Thu, 19 May 2005

the body will constantly lose
The first I saw of him was a strobe-illusion, and I was young then, smoking ditchweed out of a dented and perforated Coors can, and I couldn’t help but think the whole party was designed to sift off my better nature, to reduce me to impulses and second guesses, because I was paranoid then, and tired of constantly suspecting this would be the last I would ever know, each moment graded as an ending, as speaking to the whole of my life before some celestial jury, so that the lights and the noise became like a tide, something to float upon, so as to fear nothign on this earth, for it was the whole of the experience which kept me afloat. I don’t understand this logic now, but I find myself reaching for it, from time to time, convinced there is a truth dormant beneath the paint across the walls, the blood behind the face, that which supports the pattern.
(12:12.05.19.2005) [/ana] #