Dear World,
The cavity between my legs is quaking. The inner walls of my cavity are involuntarily contracting, and I am weeping with sheer, profound, unadulterated happiness experienced in a fresh and mostly original way.
There are tears. running. down. my face. and my vagina is involuntarily contracting with no clear reason or source of stimulation.
It can not be enough that I live in the same universe that Nabokov once existed.
(His autobiography begins, "The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness.")
It cannot be enough that I live in a city with free performances of Hamlet, or that I am deeply loved and loving to many. A subscription to the New Yorker, or listening to Schubert, or waking up before the alarm clock next to a man that finally holds the potential to satisfy you- is not enough. Because you have decaying grandparetns, abusive mothers, neglected brothers, cold fathers, dead aunts. Debt! And attention deficit disorder. Alcohol shakes. Sixty text messages a day. Roommates who blame YOU for the dishes. And on a grander scale, Endless War! Poverty! Capitalism! Organized Religion! Tom Cruise! Roadkill, Ghosts, Genital Herpes. The smell of rotting fish in China Town.
Perhaps the beauty, or rather, the unbridled passion for living lay somewhere within the belief that everything is in fact, coin faces- moments in space hanging from thin wires. Connected, unconnected. Neither beautiful or hideous. But almost real. Either an elegantly constructed universe or a panalopy of chaotic happenstance (I think I made up the world panalopy) and I am making sense, and relating, interacting and perceiving and receiving moments that may, or may not ever happen again.
Global warming is real! We are spinning rapidly towards Andromeda! We are at Hells mouth. My father doesn't love me! and I am blessed with perception enough to know that it is fucking amazing to beable to witness it,cat piss smell and all.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Gorgeous! Let's do coffee this weekend.
~tomahawk
umm.. whats your phone number thomas?
or email? i picked up a copy of the wind up bird chronicals ahead of time for you.
Post a Comment