Sunday, October 30

You write to me, I think you are the man of my life, as you say: where does the snowman put his website. I think this is a genius question. Come on, who could have thought of something as brilliant as this. Then I reply what I think the right answer is. In his arsehole. And then you ask me: are you male or female? And I say I am female. And then you never write to me for the entire day. Then I write back asking whether you were looking for a man. And you say no, a natural, genuine woman. But I am not what you are looking for. And I ask why. Please tell me why. And then you say: like I said, i am not interested. Please note I will not be replying to your messages again.
I'm dripping wet. You have been telling me about that tiny and light woman; and I am dripping wet. she was light and small and you lifted her up against the wall; I am not jealous baby, say it all just say it all, give me the thrill of it all just give it to me you know like the last times when far away you used to live alone and I used to be young no belly no fat no regrets just an intense fucking solitude all over my arms and underneath my armpits which is now covering the whole of me my belly and fat. i have to fight my belly, take my sour and fight it; i wonder who will win; me or her fat disgusting belly.

from scudd

I am always astonished, when visiting England, to find that people are, at least linguistically speaking, almost constantly afraid. I am thinking of sentences like: 'Oh, I'm afraid you won't be able to work in the manuscripts library next week: it will be closed for cataloguing.' Or: 'I'm afraid I can't help you with your request to have the promptbook scanned; it is far too delicate.' Or: 'I'm afraid, sir, that you are going to step through the gap; as we say, "mind the gap"; do take this seriously.' Or, 'I'm afraid I can't go to the theatre with you this evening, for I have another engagement.' I sometimes hear utterances where I do understand why fear is present; e.g. 'I'm afraid our government is engaging in draconian measures that will seriously undermine our quality of life.' Or: 'I'm afraid that our politicians are not only corrupt but can escape with impunity.' These make sense to my Canadian ear. But being afraid of more pedestrian matters-I even heard someone say: 'I'm afraid you can't use the loo, the janitor is cleaning it'--it is these that I don't understand. An explanation or explanations would be much appreciated, if only because they would help me to understand the subtleties of what characters in English plays mean when they regularly talk about being afraid.

Tuesday, October 25

some broth and soap

ok bye bye for now. i will go to the corner shop for some broth and soap. i will come back when you are asleep and sing you a song. i will make soup and feed you until you wake up and see me fanning. I will fan all night for you dear I will fan and sweep and cry. and you will ask me why lower case why lower case why lower case you will ask me why lower case why lower case why lower case and i will say why broth and soap why fanning. and you will ask me why lower case why lower case and I will say
what if the rest of my life goes on like this food work work food I will be fat by the end of the month and ugly by the end of the year and so fucking horribly bored by the end of it all. Great, that is exactly what I need. And a big huge cock for ventilation. Has it always been so hard? Has it always been so hard to create a current of air? A little bit of blowing gently, of fanning away. Just be mice with me darling, just be mice with me and fan away.
I smell nice. I do. I smell nice. I smell nicer than yesterday, nicer than the day before. But I feel shit. I feel so shit I can almost smell it. I can smell the shit all over the place. The shit is just all over the place. I flash it again and again the fucking shit is all over the place. The whole school is smelling of shit. Every toilet door I open, I see a little turd inside. I see turds everywhere. On the windowsill, hanging from the trees, above the fire exit, inside my lunch box. So much shit I can hardly type. My fingers are sliding off the k e y b o a r d m y f i n g e r s

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