domingo 9 de agosto 2020
What if I don’t get to the shore, not even to the shore of my bed? What if i just lay in the middle of it all day, as if beer, breath, and stillness were enough? Actually the fan was blowing on the shore of my legs, between my thighs. I lied. It IS blowing. It’s almost enough. I still need these words though. la quietud y la corriente de aire tibio no bastan ---------- What if I forget about word counts, movement practices and self-imposed rules for constant creation? What is left? Could I bear it? ¿qué hacemos sin un pie forzado? ¿pie fluido? How well can I break my own rules? Why did I even need them in the first place?
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