That space when I come back to the flat from a trip away and find myself at two millimetres' distance from my life, allowing me to see it from outside, or from above, the sense the space gives that I can intervene in that life, nudge it, then, two hours later, in fact, already disappearing and nothing done in it, but perhaps this, a sentence running to its end, with enough structure to be the eye in a needle of the self through which other words may be threaded, later.
Hi conor,
WHAT? What is this about? I don't get it.
It's got some good words in it, making it look all fancy and philosophic, but I still don't get it! Haha! Could you please explain to me what you mean? because it's pretty frustrating, reading something coming out of your uncle that doesn't make any sense. Pretty worrying too. Haha... only joking.
Love,
Bea
Posted by: Bea | July 05, 2007 at 07:52 PM