Anything

My love, if yiu are well, please do not reply. Do not yield. You deserve to not desire anything. Not to be obliged to do anything. For me not being able to desire you or do anything with you is enough...

My care is not required and your confidence is insane...

I care.

You are the resistant object.
If I could touch you our relationship would be totally toxic. I want nothing more than to be you.

Boo hoo. Poor me.

And who am I?
Gurrrl. I don’t know her...

Every good joke begins with a story about our Lord Jesus.
So, our Lord Jesus had this thing with Thomas. Right after he was resurrected. Because being resurrected is pretty damn weird. Thomas put his fingers into our Lord Jesus. Which is pretty gay. But that is a whole different can of worms...

To say that only Thomas is the one who doubts in this situation is rather simplistic. Jesus doubts too. Who am I? What is going on? Do you see me? Do you still love me? Etc.

Thomas and Jesus both want to know stuff. Important stuff. They serve as substitutes for each other for the one they most dearly wish to speak to... They verify each other. This is a kind of love... One might say.

What I want is not this kind of love. I want you. I want a space in which it is no longer possible to verify these things...

And beyond you.
Sorry.
There are things beyond you, babe.

I want a space where it is no longer needed to verify these things. Because their cathegories have become obsolete.

I have a plan!

And it is meant for you and me. Because... Duh. Love.

But it also meant for other people/bodies/lives...

I mean, doesn’t it totally infuriate you that nature makes things which are similar grow in a similar way and everyone has forgotten about it... You remember this lady who got a spike from a sea urchin cought in her finger? It stayed there. They couldn’t get it out. And then she broke her finger. And after her finger healed the soike no longer showed up on the x-ray... Because her body sopped up the calcium from the sea urchin spike and made a part of her bone...

To me that’s just the very basic. Very very basic. Very very very very basic example of this whole business.

What business?

It’s the business of getting you closer to my, babe.

The business of the confusion of the binary distinction between body and object/thing. Confusion leading to systematic dismantling. Because I’m just that type of guy. I like to take things apart.

This confusion already exists. It exists in my body. It exists in mortuary ritual. It exists in puppetry of the 20th century. It exists also in other places. But these are my special places. If you know what I mean. Wink wink.

That is where I will be sourcing all this tasty crunchy confusion from.

And to get all scientific about it: I will be bringing it into a wider context.

Do I bore you?

Too bad.

You are mine and I am yours.

Some more things I want to say to you (there will always be more, but this is the current definitive list... )

- Critical and aggressive or masochistic and self-pitying?
- Truth should stand bz itself, clear and unsupported
- A mixture of sentimentality, pornography and misrepresentation
- ch ch ch changes
- in my language the words for soul, ghost and breath are dusa, duch, dych... which is kinda the same jazz

You can always talk to me. Even though you never will. But you can.

End scene.