March 2012
11 posts
13 tags
4 tags
“It is possible for the mind to go blank in a tactic of evasion or suppression,...”
– Don DeLillo, Cosmopolis
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“When you unwittingly stuck your hand into the wasps’ nest, you...”
– Stephen King, The Shining
16 tags
The Blue Theatre x The Bleak Thought
1. Crucifixion on the road. 2. bleeding naysayers writhing in the sun. 3. “no more youth.” 4. the bodies will drop in a week. 5. no more text beyond the text/no more abstraction/no more ontological freewheelin/no more liberated sextalk 6. only empty backtalk/only mystery cuts, proof that last night happened/only sacrifice and denial and the demon singing you to sleep/only the future in nightmares...
4 tags
“It’s possible for one never to transgress a single law and still be a...”
– Herman Hesse, Demian
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“I thought it would be easy, lying in the tub and seeing the redness flower from...”
– Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
12 tags
Brain Heat x B.H.
He translated dreams. He translated dreams with theory and liberty. He began losing sleep. Chewed valerian root. Took Valium. He dreamed her dreams, saw ghosts probe her body with undead fingers. He couldn’t sleep anymore. He got more exercise. He called the Caring Friend. Visited Doctors. Visited Palm Readers. Drank heavily. Some days he illustrated nightmares in watercolor. Slugged beer and...
moderateclimates asked: How long did it take you to write, from the idea conception to finishing the piece as a whole?
14 tags
Second Heart
Spiced rum commits genocide on McCauley’s guts. He smokes. Squints at sunlight glowing off the water. Yearns vaguely for loveless sex and a raw egg in beer. This is Technicolor iconography embodied: the cigarette, the spiralling seagulls, the ocean, the shadow of unnamed regrets, etc. / “If you don’t allow nostalgia to set in, you’ll regret it forever.” “Cut the romantic bullshit.” “You used to...
4 tags
“What is most original in a man’s nature is often that which is most...”
– Leonard Cohen, Beautiful Losers
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“I remember thinking at some point, as I sat on the bed mopping the sweat from my...”
– Roberto Bolaño, Monsieur Pain 