And Jacob had a list on the door of his refrigerator, I paraphrase:

get better job
music
read
find a nice girl

(I can cross the last one off)

I find myself, again, at this point, this bottom - like the base of mason jar, like the glass: hard, cool, smooth, transparent, distorting. You can’t quite put you hand into it, your finger on it - I can’t quiet scrap the bottom ( Read more... )

Tell me again about the waters of thy birthworld, Usul.

Like in my guts it's liquid and it lodges and hunts the prey of my blood like meticulous mechanical spiders. There is an other, another other that steps in your steps; another set of nerves counter firing against their first set that's why you shake; hold out your hand and see it tremble. An other set of nerves, a back and a forth. There is really ( Read more... )

It is on nights like this I realize that I am just bone and plastic, ash and rime; the fat of firstlings and the fruit thereof. But we all know the whirpool of panic and grief, the hearthooks that catch into our mates and our mates. And yet, rarely do we do what is meant to be done and so often we leave undone that which ought to have been done. So ( Read more... )

It is the the summer and I am a stranger and my friends they have gone.

The truth of it is just that - I have left and they have gone and I miss them.

Come back.

The difference between acute horror and chronic dread is that in one your body is at stake and the other is where your soul becomes the prison of the body; the very agency is transmuted into faux-security and determinism. One seeks total awareness and understanding but the colonization of different life-worlds (new and emerging markets) is always ( Read more... )

Look at the most ordinary of men, at a time when a little beauty has contrived to steal into their darkness ( Read more... )

There is a slight simile that comes

And then I say
The main problem with the feminist ideology is just that
Ideology the imaginary relations to the real conditions of life
There can no longer be real conditions just imaginary relations

And she says
I feel better now; it’s not
That you’re a misogynist

It’s that you believe in nothing at all

And you find yourself lying face first in the dull shag carpet trying, thinking only of - only able to make the half-sounds of syllables. The hum and the crush and wait, weight. The heady damp of the rain, the wealthy promise of summer in the spring finding it difficult to do anything but and you’re returned to the space where it cycles the stops, ( Read more... )