Let me backtrack a moment though to tell you that before I was on my way to death, I was part of an enormous and unimaginable void. In the suburbs, I was nothing in a vast expanse of more nothing, and at some point I went somewhere else and did nothing. My parents lived fruitful lives of love and failure, and as a result I was introduced to touch, sight and other senses.
In short, I’m no stranger to anything in particular.
However, after encountering something (or really anything) recently, I realized that I don’t really “get” anything and/or everything ever. Or rather, I kind of “get” anything in as much as everything at all in isolation can be “gotten,” but I don’t “get” anything as it is meted out to me in discrete experiences, one moment after another.
whatever whatever i blogged another piece of it cuz i like it, come fight me, i like to fight (physically, intellectual sparring just leaves me sad)
go read this thing. i dunno if it’s better or worse to read the HTMLGiant piece it’s kinda in reference to, kinda sorta, first, kinda sorta.
Love you, D-Man.
Jesus got up one day a little later than usual. He had been dream-
ing so deep there was nothing left in his head. What was it?
A nightmare, dead bodies walking all around him, eyes rolled
back, skin falling off. But he wasn’t afraid of that. It was a beau-
tiful day. How ‘bout some coffee? Don’t mind if I do. Take a little
ride on my donkey, I love that donkey. Hell, I love everybody.
goddamn, James Tate, goddamn