[starting over]
My friend just did something crazy. Something really crazy. He took this poem I read and wrote it. And then, after he read it, after he had written it, after he had it written by himself, he asked me to write something for him to say in my own voice as a response. So I sent him a recording of what I would have written for him to say as me, and then he read it back to me.
And when I listened to it, I started writing it down. And I started over at every moment. I began again and again. Every time I heard it, I started again. Over and over I started beginning. And the longer I listened, the darker it got.
That's what he told me. And when I when I came outside I noticed it was dark. The sky had already become dark. It darkened. And there was a sense that it had been dark for a long time, but also there was the necessity for the light for the light to begin again, in a kind of aggressive, tyrannical way, and I understand that. Well sadly I say that in a kind of patronizing way, as if I'm not affected by the day.
But it's an it's another move altogether to gain power for the Empire of Night, which I represent. And we are part of that company. The Company of Night, a subsidiary of the Party of Knife Memory, a much larger conglomerate consortium cohortium. Nasturtiums are spiciest in the morning. Spicier than night flowers.
And there's creeping that happens. Walking around and listening. And doors are opened on the other side, and doors are closed on this side. And there's a sense of private excommunication in the night. And I remain there as long as long as the night is. And I’ll be neutral in the night and do exactly what I need to do.
And I’ll pretend to have sympathy for the those who go about in the day as if it were the best time of day, and as if it were supposed to be that way. I will pretend to understand them. I'll go along with it. But it will be difficult because I know that it isn’t and it’s not. There's a whole there's a whole section of the night devoted to doing only what must be done, and the next thing I do will be in accordance with that realization, and all these anti-reflective gestures will creep in and brush up against me, awkward and paranoid.
☆