La vie continue..

I start to write and find tidy formulations. I skip the hard stuff to be entertaining even before I have noticed. I sit down with thoughts in mind but once the words are there, the meaning is slipping away. Better not to write, than write like that.

So, I trust my nonsense, the mimbling burblage which emerges from the half-conscious, the semi-sleep state. There is uncensored truth. I am not scared of deranged and alarming words. People, yes, words, why? They are only words. We pretend we control them but of course the opposite is possibly true. Taboos are not only rendered powerless, they are usurped, made into playthings. Style is meaningless. Structure finds itself.



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