RUINED ENDINGS

How closely related can embodied aesthetic pleasure be to more ideational, abstract pleasure? Obviously all pleasure, all feelings, everything, is embodied – there is no split between mind and body. But still, the way one experiences, say, sex, and the way one experiences a work of conceptual art is quite different. I guess I mean […]

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energy

Maybe you don’t ever really try new things until you absolutely cannot not do so? Or maybe it’s just me? Having another anxiety attack the other day, for the first time I tried, actually really tried, to deal with it through my body (some specific exercises, and some, um, just jumping around and screaming, basically, […]

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Re: writing

My best friend knees me several times, hard, between the legs, as the cute young woman holding me whispers soothing words in my ear. I keep standing, crossing my legs in pain, and as I groan I think about narrative frames. I think about how to use fiction as a tool to navigate life, how […]

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Kaleidoscope

I read through the latest version of a manuscript I am working on. I divide the page count and the number of words, and somehow get 3.14, which is Pi. This is odd, but I am drunk so it seems to make sense. I hear voices outside on the street, but when I look down […]

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Beauty and politics

It is all problematic. There is no outside. Everything is written. There are only these tools. You cannot escape. There is no origin and no end, if these are understood as places where meaning resides. The shapes of your desire are not only politics but there is politics in there. What beauty is to you […]

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death and desire

Fear of loss and fear of death. This is what desire makes you feel. You want to hold on to the object of desire so tight; to make sure it can never ever get away. Because to loose it is to loose yourself, it is to die. This is all rather obvious, I guess. But […]

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EXPLICIT POETRY (nsfw)

In 1997 Fulvio Morsella wrote about sexually explicit poetry in his veiled autobiography “Trees.” Of the two examples he provided, one was by an Italian author, and was properly identified as such. The other was not, which has lead most critics to believe that it was by Morsella himself.   her finger all the way […]

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