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Michael, you have just seen your own mortality as you scraped your belief system off the walls of our apartment. Garnished with parsley, the white meat of a lightly cooked trevally witnesses its fighting death – no creature, man nor fish, has a fate other than is writ in its entrails. The haruspex is always spattered with carnality. * Turn to the sky, throw a stick upwards, and if perpetually it happens to come down, lose yourself to gravity – laugh instinctively, and in that moment your released ethereal self will unlock your sleeping, and each star stifled by this cloudy night vaguely uttering its protest will augment your will, refine your imagination. Scrape quixotically. |
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