in the context of becoming a human being i've started decorating. I MADE THIS AT 7:45 AM:

i'm writing a book to the object of my desire and so far have written 30,000 words. each one begins dear object of my desire followed by a rave. the letter is like a pistol. only shooting outward and i can't tell who it's hitting.

JG wrote on montevidayo "when i'm writing desire makes me sick" to which i think yes. exactly. and the way feeling sick. feeling bulimic. feeling nauseous is what i feel when i write. like i want to vomit on the word.

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