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April 18, 2004 - 8:19 p.m.

I am sucking on pieces of sweet potato, wondering...do i know anything at all?

If my tongue were in fact castrated, i could be content with silence, however, it flaps freely, but not unmediated by all the words that have passed before it, through it, slip sliding around it. Language. Morality. Truth. Pearl hearts shining through turquoise, opaque at the center. The heart contradicting the very translucence of the thing that it is a part of, like the unspeakable, desire that exists in everyday but somehow is always defined in opposition to it.

I cannot speak these things, because to speak is to confine, to trap and to fix these ineffable things.

i see he/she in my "self?" the she who falls, collapsing with joy onto a bed, like a piece of scenery away from the eyes of others, to become.. she-knows-not-who. And I too, wonder as i look in the mirror, whether others can see it in my face, can see that i don't know.

Why me?

because it is you?

these pearls enter through my eyes and sit shining at my core. I can see them but wonder if i will ever be able to spew them out, onto paper, through words that make my heart legible. the very illegibility is the truth.

the moment we fix things they begin to erode, to lose their meaning.

Eyes fixed on eachother they wait, wondering who will attack first... who will pronounce the sentence of death upon love. by merely speaking.

 

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