”These are the fluid, solvent egos who lie still as a fetus in the uterine marshes of their stagnant self. When you puncture the sac, when you think Ah! I’ve got you at last! you find nothing but clots of mucus in your hand. These are the baffling ones, in my opinion. They are like the “soluble fish” of surrealist metempsychology. They grow without a backbone; they dissolve at will. All you can ever lay hold of are the indissoluble, indestructible nuclei—the disease germs, so to say. About such individuals one feels that in body, mind and soul they are nothing but disease. They were born to illustrate the pages of textbooks. In the realm of the psyche they are the gynecological monsters whose only life is that of the pickled specimen which adorns the laboratory shelf.
Their most successful disguise is compassion. How tender they can become! How considerate! How touchingly sympathetic! But if you could ever get a look at at them—just one fluorescent glance!—what a pretty egomaniac you would see. They bleed with every bleeding soul in the universe—but they never fall apart. At the crucifixion they hold your hand and slake your thirst, weep like drunken cows. They are the professional mourners from time immemorial; they were so even in the Golden Age, when there was nothing to weep about. Misery and suffering is their habitat, and at the equinox they bring the whole kaleidoscopic pattern of life to a glaucous glue…” ( Henry Miller, Sexus )
In lack of a backbone, I collect memorabilia. Lack of space – I buy more clothes. Lack of air – I sink even deeper.
I still cannot properly ride a damn bicycle.
I still cannot happily eat what I am cooking.
I still cannot readily accept what makes me uneasy.
I cry and I laugh – but in the adequate light it is always, unmistakably only about
People turn out to be excuses for me to overdress and stare at my own reflection in the mirror.
I see nothing, nothing, nothing
Special thanks to Bella Renner and Florin Dumitru as well