throttling your impulses
you end by becoming a
clot of phlegm. You finally
spit out a gob which completely
drains you and which you only
realize years later was not a gob
of spit but your inmost self.
If you lose that you will
always race through
dark streets like
a mad man
pursued
by phantoms.
You will be able
to say with perfect
sincerity:
"I don't know what I want in life."
HENRY MILLER
Sexus
3 comments:
Some very well placed words. I'm thinking of all the globs I've just spit away...
Ha! Yes, it's had me thinking about mine as well, Anthony. Hmm..
妳好呀!幫妳簽簽了!
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