Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
inspirational message or paranoid sorcerers? #nyc #graffiti
There are sounds that I’ve never heard, but only heard of. Like the sound of the great veil that ripped in two when Jesus died. I wonder whether Caesar’s voice was hoarse and rattling when he said whatever he actually said to Brutus, or whether the blood pooled silent and thickening beneath his back. I wonder what noises my little dog made when he was born, whether it was anything like the “shush” he made when he crumbled in my arms. What did the first cicada that ever existed sound like? Did it cry like it was mourning the sun back then too? When Ravel placed his index finger on B-flat, when Barber gathered his breath like a stack of worn love letters, when Hemingway pulled the fucking trigger, I suppose it was like the clatter that a deck of cards makes when it spills out of hands—loose and un-contained. I pull and I pull and I pull at the drawstrings, at the cursive of one man’s scrawl, in an attempt to see the line that separates day from night, but the universe is empty—three shot glasses collecting only what cannot be.
I tore my curtains in half this morning. Just to hear the end as it was meant to be.
Vancouver: Never before have I been in a city that was as able and eager to strike up a conversation.