yeah, i admit.
i did sleep around.
since my undergrad days...
with each of them, but one at a time.
could i help it? could i choose not too?
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
those books, that is. hehe.
i slept around, freely with each of them.
at least i tried to!
those are the texts i try to flirt with. i prop them beside my bed when i fail to seduce them completely. they lie there, stony and silent, like a wall of knowledge that pretends to hold more than what it does. the grammar of pretensions are rife in them, rabid to the core; woven, stitched and sticky wriggles of words attempting to spawn insight and one occasional piece of bricolage. i try sometimes to strip them bare. those soft strands of meandering straps, which hold up empty & voluptuous balls of argument. most are born out of intellectual wedlock, an accidental marriage between spurious thought and seductive expression. they rape my mind, exile the senses. bear no lasting fruit for thought. i want to amputate their virile marrow spines.
there are days when i long for a simpler landscape of readings comprising the crisp clear air of language, well-ventilated by clarity, confidence and authority.
this is not to be.
i fail this night and once again, find myself sleeping with the enemy i claim to disown
and wage battle with....
still some secrets should remain so. this is a public blog and the ones near me maintain the hearth where a still fire burns. you know my sharing. our common knowledge. it is still. the silence heals and is good...
our books...chapters, histories, time-wounds...
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