Thursday, March 4, 2010
I am reading books on physics that I do not understand. I am reading them in this man's voice. I am doing strange interviews with the wind, a pageantry of blissful madness played for empty stadiums. I am allowing to speak to me that which does not have a voice. I am deciphering codes and symbols. I am making up the future to understand the past. I am clenching pens and pencils like rifles at the ready. I am bewildered and frustrated and enraptured. I am a conspiracy of one. I am burning with a thing inside me. I want it to catch fire in you, too.