Message-ID: <Pine.NEB.4.64.0902221453410.4261@panix3.panix.com>
From: Alan Sondheim <sondheim@panix.com>
To: Cyb <cybermind@listserv.aol.com>, Wryting-L <WRYTING-L@listserv.wvu.edu>
Subject: this morning
Date: Sun, 22 Feb 2009 14:53:56 -0500 (EST)
this morning i thought i had only fourteen years to do anything at all i worried that it was too late to continue playing new instruments i felt my manuscripts were permanently unpublishable i sorrowed over azure accompanying my life i was grateful for azure's kindness, intelligence, beauty, compassion i was saddened i could never learn another language i shuddered over never leaving this godforsaken polluted new york loft i feared we'd end up homeless and sick i knew that somehow i should welcome death i was cowardly in the face of welcoming i was sure everyone thought the second life installation was a mistake i felt i'd outworn my online welcome i was positive the second life installation was too much too old too dead i thought about my body collapsing from now until i died i felt everything my body does now is a sign and a vector i hated and feared death more than anything else i cried over death and the fear of death and hopelessness i thought i should get out of bed and get to work before it was too late i thought there's not enough time left for anything but important things i knew what was important and what wasn't for me i mourned over the total loss of faith that brought me to this impasse i tried to bypass fear and mourning and started studying physics i studied physics and finished an eighteenth-century play i read about sardinian music and internet pornography i knew that nothing would work for long i knew going online was temporary at best i searched for distractions and found none i cried over how little time i had left i mourned over the vile and the fury i thought the new worlds were dead, the old ones never alive i thought nothing was ever alive i considered suicide as a bypass i thought the bypass would literally dead-end and then what i contemplated the what http://www.alansondheim.org/thenewworld.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/thenuworld.jpg i wanted to leave as quickly as possible, the day slate-grey, external turns nowhere of particular movement, as the world slowly disinvested itself of me and my kind, of me, what sadness, oh.
