10 Out of 10 Clowns

15 May

Kafka’s tormentor was his father, Hermann. He drove him over the cliff into a metamorphosis of a heinous insect. Then came Felice’s teeth. And finally God from up above, in the castle which would send out decrees but could not be reached. At the end of it all, he asked Max Brod to burn his manuscripts, eviscerate everything that he had written. Fante threw questions at the dust and all that came back was a howling sandstorm of despair. At the end of it all, he was rendered a blind invalid from diabetes. Pollock took out the innocent life of Edith Metzger along with his. Most cannot forgive that. No one can fix anyone. All we have is excuses of past abuse to perpetuate future abuse. And more. And more. We lie. It’s all we do. Predators. Trust. I cannot pick up the pieces and put them together coherently anymore. Every time I try, the picture comes out obtusely macabre and twisted and melting like Dali’s clocks. And we are so unsophisticated in our massacres. As if it would make it any easier. Or better if we weren’t.
Fuck.
Bukowski scraped his knuckles on the pavement for seven decades. Dylan Thomas raged against the dying of the light. There are countless other stories. People we’ll never know existed who banged their heads against closed gates. Close the gates.
Humanity, you sick motherfucker.

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2 Responses to “10 Out of 10 Clowns”

  1. Tisha! 15/05/2007 at 10:45 PM #

    fortunately humanity’s existence is but a speck in the history of the universe

  2. Anonymous 16/05/2007 at 10:09 AM #

    3 posts in one day and all personal. Bad news.
    J

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