Monday, 12 November 2007


Don't ask me to pronounce it. But it's what I am currently reading.
Ferdydurke by Witold Gombrowicz

Follows is the opening paragraph:

1. Abduction

Tuesday morning I awoke at that pale and lifeless hour when night is almost gone but dawn has not yet come into its own. Awakened suddenly, I wanted to take a taxi and dash to the railroad station, thinking I was due to leave, when, in the next minute, I realized to my chagrin that no train was waiting for me at the station, that no hour had stuck. I lay in the murky light while my body, unbearably frightened, crushed my spirit with fear, and my spirit crushed my body, whose tiniest fibers cringed in apprehension that nothing would ever happen, nothing ever change, that nothing would ever come to pass, and whatever I undertook, nothing, but nothing, would ever come of it. It was the dread of nonexistence, the terror of extinction, it was the angst of nonlife, the fear of unreality, a biological scream of all my cells in the face of an inner disintegration when all would be blown to pieces and scattered to the winds. It was the fear of unseemly pettiness and mediocrity, the fright of distraction, panic at fragmentation, the dread of rape from within and of rape that was threatening me from without-but most important, there was something that I would call a sense of inner, intermolecular mockery and derision, an inbred superlaugh of my bodily parts and the analogous parts of my spirit, all running wild.

Okay, it is passages like these that make me want to write and also dread to write. See, even that sounds crap, it came out all caveman, I am starstruck by a dead writer. He just sort up sums it up there...the angst of nonlife...inner, intermolecular mockery...Well, all of it really. And that is in translation. It makes me want to become fluent in Polish in the same way that Heidegger makes me want to become fluent in German. Ain't gonna happen, but its the thought that counts, right? Inspired and intimidated.

Tuesday, 6 November 2007

saturday moring in la

3rd November 2007 8am
I'm drinking a 5 dollar coffee by the pool @ The Standard on Sunset and Sweetzer. The ashtray is electric blue and sits on a zinc white table, which in turn sits on an acreage of electric blue AstroTurf. The maid, in a Pepto pink uniform, partially covered by a cheap navy blue windbreaker is vacuuming the AstroTurf. The vacuum is mostly putty colored and has an electric blue base and power cord which is plugged in to an impossibly long and infinitely kinked orange extension cord . The other worker, a man, is wearing the gas station attendant-like Standard uniform. Navy blue cotton Dickie's with a pale blue short sleeved shirt with soft navy vertical stripes. He is changing the butane canisters in the poolside heaters. In the pool are two clear pink plastic inner tubes. The water is perfectly still. The morning fog has yet to burn off and the towering palms and neighboring buildings look like awakening specters.

I don't know why but this weird combination, cheap windbreaker and all is making me really happy.