Thorough rebuke, all you proud poets
Write what is forbidden, please.
Writing
If experience ruptures your philosophy of life let writing be your constant
What do you do when it hurts too much?
I am a thorn: beneath the nail
You get to choose for yourself.
How can hair come from what is not hair, or flesh from what is not flesh?
Name your fatherland and always be at home.
One must hate literature in order to be a philosopher
Even when your living flesh is scraped apart from you with the blades of oyster shells, you must write.
It’s not you, it’s them
Who is to blame when words won’t behave?
The energy of dislike
Write what is forbidden and set yourself free.
What we think becoming, others call unseemly
Is a change in perception about our writing possible? What can we learn from the neck of a dove?
The gift has already been given
What did Prometheus give to us all?
