Notes

How do I explain such a page of notes? How do I tell you, beloved readers, that, the more I write, the more feverish my pace, the greater the pull of my graphomania upon my wrist, the more words flow through me period? Words that are my own. Words that are nonsense. Words that are, yes, the words of others. It yanks and tugs on my wrist, its other hand — paw? — lingering so sweetly on my neck, drawing lazy fingers across as though to bleed me dry of ink, and from out of me spills my words and also the words that have ever made me what I am.

Here, then, are the references as I remember them. I will apologize no further.

[…] am I a falcon, a storm, or a great song?

From Rainer Maria Rilke:

Ich lebe mein Leben in wachsenden Ringen,
die sich über die Dinge ziehn.
Ich werde den letzten vielleicht nicht vollbringen,
aber versuchen will ich ihn.

Ich kreise um Gott, um den uralten Turm,
und ich kreise jahrtausendelang;
und ich weiß noch nicht: bin ich ein Falke, ein Sturm
oder ein großer Gesang.

---

I live my life in ever-widening circles
that stretch themselves out over the world.
I may not complete this last one
but I will give myself to it.

I circle around God, around the primordial tower.
and I circle for thousands of years
and I still don’t know: am I a falcon,
a storm, or a great song?

[…] dance unblushing […]

Cf. Darius Halley:

We turn to dust
Get swept away
To make room for
Empty nothing
Amble through the
Air and find a
Ray of light and
Dance unblushing