The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

February 3, 2016

thoughts on my birthday

about time to register title like this might be from another
century - our cat died nine days ago - how many people have
written or thought about the irreversibility of death - everyone
i know - a finality from which there's no excuse - amazing how
much philosophy written about this absolute - an absolute
absence says nikuko - that nothing can be changed, there's no
way to fix it - the gap's surrounded by a swirl of objects,
opinions, neural circuitries running everywhere - calm down,
objects, says julu - meanwhile it's raining out, pouring, it's a
cold rain, i say you can't see anything through it - outside,
there's an animal, a young cooper's hawk, sitting there in the
rain, injured, around the tail section, people trying to bring
it into rehab, no luck at all, it can fly just enough to avoid
capture, lands on the lower branches of trees around the
electric, wary, sits there, flying as little as possible - azure
has the flu, i'm not feeling so well but not as bad as that -
otherwise we'd go out with a flashlight, someone asked us to,
check on the hawk's condition - we light candles for our memory
of the cat, she's named ossi oswalda, it was our choice to think
that we recognized 'it was time for her to go,' but whose time,
what gave us the right to make this decision, our strength?, our
care for her?, we created the event of her finality, a finality
she was always already never to possess, we can never possess
out death - suppose for example, call this the college freshman
conundrum, we could reverse time, bring her, ossi, back, but
then with the reversal of time, or neurological processing
itself would be reversed, which may in fact be the case, we're
just in time, we in just time, we're in time, then all those
scattering processes, stochastics, nothing returns, everything
surges, neither in one direction of the arrow or the other,
nothing surges - and in the surge i wrote we must become space
and time, for all their anomalies, virtualities, we must lose
our bodies, our parameters, our temporal indices, we must become
the very inhering fabric of the world - we will meet no one
there, we will survive as such, perhaps memories, or the
snapshot of memories, or the knot or kernel of the snapshot or
it's dissolution disillusion - the rain is falling harder, the
hawk's there, azure continues with the flu, our cat ossi oswalda
recedes further, i'll create a video following her memory
through our two large rooms, her favorite places, where she
slept, ate, played, ran, used the catbox, where she climbed,
where she hid during storms, where she went quietly into her cat
carrier, so tired of all of this, where she left with us, so
silent then, no longer purring or purring inaudible, on the way
to our car, to our decision about her death, our one and only
irrevocable decision in regard to her who was so integral, so
much of family, so little of absolutes imposed -

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