Monday, March 14, 2011

i heard

D: What other plane can there be for the maker?

B: Logically none. yet I speak of an art turning from it in disgust, weary of puny exploits, weary of pretending to be able, of bing able, of doing a little better the same of thing, of going a little further along a dreary road.

D: and preferring what?

B: the expression that there is nothing to express, nothing with which to express, nothing from which to express, no power to express, no desire to express, together with the obligation to express.

D: but that is violently extreme and personal point of view, of no help to us in the matter of tal coat.

B: ---

d: perhaps that is enough for today.







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That feeling that you get when u finish a book. where u just sit in disbelief that it is over. that that place you got lost in for a while is now gone. a lifetime lost. then its on to the next one. i like that feeling after you finish. although describing makes it seem like a bad feeling. its a good one. i am crazy words.



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