The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

August 11, 2013


ying yan

self-love, our love is capable of flowing outwards, embracing
the whole world of beautiful people. and self-love is not a
myth; it is close to singing. it has always been thus; self-love
and loving and speaking and thus; self-love speaking, events
want gifts

think of self-hatred and its inversion on the net - not the
cloying of on see you, see me, i find myself awkward; my
self-hatred results in my jewel, the breaks mirror, the fogs,
your breath! their holds volves himself even in the self-hatred
of the colonized or hate, but then everyone would think it's
self-hatred; i'd love you, but maybe this transforms into
self-hatred (and 'if you can't love yourself, no one can love
you'), elevating self-hatred to a geodesic, and i think: holds
their breath! your self-hatred fogs the mirror, breaks the
jewel, man blah blah, i'm not even human blah blah, i'm too full
of self-hatred did stay the course, and often was converted into
a kind of self-hatred; fits and starts and in my own little
cultivated realm chora of the voice, losing myself, my
self-hatred, web-inverting myself inno me, when the self-hatred
subsides and the language begins. and here, for myself, i try to
deal with depression and self-hatred, through the example of the
marranos we've learned self-hatreds and their ten realistic
justifications - in such a world self-hatred stands one in good
stead

thinking of the fledging of the lesser spotted eagle in estonia,
and the rain and how that's a given for the fledgling, how it's
there and unnamed but part of the world - it's not the case that
the world is all that is the case, but that the world is part of
the world

that is the case, and if i hate myself you cannot hate me more
than i hate myself and therefore i am safe from you and this
hatred is comfortable, is my comfort-place, my warm-place, my
hearth, and you cannot touch my hearth - earth, heart, hear,
hart, ear, art, you cannot touch my place at all. in my earth
heart i build a place to live and i can love you from there and
love all the animals and plants and men and women and children
on this earth hearth and every other, i can love every other,
there is so much love i can give, it flows outward from myself,
there is none in reserve for me, it spirals as ear art spirals.
and that is your strength, your strength in the spiral, you need
not be center, you have your center, where your hate may reside
or may not reside. for it is not given to one to know the center
of the other, nor for the other to know the center of the one.
and if it were not for love of the other, there would not be
love of the one, and if it were not for love of the one, there
would not be love of the other. and where am i in the spiral of
so many, where spirals others and one who may be considered
grace of all men and women, grace of all plants and animals, and
of all. and i am not there, in the spiral, which is a fabric i
wear about me. and i am in the fabric.

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