mary oliver was right: i am here!!! i am alive on this fresh earth!!! i am standing in my kitchen waiting for my tea to boil and that alone is proof of my existence!!!!
dont invite me unless these are the plans
seems like ill be seeing my friends go out while i sit w my viral fever, missing my sst mid term for my whole life
“Silk is a noun. All nouns are very lonely. They’re like
crystals, each enclosing its own little piece of our knowledge about the
world. But examine them thoroughly, in all their degrees of
transparency, and sooner or later they’ll reveal their knowledge. Say
the word silk, and it vanishes with the sound, but your senses,
your memory and knowledge cast back an echo. Write it on a piece of
paper, and it stays there, unmoving, but your thoughts and feelings are
already on their way to the farthest corners of the world. That’s what I
mean about the loneliness of nouns; each one has to be self-contained,
as if it were the only word that existed. As if silk were the
only word, and is therefore able at any time to awaken our encapsuled
knowledge not only of silk, but of the world itself. Even of forgetting.
Just try to forget the word silk, and you’ll be reminded of it
next time you see the summer sky, a flower petal, or the membrane
between two muscles in a butchered chicken.”
Inger Christensen, “Silk, the Universe, Language, the Heart,” trans. Susanna Nied, Poetry (September 2018)
