Love: a Musical II
I’ve been honing my intuition, been clumsily carving a man out of will, humanity, geist,
and calling it art – can you believe that? Been saying my life is in diegesis – like my life is
entirely of my own creation, like the art of living is the degree to which we steal our identities
back from our creators, like somewhere inside me is a child that wants to slap my parents and
say, “Don’t fucking tell me what to do!” Like my life isn’t endebted to every single person
I ever share time and space with, like I’m invulnerable, like there is no pain I know.
I put on ‘Alley Cats’ by Hot Chip, ‘All I Want’ by LCD Soundsystem, ’10 Mile Stereo’ by Beach House, Girlfriend,
not to oppress your space or to control your entire perceptual universe,
but because as Cormac McCarthy once wrote, “A man…can know his heart, but he dont
want to. Rightly so. Best not to look in there.” I am but a human, a weak communicator,
flimsy with language, and only ever half-understanding of my true emotions,
so I say those things I’d rather say, feel those things
I’d rather feel, and I try to keep them as sincere as I can.