Kissa Tanto 8:30. It’s been four years since I last went. The question is do I need the disjunctive ‘of.’ The whole atmosphere of Kissa Tanto is within the ‘of.’ It is not of itself, of something; it is not of me, people, or the products of which it is a part. There simply is Continue reading

The slow liking of ugliness Continue reading

In Franz Kafka’s short story, “In the Penal Colony,” the life of a condemned man falls upon the hands of an officer. The officer, who is in charge of the execution machine, explains its function to a traveller, who later learns that the condemned man is actually not aware of his sentence. As a stranger, Continue reading

The transparency of white on white. I read a very good poem today. I stopped and wondered why anybody would bother with poetry and the pomp of poetry like it erupted out of the ass of some goddess. Is it the desecration of defecation that defaces poetry? Would it still be poetry if someone smeared Continue reading

John Cage. Silence. i have to get rid of the belief that I need a mode to write in a perfect mode no not even perfect but one that is most proper and appropriate such that I achieve no mode at all for I forgo all the other modes for this one single mode. No Continue reading

I do what I don’t want to do. I’m think of what I want to do as i eliminate what I don’t want to do. A very dangerous conclusion because I’m lazy. I’m editing this post from the future of when I published post. It’s different because the post is hidden within a multitude of Continue reading

its like I don’t know what to do because in hell that was me that was you and the words are dogs selling cats where hell sells cat or where cats know dogs in hell but sells hell not cats and cats in my home I’m trying to be a dog or the dog in Continue reading

The last day of the month. Which month am I living in. The dog bites on log whether fire or not. I’ve lost my thought. Well, nothing feels long enough because I’m never into it–that is, I’ve led a toothless life, I’ve never bitten into anything (Sartre). Or something like that. You see, my fish Continue reading

I ate the sun and the banana peel rots. Continue reading

Airport. Coffee. Egg Sandwich. Home. Karamazov. Hope. Diminishing. Something something. Noon sleep dozing off sun dog fish. last walk in the snow trees. Murakami. Kaufman. Miller. Accusations. More than I thought but not enough because I apprehend the eloquence of it too much and not questioning the origin enough, whether the eloquence comes from pretence Continue reading