October 15th, 2011



when days are ugly
and everything I adore I abhor
I just want to shut my mouth and forget it

but watching a bio-pic about Francis Bacon
believes me I should cling to angsty obsessions to drive myself to greatness

my obsession with mediocrity
hating vehemently
Bach ground garbage music
and shit advertising
exposing my miscreant misanthropists blaringly
while staring at some distended fat man with goggling eyes
Koos said "you can't possibly find that attractive"
but of course I was drawn to stare at it

is the myth of the Large Man I have totally foolish?
just some other superficial trait most possessed by the mediocre

most possessed of everything is by the mediocre

I felt furious
even the trains weren't running
after having to help some excessively anxious german woman

patience expired
on my way to have dinner with someone I feel exasperated by even before seeing him
my cough returning

I think, as I trudge up the stairs
-- I don't want to care about anyone... I don't want to have to listen, see, care.
and I imagine myself alone for the winter
firing all my friends
and attempting to create a body of work that interests me
tells the story in a useful way
but now I'm bored by even myself
knowing I'd waste my time with my lust or some ardent distraction
infuriated hell-being
condemned to living

there is a voice
(many, now in the shadows)
speaking of love
the work of loving
the necessity

I know
and I know this expression is all shit

but god
how do I not feed myself on such poison?