i have not been dreaming. reality is as the dream seems. language. you spoke of Napoli, i listened. i listened. i listened!
you make me think of laying in my death bed holding your hand. i want to die holding your hand. this is not a dream, but i forget. when i forget, i think it is a dream. not a dream.
a time to drivel
a time to surrender
a time to abandon
and then there is no time at all
there is a time
i feel myself more dead than dead
i feel myself more alive than alive
i exist
maybe
then there are taboos...
nights.
days.
taboos.
then there are the interstitials of god.
right now is all there is:
no god
no interstitial
no taboo
no day
no night
all, nothing.
maybe.
no, it is not a rarity that i sign life in blood!
constancy is the rarity, every thing else changes!
i see you differently these days, and it is not that the rare specimen of your being has changed, it is my seeing that has changed. not that i look at things and you any differently, just my perception has changed, evolved and been re-filtered through wonders of what i can possibly only call unknowledge.
so, it is not every day that Immanuel appears in my life and that i take him for a spin. he bores me!
you, it is different. but given a chance, even you would bore me... would you?
see, i just do not have a mind for this now. i do not have a mind for you now. i have no mind and no feelings and have wondered if it is because they are married or because they have divorced.
last week i sat with her around a cup of tea. she had a belly ache, i was frustrated and bored at the same time. i was impatient. she is strong, and we are the two ethereal beings of vulnerability and imperfection and our wrath may differ in expression, it is much too similar in its effect. our wrath destroys.
will i sign my next story in blood?
will you read it?
that smile was all that i needed.
thoughtful. these days i am thoughtful. i am humbled too. i write fragments of sentences as i am tired of the incomplete syntax. i cut one incompleteness with another and hope that somehow you will understand even when what your fear is to understand. there are the long hours of silence which we share, and those are the best, then the most gets said, and we never misunderstand each other.
i have been distracted, i am distracted. today i was even irritated and furious. i wondered what held me from piercing through all the conventions and do something explosive and violent. i watched myself. how is it that i return to that place so quickly?