||[May. 1st, 2006|05:52 am]
The Magical Universe
I used to strive ((or claim to)) ^in regard to^ “this”... which is some thing, maybe a thing, or no thing, but more explicit than thing I can’t really get without attributing qualities and associations which may not be accurate. Even the label of Xthing begins to evoke images I’d rather not allow you because they’re certainly not right. So anyway--it’s all digressions--I used to obsess over chronicling and, more importanly, explaining “this.” I wanted to communicate. I wanted to plead my case, justice or something. I wanted to connect, fuck, be alive, fear death.
It isn’t that I don’t now. I really would like to say, “I don’t know.” It’s odd to think that some explanation/decimation of “this” isn’t my life’s work. It isn’t even that I don’t want to connect--Although, I do not want to connect--to another(s) human being(s): But it is impossible. It isn’t what or how to write but, rather, WHY. I used to take a page from Burroughs’s book, “I had no choice but to write my way out” But I’m Out! Do I no longer need the audience?
OK, because from here on is where it really starts to get fucked: words,, writing,, have no longer lost their appeal,, hold on me,, but one thing has... the easily expalined artistic “intent,” the need for connect/disconnect that’s on the same level as fucking, the impetus behind my years as a slut. The need. For reaction the need the promise of some sacred mystic ultimate BJ shit... maybe that was the initial hook, the free dealer’s dose but it isn’t now.
There are some things (Xthings) about me I no longer ((in this second)) feel inclined to explain. My involvement with word/language ((thought/virus disease)) thickens; it was inescapable a long time ago. It is for THEIR sake my obsession with them continues... theirs, mine, and everything else is Distant. Theory. An audience is necessary b/c they demand it, understand: for them to be //with// but mainly to Be words they must not be kept in isolation ((as if I could!))... thus the need for an audience. This isn’t the zen it might sound. If it’s the moment before the plunge into mental chaos for myself... well then it is; this chain of action goes too far back to //stop//.
Maybe it can be explained. I’m not sure, although, to what purpose. If it can not there not now in public where I ego must “maintain” control ...they may demand it.
[cross-posted between rparker and magicaluniverse]