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 it is still amazing how strong the feeling is. How visceral and real it feels in your body. Like a slow-motion car crash. And maybe you try to create some little narrative, some little story, to write yourself out of the fear.
Talking with a friend about death a moment ago, about its certainty, its inevitability, is maybe what made me think of this now. And how all you’ve got is the road you choose towards it.
And I keep writing these little elliptical things, where the explanation or reason for the text is the shape of the text. It bites its own tail. It sort of falls. Or that is how I conceive them. They fall down over themselves. And maybe they make some little sound. And that sound can be nice, occasionally.
And maybe this little story worked. And maybe the fear is a little more manageable now.
— J Lundberg