nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission
new economy, new alchemy: translating feeling like shit into knowing you're the shit
textual relations/e-ruptions
the body part is a hand. the action is one of moving the hand, and more precisely the fingers, from the mouth where the nails are being bitten to the slits between the green plastic of a chair. green slats contrasting with red stripes of t-shirt. i am witnessing all this from behind. back slightly hunched. hair well groomed. bad eyes cuz i can see through yr glasses. can you see my reflection in them?
smelly t-shirts. the sudden awareness of an adolescent. and by awareness, i mean shame. give that to me. turquoise melting into skin. melting into red and becoming navy. maybe. and peeling it off. not so easy or bright or healthy as a banana. more like sour and melted. a pool of waxen dairy. the concept of affordance vs that of desire.
the only things i have to offer you:
the violence of the rose
the effemi-nancy of leather
sometimes you don't know what's important until you step back from it. give it some distance in space and then time. the fineline, the tightrope one walks is the leap to faith in memory. like maybe you pick up a scrap of paper from under yr bed and you either recycle it or you put it in a picture frame. if the latter, then memory, by which is meant one's present configuration of the past, performs elevation, signification (making significant). if the former, then the careful handling of parchment has been abandoned. but it could have been otherwise. in infinite ways. in front of yr eyes. keep fondling me. in yr hands. and in yr mind.
opening up the treasure chest of a suitcase. a treasured chest cased in a suit. the smell is overwhelming. particular palates and laundry soap. packing up and unpacking both looking the same, both being the same. i can fit it inside. i can show that nothing stays. the colors and the rumples. caught between bright and dismal.
you're wearing a pea coat. it's july. i don't understand you. and i don't understand how to admit this.
looking at:
artificial brain 10 years away
cats exploit humans by purring
divided we stand - an outline of scandinavian situationism
julie doiron - consolation prize
glass ceiling blocking top jobs
kid bombardos - i round the bend
pagan police get solstice leave
thinkers meet to plot the future
tiny lizard falls like a feather
we are the mods
weaving the way to the moon
weird and wet
we're all performance artists now
listening to:
butterfly bones
julie doiron - when brakes get wet
skatan
woman of color
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