zensolo’s e-mailed chronicles posted by morituri.

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Friday th 21, 05.1999 in a way, I’ve gotten my wish- what passion I can’t channel thru action or burn as fuel

for th higher flame of aspiration, I bleed out- but th flow & release don’t seem to be so much about how desire

works itself out thru a particular physiology of life processes- as women’s menses could, arguably, if not from

a totally unconventional perspective, be seen as doing- but about losing my grip in th struggle, th very

process & effort of holding back, seeking to harness & channel desire itself-desire like a swirling hot wind of

stubborn, enduring youthfulness that keeps me ever hungry & parched w/ thirst…
I bleed, I bleed for no direction/home…for endless suspicious bargaining, jockeying for position in seeking

to allay anxiety & assure security & comfort…I bleed for th pressure of worldly circumstance- for sheer

seasonal heat, for th single glass of dense red wine, th spice of life, th potstill spirits- for fear of

flying, displacement & abandonment…an aimless point/like a rolling stone… desire finds no home in my body,

no avenue out…settles into my gut, circling into itself, & seeps out, mingled in sweat, urine, feces… th

doctors are baffled by these symptoms- there is no cause for alarm, they insist:
I am in th best of health…it is merely an unnerving embarrassment-noticing, as I stand up, th spot of blood

on th finely upholstered chair I’ve bn sitting in, in th lobby of th investment banker’s office…
lavv, d=(8{>

Written by morituri

May 22nd, 1999 at 10:34 am

Posted in Uncategorized

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