Fragments spun from bitter seeds, cotton sheets, ego death, heaving sobs
anominousmistake.substack.com
Fragments spun from bitter seeds, cotton sheets, ego death, heaving sobs
You know the drill, poems written by a lazy man
looking for inner love and finding that solitude Rilke keeps going on about finding fuck all in there but loss embracing it only to find frostbitten extremities looking for inner love in the outside world ecstatic pleasure and carnal distraction looking for stories in the floaters and flares that parasite vision because you stared at the sun looking for inner love in that white sear watching water boil and paint dry until your eyes hurt until they dry up and close
this bed I made for myself this animal desire to push everything away cut every string that holds me up curl up into a foetal knot and abort the damn thing before it has a chance to take even a sip of this cold air the animal instinct to curl up into that cave that dissociative hole so deep the bedsheets run out of fabric this bed I made this bed I made this bed I made for myself out of stained cotton and good memories this comfort zone I need to emigrate from the comfort zone of overstayed welcomes because weakness is pain you let in for no reason pain you let multiply like bacteria and strength is pain you let in because the math checks out because you know deserve this bed you made for yourself
Your Julie anamneusis is a Spaniard studying Rilke and Lou Salame. We donot know how -brandy, brandy-we insinuate you into her apartment in a state to indyce you to feint fainting. When you recover, you have her at Mal de Fleurs. Then after you can hasten her maturity by pointing out we donot have his poems in which he watches her tortoise tongue negligently searching the corner of her mouth for food....because he had set the bar pretty low when he allowed her to write him in the letter about how Nietzche masturbated for peace. They were all under 27, what else would he have done?
When you compliment the butchers assistant on the meat. And he rolls his eyes expressing you have no idea. We want the 4 minutes later entire transcription what thoughts restrained him from telling you his motivations for working to retire at 46 at whatever cost? Let's say he calls it an act. We would like to know what the name was of this tight lipped character he is playing? Is he a mime?
I WILL BE HIM and also your mirror tomorrow. I will wake up to an alarm for the first time in 12 years. Outfit in a costume colors of an Amrrican cheesesburger. And behave and move like the father of a comic strip. We all should bestride a chair or sashe for the restroom like a father would. The world is full of ideas of people as distant as fathers and phoning it in. Surely a womans day is not on rails until she notices the landmark of a father forever in every crowd?
As for Rainer he did not forego the scientistic tones of the 19th century and our present moment. Saved them for a statement like every joy wants continuance. About which he may not have had stronger evidence than that year he never left his room before 11:45 am...