the story goes like this: Master Nansen notices that all of the monks in the temple have been playing with a kitten they have discovered, but this small kitten becomes a source of contention between different sides of the temple, and the monks of the East Hall and West Hall begin to quarrel. Nansen takes the kitten and says to them, unless anyone can give a good reason why i should not kill this cat then i will have to do so. No one is able to voice a reason to save the kitten’s life, and the master subsequently beheads it. Later, when Joshu returns to the temple from an errand, the priest says to him it was such a pity he had not been there earlier, that he might have been able to save the kitten’s life. Upon hearing the story, Joshu takes his shoes off and places them on his head.
“a jouissance and trauma event.” rediscovering wikipedia (she had not been to the art fair, though always knew who was sleeping with whom), an answer, an answer, thinking as praxis. three meals a day, always a vegetarian option. (he’ll be moving to new york soon, G train commute) new word-constructs in the evening make up for things vaguely said, (the athletic body can’t touch his toes, thinking about serenity, sunburned amidst snow) an evening affronting thoughts, but 如果这样呢？ can cultural translation do what you do (a builder bounds up the mountain, jeans torn at the inseams), and would it be offensive——no competitive——his blind light, the other’s parrot, what you didn’t say may very well have been an ideology, too (he smiles so sweetly, nodding, Vertigo). but it moved me, it moved me, almost to toes but not quite yet, knees in pain, and it occurred that simone may have found it a warm-up kind of activity (pick another person in the room, and without them knowing it, follow them, follow them until the signal then try to grab at any cost), but physicality on time-delay is an encounter event, too. though we’re not yet feminist, nor poiesistic, and matrixial, hmmm… if it were so idiosyncratic and marginal, will it still exist in the end? (she said one gets used to the sight of dead bodies, and her eyes turned green) still have not seen Céline et Julie Vont en Bateau but have been thinking about it for years. the years don’t cut it, oh thirty, counting down, cut me out, 放新学的字在桌子上, words with slashes in between (she said he was like a New York painter in the 50s, but he prefers New Brunswick), what works like that , no more fixing up, please, “the possibility with a project is just to try.”
