“Between my sleeping and dreaming,
Between me and the one in me
Who I suppose I am,
A river flows without end.”
“What is a ghost ? Stephen said with tingling energy. One who has faded into impalpability through death, through absence, through change of manners.”
“Behind the incessant parade of bright images, a gaping blackness.”
“I discovered that I am tired of being a person. Not just tired of being the person I was, but any person at all.”
just say the word.
i can’t keep doing that.
bodies deserve care. my body deserves care. i have to stop allowing the toxicity of my surroundings to osmose, pitting Self against Self.
no purses, these, to be pursued. no sullen miser’s leavings shucked only for necessity delineated incarnate. gifts. only ever gifts. rivulets in constant influx to set against the ever-thieving tide.