A kind of a "dangerous supplement", marked, scarred on a body, post-orgasmically, always, already in anticipation of (a) crisis OR for a desert avec 'agape'. Mindb(l)ogg(l)ing Noise. "Avalanche, would you share my last pursuit?" (Baudelaire)

Monday, October 18, 2004

"It's only fools and charlatans who know everything and understand everything"

"When someone spends the fewest number of motions on a given action, that is grace"
In between the acts, we will be returning to Tom Waits in the morning -since you have denied your kisses to me, and I talk in strange languages of koans, off remembered words: catafalque of Korsakoff, and others I haven't kept (am) note- to another pair of eyes who says 'I'm in you', me fresko kapno to apomesimero kai pezodromio stis esso fternes, we will, yes we will, be contemplating the smile of an Invitation to the Blues (unmarked / non-named). And yet, yes, again, we recognise -I recognise- the consuming 'little smell of brandy', which, under the eucalyptus was called [elle]: "Either it is a remnant of something 'degenerating', something which was once immense, or it is a particle of what will in the future develop into something immense, but at the present it is unsatisfying, it gives much less than one expects"
"Disatisfaction with oneself is the fundamental quality of every true talent"

What could have been read while waiting, in a car, let's say, outside a bakery. Enan Fournon.

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