Darling, would you forgive me if I walk beside you as though the world is a big couch for slumbering? I now measure my days like they’re dispatches, as trash postcards I’m collecting. I don’t sleep, I switch beds, and night after night hope is gathered in sacks of the unknown. Here in New York people call to me in my dreams, asking for friendship, and I respond in the affirmative, because good fortune is a verb.
I knew about the forgotten bridges, darling, but couldn’t warn you. Now you hurl the past into view. I am calm and patient, but strangely disillusioned.
This beauty strikes us all—everything passes within it. I want to point to moments of reprieve. Neither the end nor the beginning will bring any comfort. It’ll have to be the middle passage, the trigger of a smile, loud cackles of a baby’s innocence.
We are waiting for a rupture: the world’s ever-widening anger is circumscribed on our tongues. When we speak out of despair, or even happiness, it is evidence of a transition from one thing to another, from a promised future to an inevitable one.
What I’m doing is suggest that this world can exist—it’s never going to be a perfect world, but it must suggest a rupture, and how that rupture works—and then repair, hope, justice, happiness, love, devotion—because acts of resistance are forms of justice.
You are making me sad, shifting the balance of things: I do not want to be angry; anger is a form of response that always invalidates itself. And in the context in which it works, nothing will be authenticated. What’s left is the ego, sitting on a fence, and yet we hurl stones at it.
I will like to tell the story of a bald woman who wears a wig, and how embarrassed I feel when I see her take it off. It feels like a dubious revelation; all this while she’s been in a half-disguise, not what I’ve seen her to be and yet an equivalent of what I thought she was, a bit of what she really is.
[I don’t know what…] It’s like being a prostitute: you must learn how to touch in the right places.
2 thoughts on “The Darling Notes”
We read you, we hear the lines between the sentences and we love the way it spurs us on to read more. Good work.
this is beautiful …..hmmmm …mind over matter .