4 Mar 2008


i can't stand to persevere,
nor do i try,
of course.
just resist,
resist in misery,
i don't accumulate experiences.
it is a process of personal impoverishment.
i see that body in the mirror, it disgusts.
sometimes i look at its face.
besides, memory doesn't work that way.
mine moves by cruel caprices and nasty cycles that make me sick.
my hands smell badly.
i'm rotting.
everything is beginning to smell of oldness, living rot.
water tastes bland and strange, as if corpses had been washed in it.
i can't be taken seriously.
there's nothing i can't say that i might not regret later.
i should take that as a right, but my word is worthless, that's for sure.
is it normal for my urine to be purple?
i fear i might take a determination i could not regret.
i can't describe events.
i search for words as if they were written on cards.
without any lively contact.


Anonymous said...

stunning images revealed to my ear as those watch my eyes get stuck in this text_

Susan Rhys-Jones said...

It stuck me...

Lazare said...