but yes, oh yes, it's shifted in that irrevocable way.
it irritates me that my mind is only ignited, so randomly, like this from moment to moment. sometimes there's weeks of sneaking and sliding. but now, no. this time, i fell. and fell. and over arse over hands, i am gone.
i was at a friend's studio in sydney. it was the most beautiful room i think i've ever been to. i fetishise white. i am a minimalist at heart, i am wet over ryman, and white walls, and the denseness of the gallery white. and this room was clouded, drenched, milked in marble dust on every surface. it coated the floor, footsteps burrowed into the white, and the light that filtered through split into fragments from the airborne stone. i wanted to die in there. i wanted to be buried, and let the soft flower white stone sink into me, into my body, fucked with the white, fucked over and under this emptiness, this negation.
No comments:
Post a Comment