File spoon-archives/bataille.archive/bataille_1999/bataille.9902, message 289


Date: Tue, 23 Feb 1999 09:55:16 -0400 (AST)
From: Stacey Maxine Armstrong <armstrsm-AT-is2.dal.ca>
Subject: Re: the familiar you


i slip the verve into the player on repeat and begin another round. i only
have bataille's writing on general economy in bed with me...the yeasty
risings of seeing my name in typographic hollowness enough to propel
me to get out the pinking shears...i will not rip just yet...not
intentionally....its something more (always) than brewed and brewing, not
communicating movement...streams of words...running into the ocean...these
silly strange strings...not even knowing...not recognising change...the
interlocking matrices of subjectivity and the impossibility of stillness,
stilling , instilling...only throbbing. 
Do you know throbbing? not the legitimate pulse of patterning seconds, the
blood that punctuates me...other than brooding brew...always other
othering..collapsed uniformitarianism...only me projecting not/never
eclipsing..waiting for perplexed yelling scorn chatisement tired but still
throbbing...i allow you to chide me and the change is typing...words
doubling verbs...i am taking a small train...not realising the imminent
moments of collapse the exhaustion---the introspection i deny until
moments of stressed terror melodrama...rap tap tapping---tapping...the
throbbing never about owning and never comparing.
How might the escapable toss of turn...the wishing for nouns to become
verbs...dogging and catting me but more like trucking and fucking me.
toggle me whole.
elixir- last and timed
the notion of moving brooding
can i pink and shear you
writing the deadness bitter...but you 
familiar you
still daunting strange (words) they must be words
coming to realise limits...it's not endless deferral. 
pulling this fraudulent fraud off
text word coping mechanism
but can i cop a feel of you?
with  marching stiff starch words...
you never said they would remain...not understanding lasting (last)
duration...never wanting it to be more than five minute thrusts- thrusting
bent- self-pleasure with another not ever present for another something
slipping and slipped...not catching the craters of exchange...only
claiming exchange when it could only be the mutilated body of Arnold's shy
tyranian trader or the cheese of Irigaray's angels.
might i show you the depths and distances of intervals of my intervals?
certainly longing and projectile vomitting?...projecting
intention,,,internal gut sustaining...carbohydrates spinning into sugar
webs...the lasting metaphors circling boldly circling without the restless
watch the spackling and speckling...always the suggesting of
clinging..;.oh those so dependant verbal rumblings...could i catch and
spin strangely casing adverbs...little inverse craters...an exchange of
adverbs without nouning me....so when did creeping become so radiohead
insidious. "this time i'm going down"
What creeps with longing (lovingly)?
never conning anthing 
geal me
municate me
sternation
all these latin verbs buried metaphors
excising metonymy
not always a useful distinction
but i would not have the familiar be useful...
certainly not the familiar you 
not the diseasing disease
yes fascinated by doctoring
these words
a cancer dressed up like a rainbow
not content to embrace
so close (closing) to embarass
the relatives of verbs cooling world enveloping appearences
particle participles and working verbs 
Why constitute this working place with constant creeping...wrecking
response...the responsibility...pick up my duty...the next one lilting
from the line... the tailor te-tailored...capering.
Can you craft the limits of a caper?
never with gealing CON anti gealing.
silly silly i meant 
that i exist between affection and affectation.
finally i get to be the answer to a questing question.
what seperates affection from affectation?
stacey




   

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