on timing and resignation (6.30.2008)

surely we've tipped delicate balance in favor of darker desires and temporary loves.
xxxx, what, exactly, are you looking for.
replied: "atlas, cxnxxxxx xomxxxx, x xxxx xxxxxxx, x visceral xxxx.
"xxxx, surely you understand that it is not possible, that to be so moved is unreal!"
replied: "it wasn't x xxxxxx. understand i xxxxxx xxxx xx."...
jesus christ xxxx. you know what will happen don't you?
replied: "xxxxxx, xxx, x xxxx xx xxxx xxxxx."

what have you done?
aka "(xxx)damn me and everything" / or / "don't let it fuck us"
see also:
"dead man"
"dead man"
"dead man"
"dead man"
"dead man"
"dead man"
"dead man"
"dead man"
"it is too late... it is too late... it is too late... it's too late...for you"

on dangerous love (6.17.2008)

in my first life i was a writer. living simply in a new (young) land (america). we were very much in love. she was a native american.
it was not possible then...
...and it's forbidden now.

taken from "for want of a more perfect whole... notes on exotic entanglements"

"now painted in a corner, waiting on your finest hour"

"problematic muscle memory"

on N. W. Clerk

"getting over it so soon? but the words are ambiguous. to say the patient is getting over it after an operation for appendicitis is one thing; after he's had his leg off it is quite another. after that operation either the wounded stump heals or the man dies. if it heals, the fierce, continuous pain will stop. presently he'll get his strength and be able to stump about on his wooden leg. he has 'got over it' but he will probably have recurrent pains in the stump all his life, and perhaps pretty bad ones; and he will always be a one-legged man. there will be hardly any moment when he forgets it. bathing, dressing, sitting down and getting up again, even lying in bed, will all be different. his whole way of life will be changed. all sorts of pleasures and activities that he once took for granted will have to be simply written off. duties too. at present i am learning to get about on crutches. perhaps i shall presently be given a wooden leg. but i shall never be a biped again."

there are things we don't ask for.

"der brei und das mark"

on past lives and new leaves (6.15.2008)

last night i sat with a butcher. a butcher with three faces. a face of honesty, one of happiness, and one of great sadness.
collectively they spoke: "xxxxxx, though you may not want to hear, there are things you must know before you die."
honesty: "this much is true. you are honest but every coin has a second side and every light a complimentary darkness. i do not know what to make of you, and for this i must let you go."
happiness: "this much is true. you are happy but yours is not perfect or absolute. i cannot believe in your happiness and for this i must let you go."
grief: "this much is true. you are sad indeed. your sadness may even rival my own, but it cannot compare in depth or breadth. i've said that i loved you and i say it even still, but because i don't understand your sincerety, i must let you go.
i've said what i felt and i spoke in haste and anger but i speak for the parts of a whole."

happiness: .....

honesty: "agreed."

all three closed their eyes and taking my right arm in his left, the butcher deftly cut away the strings that remained. breathe in once, then out once. in the second breath he planted a seed in the wound.he cradled me like a child for one breath more and then carefully lay my new body down into a basin of warm water.

the water smells like fire here.
"...from here I will grow."

"rook"

"six natural crosses"