Monday, March 14, 2016
More 2007
Jan 07
I had another dream about you. This time you were over me, finally. It was happening but you kept saying " I don't want to do this, I don't want to have sex with you" and your body felt so good next to mine and I was kissing your fingers and your chest, but I was saying "I don't want it then, Don't do what you don't want to do." But I wanted it, I wanted it. And you were relieved, and you left me, and we continued our day together, but you wouldn't make eye contact, and every chance I could I would kiss your skin, your arm, your fingers again, but you were trying to get away from me. No, not even, you just didn't care at all if I was there or not, and I still had this desire to fuck you, it was strong, so strong. But it was obvious I would never get what I wanted.
Even if you did fuck me.
The Iridescent Journal from 2007 when I found Henry Miller and made him into my artist's statement.
I want I want I want
to be so occupied with receiving
that I don't want.
If I fucked everyone in the entire world would
my fucks be less valuable than if i only fucked the love of my life?
Does it matter what kind of fuck I am talking about?
(Now ask for love instead of fuck)
Is it really as valuable that God loves me if he loves everyone?
There was this moment.
I was lying in bed,
surrounded only by blankets
well blankets and
air and
darkness
and i was rubbing myself
faster and faster
til
i burst
and then i cried.
I cried hard.
and that is what i want to
capture, that is what i want to show
show
show
everyone that can see.
There is only one thing that interests me vitally now, and that is the recording of all which is omitted in books. Nobody, so far as i can see is making use of those elements in the air which give direction and motivation to our lives.
-Henry Miller
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