tomorrow will be my last post, yes? as the residency has ended, and this is denouement. so oud for your enjoyment. I'll give out URLs tomorrow for continuation of everything elsewhere. thanks for everything, Eyebeam!!!


People: Alan Sondheim
Research: Sound
Tags: sound, oud, pain, death

the only thing i can really say in favor of my work is that i try to be
absolutely honest. this doesn't mean things aren't hidden; there are
things i curse myself for daily, hourly, that remain in the dark, that i
try to subvert, repress, rescind. but what is said is the truth as i find
it, which of course is no truth at all. i am a brilliant musician for
example by virtue of being a fraud; i am a selfish friend and lover
perhaps, always on the mend, emending, making amends. i believe others may
be the same, feel the same, scratch away at similar surfaces; for example,
celine was braver than i, perhaps vile to a greater degree. i know where i
stand; like other deluded people, perhaps, if i am so, i revel in my mind,
in the dismal horizon of future discovery which will never come, but
always seems just within reach. if at this point i am a menace to others,


We are stardust

'We are stardust' from which everything, all philosophy, proceeds, a
timing and process that is always coming to an end. So we are vast, we are
communal, every atom from another source, another distance, every atom
silent as to history from which we draw only this, that history is silent,
that our micro-histories go against the grain, are retardations, are the
source of pain, of holding back, as if there were beginnings and
demarcations evident in Being, and as if becoming were a universal law. We
are stardust, we have already returned as such; at the edge of the
universe our faces and bodies live and project, towards that Being and
becoming, we are observers of the cinema of disappearance; it is ourselves

People: Alan Sondheim
Tags: death, pain

broken conversation

----------------------------= YTalk version 3.3.0
=----------------------------- therefore something should come together
between the two bodies separated by a serrated division, vertebra one
among other. pain is this logging-out, is the collapse of the backbone,
the melting or melding of the body as it begins to disappear.the body's
not here either, the body is a square, is a playing-field, the body is a
holding-pen.the i is a stream of i's, of eyes, these appear as if it were,
but just imminent, as if just momentary, just for a minute.drying, in
other words a stain or residue, we can say a conversation is a drying, a other words, you're saying this is dust, this is red dust,



In the year 5000, my birthday falls on a Monday, I won't be around.
Somehow, this makes me unutterably sad, weeping.

Our span is so short, we all know that, but this, this concrete
instance, tears through me. And I won't make it, to be sure, past

February 5000

Su Mo Tu We Th Fr Sa
2 3 4 5 6 7 8
9 10 11 12 13 14 15
16 17 18 19 20 21 22
23 24 25 26 27 28


culling holocaust culling

his poetry of elegy and holocaust related to the pure red-dust tomorrow,
holocaust city "his poetry of elegy and holocaust related to the pure milk
skin memories "we attempt to flee the holocaust, *they begin here. looking
out over holocaust city, wires everywhere* - forgotten names - names from
holocausts - dance to stay alive - holocaust come, every day we await the
nuclear holocaust to come, jennifer said. everywhere i live seems like a
holocaust that i bring with me. fading and i fear nuclear holocaust,
incipient fascism already on the horizon, and i in this or other groping
holocaust. laura taught because holocaust paul audio autobiography 10 11
100 101 110 plutonium world open vector yesterday holocaust neck. i

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