The meetings of Harry Haller have begun.

13 January 2007

Bajo,

What is below has been celebrated, respected for years in privacy.
Allow the darkness to supply nutrition; we are all more in the
darkness.

Today there was much time spent on transportation systems, speeches of
what one might do with an endless supply of paper. All I could think
of was buying my father a world trip ticket; destinations to be filled
out at ones own convenience, that is when he has decided where he
might want to have his last child. And, of course hiring a team to
surgically install a horn into the crown of a very large black horse,
attentive to the goal of doing it as painlessly as possible, this for
Alysia so she can grow up believing in unicorns. Perhaps on her tenth
birthday figure out a way to make it a Pegasus.

When later I was walking, unprepared for this horrid and frustrating
cold: my face stung, I met with a man who speaks so kindly, speaks
with his tongue, as if a baby was in there. Can you see it (bite my
lip). Though as you predicted there was no concentration, no interest
in listing reasons for doing or not doing. There was only a hope of
entry, a colliding of intellect and my stupid little hands that have
been hurting a lot recently to merely accomplish it, to finish it, and
burn this fabric: wrong choice in skin to yearn for. There will be no
more talk of recollection, most men leave pennies on the train tracks
for this sort of photography, we on the other hand take pictures of
each others lovers in snow, in sections, in squares, and then with
mistake and accident, perhaps subconscious intention overdevelop the
film so Xiao is only pink spots on wet plastic. I apologize to myself
for it.


-Cari