...I come back briefly to say, not as if I'm saying truth but rather as I say it to myself: I will not be fooled again, I will not be tricked by my hope and desire. No. I lay out cards in my mind...
I ponder this weird iconography, like some convoluted rebus I cannot decipher. Just look in dismay at these so-called actions and say: I will not be fooled again. Look at my soft brown eyes, look at the steel of disappointment, pain and time that I have invested them with, and mutter =The Flesh.=
But the flesh is weak... And so I poison, deprive and abuse it. Make it the whipping boy for my disenchantment. Tell it sternly =I will not be fooled again,= not knowing whether I am cursing or merely fooling myself with such incantation: I pound the flesh into the ground with neglect, till it is forced to shut down. And so I escape from my mind, and the irony of that dilemma.
klik if you demand tedious explanations of every little thing.
No comments:
Post a Comment