no one has ever been given to record it; no coffees nor wines has ever been served as the means by which one guzzles one’s time talking about it. (perhaps its because it is so obvious that it has never got mentioned?) one sensed it, but one would rather not trust one’s sense; one acknowledged it, but one would rather have one’s knowledge erased. for thousands of years it has been going on in this way, humanity never learns, it refuses to learn, even if once upon a thousand years a potential teacher comes up and elaborated the white, chalky truth over the sky: quite effortlessly then one prayed for rain, for the clouds to come and wash it away, as if it was a bad omen or something. the fact that mankind has always been able to avoid it is unavoidable; and that the game’s reach extends even to physiological sphere is of no avail: one inhaled it, but it refuses to be exhaled back; one devoured it but it always got lost somewhere between the appendix, or the intestines: one could find no trace of it whatsoever even if one were to dissect one’s shit. it passes every means of digestion, inscription, transcription. one writes, one reads; but there were never any fingers nimble enough to jot it down as quick as it appeared; no gazes are astute enough to be able to see it, transfix it: human eyes are too given to blink, yet it is within the instant of the blink it revealed itself; it is within the spaces that stretched between the words––not on the words themselves, which is only a formality––a thing written for the sake of form––that it breathes; it is in the armpits and groins of literature it dwells best; it is in places that few has ever dared to put one’s nose it lurks and groans. for millions of years it has been passed on in silence, until the silence became heavy and rotten of it; o how i have heard it breathing, how i have seen it flaring up dejectedly at sombre times, waiting and longing to be liberated from ignorance! even now as i am typing this i could smell it reeking, the odor wafting from every steaming gas-sewer and empty biles….. i see how the wind carries its seed everywhere, i see how it gets landed on one’s hairs, one’s hands, how it travelled down the gutters, the roofs, the streets, the oceans, yet at nowhere mentioned i have seen the seed grow; i carried the flower over my mouth but no butterfly came to suck the juice out of it…… perhaps it is afraid lest it gets turned into a dragon…… (tonight i slept a butterfly, tomorrow i wake up a dragon…..) today the sky eyed me hypocritically, i guided my eyes elsewhere, i knew not where to stare….. and this night too, i shall hear it snore, gasp and choke, it shall cough blood and shit chimeras, it shall get thinner and thinner. aye, i, too, kept on taking from it without giving anything to it back. tonight i shall hear it asphyxiate. like one stricken by consumption, it is dying..
04
Jan
11
closed eyes, closed lips, closed words and a closed world
0 Responses to “”