try to relax as much as you can without losing control of the vehicle. If I lost control of the vegetable I might have a lot more fun. Then again I might not. It is as if it is up to you. Why can’t I practice? Why do I wait for permission? Why do I put up with irritation? Why do I leave things undone why am I so unsure why do I do things I don’t even know if I want to do let alone am any good at/ AND MOST OF ALL WHY DO I ASK THE SAME QUESTIONS OVER AND OVER AGAIN? WHY DO I ASK THE SAME QUESTIONS OVER AND OVER AGAIN?
Walking. By James Brown Joyce.
I was walking. Walking. He was walking. She is walking. Neither walking nor having been walked, but no subject, no tense, no place, no perspective, no voice. Merely this, and this even without being pointed to by a colon:
(this) existing in a space/time without books boundaries borders religion (this)
only in the painlessly beautiful space of sheer white imagination land (the empty file the Untitled 1) )THIS)))))))sheer white snowbanks of litup photons
it stands alone
one word
over and over again
noiseless
perfect
mute
swallowed
here it comes
ready?
u walking. Neither walking nor having been walked, but no subject, no tense, no place, no perspective, no voice. Merely this, and this even without being pointed to by