Why say anything? How best say nothing? That, there, is the art of it, the rub of it, the rub-a-dub-dub of it. My language is exhausted. Over with. Beyond what is. This bleeding out. A steady drip-drip of doubt. Via a laugh and a joke. Convulsing with hope. Glacial love melts my heart. Infernal eras…… Continue reading …
Despair, like everything else, should be an art. That is to say, it should be experienced as artfully as possible. I am a veteran of despair. Sounds trite, right? But to my ever-dwindling family of fellow-sufferers, despair is as real as air itself. I am not talking about questionable psychopathologies or material hardship or dubious…… Continue reading Please sir, can I have some more?
In a thrilling biography I recently read of Sartre (how I miss the perversely innocent intellectualism of his time), he is quoted as saying that incest was the only model of family that interested him. “Yum yum,” I thought on reading it. For I am profoundly attracted to the idea of incest. Please don’t misunderstand…… Continue reading Discourse between two pigeons
I have no idea why I am writing this blog. The word ‘blog’ is itself absurd, a real glob of a word, hardly a suitable medium for someone who loves language as deeply, passionately and incestuously as I do. But loneliness and despair have driven people to do worse. So here I am, adding to…… Continue reading No smoke without fire