Steamed glass whispers keep coming to me every night.
don’t confuse love with something fleeting or exclusive. We are
constantly being reborn.
Brian was quite right in that we haven’t gone any farther than this. What a bizarre desire, to be drilling through the spiritus santus tonight.
Red Maria. I nearly exploded right then and there. While she danced and pranced and played all the major roles in this tragedy. Later on I think we played at a little Tarzan style game but I could be wrong.
“what fun it is to talk to an intelligent woman wearing stockings as she crosses her legs. That little staticky sound of rustling nylon can make me happy on several levels.” Brilliant. Don’t credit me though. I am but a humble observer. I have only read one other DeLillo book and despite its brevity I found it to be a very challenging work though the Rothko references were pleasing. Odd that there is a recurring Cronenberg connection in the recent stuff I am reading. I pulled out my old copy of Pet Semetary the other day too, the one with the cat on the cover and green spine. Old is a relative term as I think it is still the mostly widely available printing though I have possessed this particular copy for well over a decade. It smells great. Maybe it will be the next book I (re)read. Classic King.
Yeah, that’s right, it
was Sunday morning when I could not sleep a wink so instead I watched the movie
Crash (the 96 Cronenberg flick of course and not that horribly contrived Paul
Haggis movie about racism from the early 2000’s). I drank very cheap whiskey (on the rocks)
while watching and experienced severe panic attacks and several moments of
palpable dread wherein I was certain things were going to enter my room and
take me away. I’m actually not sure now
if this happened Sunday morning or Saturday morning but it was definitely a morning
and a good time overall.
Can I travel back on moonbeam levels? I think this, at last, might be my re-entry point. I have missed you so much. Things have not been at all the same.
I loved the music I heard in the trailers for Nocturnal Animals (which also looks quite interesting with maybe a Blood Simple vibe?) and immediately set about investigating who be the composer. I think I shall order that disc quite soon. Actually I discovered the artist and corresponding album last night after roughly 4 minutes of hard investigative work. I promptly ordered a physical copy through a third party distributor operating within the framework of amazon.com. The disc is called Elements and the artist is Ludovico Einaudi. Current estimates say the disc will arrive late this week or early next. Upon arrival of this item I will remove the plastic shrink-wrap and then listen to it, perhaps initially while cooking or relaxing on my bourgeois sofa and then likely whilst writing and almost certainly in my car while driving through the rain or dead of night.
She’s a peach, that’s
for sure. He always tells himself this
is the last time but he always lies. If only…what
was the codeword? I think it was “peanut
butter” or maybe it was a light punch to the shoulder. Either way, it was the sound of his doom, of
the deadbolt sliding shut and locking him away in a place from which he could
never hope to escape. But then, he has
no desire to escape, does he? She was
wearing an orange shirt that day. Pure,
every ounce. He will never forget. Orange and black. It was like she was dressed for Halloween. How utterly proper, he thinks as his head
goes light. Is it time for
tequilas? Why must you always wink? Please don’t touch the shoulder! His bones might disintegrate and the contents
of his body ooze out of his orifices and wash down the nearby drain, leaving
behind only a thick puddle of skin and hair.
I’m so ugly.
After all these years I
have finally found Jorge. The next move
is mine. Now that I have found him I will
find her. Years ago I made a solemn vow
and now it seems my ultimate goal – my entire reason for being – may finally be
in reach. Yamila, I swear….
Like the complete idiot
I am I utterly forgot that Marina Abramovic’s memoir is released today. Damn it, I am short of the coin necessary to
make the purchase but very soon I will remedy this and I will buy that book and
read it and if I love it I will eat it afterward, I love chewing on paper. On an unrelated subject I wonder how much of
that attention paid to the Andreasson affair had a hand in recent moments of
lost time and lost sleep. All the same,
it was difficult to look away.
Word on the streets is
that Colombian chanteuse Shakira is releasing a new single this Fri with a new
album set to drop around the middle of December. This news pleases me.
My experiences include
sitting in a comfort chair with soothing oscillations. I haven’t had a chance to organize my
thoughts on either Lady Gaga’s new album or Leonard Cohen’s but I think soon
this will happen. Maybe. I’m going to drive somewhere at some point
today and I’m also going to pass some time on the telephone. Maybe I’ll eat a slab of undercooked red
meat. I think there was a deer in my
bedroom last night. I remember waking up
and seeing it standing there at the door and then it walked over to my bed and I
think I giggled a little because it was weird how it wasn’t making any noise
with its footsteps. It stopped on my side of the bed and I couldn’t move and in
one moment I felt tranquil if a bit puzzled and in the next I felt terrifying and
knew something was very wrong but I couldn’t move or make a sound. The deer had huge eyes and it just stared at
me and I don’t know what happened next. I
haven’t been able to remember but when I was hypnotized the doctor later told
me I started crying during this part of the
memory and that I told her I couldn’t go any further or else I would die.
In
addition to the album mentioned above I also ordered a Criterion bluray of Fellini’s
Amarcord and a book by Yukio Mishima. I can’t
help myself (lightning is striking again).
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