Don’t Fetishize Me

by dschapman

If I were a passionate man, I’d build a marionette and a set of a house on the sea. Like the house on the island off the coast of Maine, or a beautiful villa in Spain. I haven’t built even one marionette in my life. I spent a weekend in Prague (as it goes, Praha) reading all about Kafka and I wanted to shoot the young man in the back of the head. I wonder what the devil looked like. The man who betrayed Fritz alone on his death bed, who published his personal works to the world. What sort of a monster could do such a thing? As violate a man’s basic right to his personal thoughts? There is no great literature there but mockery of a confused individual, and we are all no less confused. Our only protection is the right to our personal belongings. If you publish a man’s personal belongings against his admission you are violating a personal right. What I mean is – God, its personal – everything changes when its personal, it just isn’t that easy – just don’t – ah!

A set designer, a ballet dancer, inside that hairless thigh a softness – Bessie Mae, I cried for thee – “I’m no good ma! I’m no good!”

Petition to declassify data – petition to declassify data – petition the lord with prayer (as when you chop the tail from the lizard it just grows it back again – it’s no use trying to talk to these people) – via passenger pigeon, and the pony express, and then finally passenger rail in person – in an airplane cruising at 35,000 feet while Clara Rockmore plays over the radio – who put Clara Rockmore on the radio? My friend is a character actor, they call it a Method. It is universe-speak, the language every system uses. There is just one methodology and to actors they call it the method. As with the philosopher you call it the language game. An axiomatic set of principles. The aesthetic manipulation of the natural world – and an imposition of spirit. With spirit you’ll conquer the world! Yours is the earth and everything in it.

I’ve been a shepherd in a grove… seen, yes, and heard, the fracturing soul – bliss and twilight – I grow dim.

I failed my last semester of school because I grew indolent. And now I am bored.

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