under what definition shall we call these lines?

the levels of apathy are at astronomical levels. it’s almost as though the alliteration makes it tolerable. oops. there went the alliteration.

asking three times. it’s always three times. sometimes the going back and forth is the most frustrating thing. but then again, i’ve spent so much time in absolutes, that it only makes sense that the movement is inherently frustrating. the difficulty part is something that is not only difficult, but is difficult to articulate and difficult to know what to do with such a difficulty. it’d be nice to sleep for a few weeks.

sailors fighting in the dance hall.
take a look at the law man beating up the wrong guy

those lines always make me think of clockwork orange. not entirely sure why.

we know failures aren’t as bad as they’re made out to be. we know that we must relish the failures in lieu of successes. but what do we do with these failures? where do we put them? how do we juggle them? do we throw them up into the air and let them drop like cannonballs upon our skulls one by one?

smile when there is no reaction, when there is no idea of what the reaction should be.

do not pull too hard. such sage (haha) advice.

when i was younger there would always be talk about reading taking you and allowing you to live in another world. but that was never how i read. i was never able to imagine the world of the novel in my mind’s eye. it was never about me living in these worlds. it was about putting these worlds together and my actual eye being able to soar across them, constructing them and tumbling past because i was able to. that was almost the novelty of it. the fact that this was something i was able to do. and i wanted to read as many books as i could. quantity was a big part of it. and that’s something that i’ve been trying to break away from for a while now. only recently have i truly realized the novelty of rereading, at least rereading when you can actually reread the text and your past rereading simultaneously. sometimes you read and reread but it’s still the same story, but different parts are highlight, but in the same colour. the point of rereading is to go back in a different pen as a different person and look at your previous notes and snicker at them as you would the underlines in a used book you got from amazon that never go beyond page thirty.

what to do oh what to do with poetry. what to do with words at this point? all those websites about how writes can sell out for social media work. and i just don’t want to do that. i wish i could find diaries of writers complaining about what to do with their work. but i guess most of those writers didn’t think of their words as really something to be relished and preserved. or did they? Dostoevsky wrote to pay off his gambling debts but he wrote before those debts began to accumulate, before he was sent off to Siberia. the gambling debts just forced him to write. it’s that force. that idea of work being the tightrope walked between life and death.

Tolstoy. tolstoi. approximations of a Cyrillic character. i like that letters may be called characters. it gives them character. you’re in charge of the letters. it’s purely an aesthetic choice on the part of the English-looking author. it’s not that they speak in English. it’s that their eye looks in English.

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