21 December 2021

 il semble donc que vous ayez disparu:( 

….. et je me demande ce que ça veut dire

mais alors….  n'as-tu jamais été là ????

  Je crains que tu me manques assez 

18 December 2021

here lies a poet. 

I can’t keep it up for much longer. what do I mean by that? it’s nothing deep; I’m just so exhausted and —so will I evaporate now…. ? it’s the first time I don’t care, without the pathos, truly 

but who was she before, 

you know? 

she never was. 

no, she never was, not ever. but on one side you have the world as it is now and then on the other, well….still, what to call it?identity; purpose; messenger ….misfit, maverick, maniac 

I am a master of reinvention so ….

who knows 

14 December 2021

some silences are more deafening than others

why the rush now—? ….well, it is something about necessity and timing; but as things turned out, I never got to proofread before she sent it. some things I’m not happy about; some missing dialogue and bad transitions, and worst of all, and rather quite important; a lot of missed details in the intro; some necessary archetype-like images of the dictionary never made it from my notes…. but dictionary, we will never say about what bombs were falling when I was writing it ….if they only knew …..such as, right now, I am in the middle of a Doctor Zhivago lifenovel….and trying not to let it show 

So, the draft; a very rough diamond in the rough; maybe it requires much more chipping but so burnt on what I cannot write here about…. well, how final is a final draft? flies in the ointment smear clarity; bad first impression/anyway

….these are the worst days, so absolutely out of battery is it just out of habit I cling? as it is mission, it is also lifeline; now such a threadbare rope…. 

13 December 2021

12 December 2021

 ja*

that damn witching hour

 

I could be Louise in the car sailing to my doom with Thelma as I write this from my phone 

but no, I am alone and contemplating that thought 

I know there is a flow between my “live work journey” as I alter it into drama as a living allegory; some is real, some isn’t but every detail has a point

So maybe what is happening now …. I should —turn it over to the dictionary for ….guidance because it guides in other ways as it maps the story —what about in real life?

well, darling…. it just always goes this way, doesn’t it? while I will not say, as is my way 

and instead use my drama and fiction….my symbols? my mythology? to say ….only I can’t —not now, no, I wish I could but I know one day if I make it out, that is; so camouflage —I mean, it is always something like this and now it is this and something else which is the cause of what is hampering the whole purpose of my life…. the project. It would be one thing if this was a new situation but no, it’s the same one that keeps happening ….Shit, Electra…. what to do…. And, if anything —it has allowed me —let me ….hit pause to think about my original purpose and intention; and why give that up….

it is the fragility of the artist ….I don’t think people quite understand 

if they are not also this way ….why does the individual turn to an altered place to think in; no—to BE in —the writer, the visual artist, the performing artist, musician, animator —any creator who works in another “realm”

it is —I suppose, a way to subjugate emotions or filter them through a kind of altered tonal landscape ….because it is safe

for some. I mean. Anyway. because it allows a release, it is a freedom to pretend it is not you at all …. it is not you at all

it is…. 

we paint a pretty screen

—it is you*

that is a form of intellectualizing those terrifying shadowy corners of mortal existence; this agonizing experience we live…. we think and feel and talk about what they gloss over and completely miss 

those people don’t live in this world and their world is filled with smog and pollution

I can’t live in their world.disasters everywhere, but there’s one that nobody can see; quietly, rupturing and burning; silently, and ….still people walk over them; they are just road kill to them. so tired of the people who prey upon —those; when they could have chosen not to




11 December 2021

J'aimerais savoir qui vous êtes.  Je pensais que je savais, mais peut-être que j'avais tort….  Je suppose que je suis un autre "Beautiful Mind" délirant….  un prisonnier à lui-même. Perdu