Give Me A World, You

Novels Institutionalize The Ruse Of Eros. It Becomes A Narrative Texture Of Sustained Incongruence, Emotional And Cognitive. It Permits The Reader To Stand In Triangular Relation To The Characters In The Story And Reach Into The Text After The Objects Of Their Desire, Sharing Their Longing But Also Detached From It, Seeing Their View Of Reality But Also Its Mistakenness. It Is Almost Like Being In Love.

The Greek Language Seems Different Than Other Languages. I'm Not The Only Person To Think This. Usually, I Come Up With Some Kind Of Dopey Metaphor For Why It's Different. But It Seems, Somehow, More Original, More Like Being In The Morning Of Language.

The Self Forms At The Edge Of Desire, And A Science Of Self Arises In The Effort To Leave That Self Behind.

I Don't Read Reviews And I Don't Know What To Do With Opinions, So I Just Lose Them. They Take Up Space, They Become A Process Of Manufacturing A Persona, Which I Want To Avoid.

Making Is Always A Slightly Hopeful Thing Because Once You've Made Something, It'll - The World Will Be Different.