Friday, October 11, 2013
I wish to enter the water but there is no water. I am able to
sense minute changes in temperature simply by sitting here.
To the left of me is a bowl of sweetened condensed milk set
aside for some unknown purpose an hour ago. To my right
there are five pieces of folded paper; on one of them I can
see writing – a list of songs perhaps or expenses. As I said,
there is no water. The person I originally sent this to was
clever and deleted his name before he sent it back. I notice
the flowers are for rent. I would translate your glance into
words and your words into thoughts and your thoughts into
clouds. But the clouds would not be cloud-like. Once as I
was walking down an empty street, I saw an apparition – it
stood several stories tall, and gestured to me, in a vague,
preoccupied way, as if to say, 'What does it matter now?'
– from Quorum by William Fuller