Black Book

The most fun with words I have had lately is Ada by Nabakov.
It's French and Russian.
And the two characters write in code.
As it should be.

Like Ginsberg and Mayer.
Whomsoever joins the cypher and can stick around long enough
shall have the glory.

Perseverance. Dedication.
( to the art, not the job )

( to the love, not the technicalities )

I made a loving Uturn last week and my body hasn't caught up with me yet.

Dr. Love says Mumbo Jumbo that I enjoy like this, " are you a body with a spirit or a spirit with a body? " or something like that. I assume he believes in that stuff, and I have my own way of saying things.

I wonder how long I will live.
I don't feel healthy. I'm dying.

( we all are. everyone dies. )

I have a friend in particular who is acting like a widow,
acting
acting
acting

I don't have the energy to tell her what I know, because it would be forced, ingenuine.
My belief, when a friend dies, goes beyond anything I can put into English words.
That's why I so envy the characters in the Nabakov book ( language, my love, i am married to the words )
If I said it in English, it would scare me. I can only say words like 'protection' and 'body guard' and 'sea glass' to describe it. It is my code language and you can't take it apart.
It is my deconstruction.
Structure that makes up the bones of what I am.

Yesterday, I gave up on all the questions and themes of academia.
My thesis is "Everyone Has Bones Underneath"

It takes away all the talk about blood. There is marrow, and it is where the blood comes from.

This is all I can say. It is from a poem by Neruda and it might be my thesis.

( whatever a thesis is... which is beside the point. )