gwawk natacu

 

on the offchance she says though chance is rarely off and adjusts her mordant mufti to rouse a question from the crypt on the onchance then excuse the neologism to serve a purpose neither of us im absolutely convinced about in my doubt can remotely fathom that somewhere in your interior disorder might reside however encaged or roaming an attribute however fleeting or illusory that could suggest however remotely opaquely or disguisedly under the most generous circumstances an indication of the possibility of any realization that you as all things exist simply as a startlingly brief and comprehensively insignificant tıttle in a universe so vast and eternal it would laugh if anything so indifferent could ever enter the realm of wit 

you take me into psychopathic space baby he says and covers his feet like seraphim

in the attempt to communicate she says as she slaps aside the approach of a usurpation from a locked closet in an abandoned room on the floor of childhood suppressions were abducted into chthonic triforia where our task if we have any at all and this is far from certain is just to look but instead we direct whatever energy we have into being lulled into the unlook and there in the lulling how can we advance but through a retreat so singular and exhaustive it instead of participating in our movements defines our very being

i take my time i do it my way i run the race he says and removes his trousers and slathers his member with garlic vegenaise and recites some nursery rhymes about dinosaurs and tulips and the gardens of the rich

it doesnt matter if we devote every minute of our furious meaningless lives to maintaining however increasingly precarious delusions that accelerate however fragile our ridiculous and hyperinflated notions of self as long as the relations we construct enable us to walk erect through forests of hostility and meadows of humiliation for how could any of us and surely you in reality or fantasy are not exempt cope otherwise with the draft of void as it approaches unmitigated by the wonders of fashion and caresses of cliches

were all sloshed clowns passing limp batons in a relay race no one understands i know you dont eat meat but will you just this once make an exception and feast on this eggless condimented stranger

the end was never supposed to be like this she says silent and full of garbage and wipes a finger of vegenaise and takes it in her mouth like gasoline as if shes at a picaist party the point is what could we ever do but what were doing necessarily pathetic though it not only is but must be even and perhaps especially in our fabricated reasons

dont lose sight of the great battalion in the sky my dispossessed amazonian though we can hardly see it he says and slices his member off and hands it to her the way she likes on steppes of radicchio and kalamatas pierced into it with coloured toothpicks

what were saying while it has little to do with reality though im unsure that matters anymore she says and takes a munch of the proffered snack has much to do with moving forward in ways that might surpass any mission imagined so far in the minds of sages which exciting though it seems cant live up to the promises exacted at the cost of any pretense of intelligence

who dont exist of course he says but thats beside the point and watches while she gulps the last bit down but the only true crisiss the one we cant do anything about which effectively now is everything and they the dialogue having more or less finished cross to different platforms he to the stanmorebound jubileetrain to transfer at bakerstreet for latimerroad to watch the thirdgame of the stanleycup in his chelseaflat and she to the stratfordbound to disembark at canadawater and visit the neglected graves of nunhead