Message-ID: <alpine.NEB.2.20.1602031820340.21741@panix3.panix.com>
From: Alan Sondheim <sondheim@panix.com>
To: Cyb <cybermind@listserv.wvu.edu>, Wryting-L <WRYTING-L@listserv.wvu.edu>
Subject: thoughts on my birthday
Date: Wed, 3 Feb 2016 18:22:37 -0500 (EST)
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 -