No subject

[integer at www.god-emil.dk]

betty blue - !ez.
she shoud h!m dze uorld - l!ke tzo

Kissing the words, remembering your thoughts in my streams
... rushing away to be your voice, singing your world as 
I crush the stones under my waters.


[uen he uaz knok!ng 01 ual doun 2 make zpasz 4 _da!!!!!l!ght (v.!mportnt
 he za!d !n h!z ver! bezt xy z!l! vo!sz - do ! look l!ke rock! 4 darl!ng +?
 she: non. du = look az !f u r ur!t!ng ur book.
 he: uat +? ! dont undrztnd
 she: uarm.kompaz!onat zm!lz  [az cam!le !n `lez mepr!z` - mor g!glb!tz++

uen dze book uaz publ!shd
she bekom !ll [u knou uh!

he tr!ed 2 take her home.
[dzere uaz zomdz!ng elsz h!er. re: med!kaz!on. doktrz etc.
he d!dnt zukzeed [zomdz!ng about xyz = 0+0 alone]

tzo he = dreszd az 01 2x + entrd dze hozp!tl + ...

he uent _home



ver! ver! obfuzkatd. 

az hesse urote:

"It is just the same with mothers. When they have borne their
children and given them their milk and beauty and strength, 
they themselves become invisible, and no one asks about them any more."

"But that is sad," I said, without really thinking very much about it.

"I do not think it is sadder than all other things," said Leo. "Perhaps
it is sad and yet also beautiful. The law ordains that it shall be so."

"The law?" I asked curiously. "What law is that, Leo?"

"The law of service. He who wishes to live long must serve, but he
who wishes to rule does not live long."

"Then why do so many strive to rule?"

"Because they do not understand. There are few who are born to be masters;
they remain happy and healthy. But all the others who have only
become masters through endeavor, end in nothing."

"In what nothing, Leo?"

"For example, in the sanitoria."

I understood little about it and yet the words remained
in my memory and left me with a feeling that this Leo knew all kinds of things,
that he perhaps knew more than us, who were ostensibly his masters.





http://www.m9ndfukc.org/data/noisz/duet.mp2         [dze! konzumd ever!dz!ng. 4 u r ekzepz!onl


My soul warps the fragments of my desire into an image of you. A shadow of liquids, I 
wrap myself around you and slowly disappear, as your heat evaporates my fluidity. 
Instead of an abundant stream, I remain visible only as sweat drops covering your 
translucent skin, but I exist as the raising vapor, the unity of your heat and my 
transcendence. Leaving the layer of condensed steam on every surface in this desolate 
city. Flooding the deserts around. I drink your sweat, becoming fluid again, gliding 
over your rhythms, envelop you in shadows and humidity. Underneath the sweat, your shapeless 
body is carved with your knowledge, and I become your humble pupil, absorbing the symbols 
of your world through every touch. Kissing the words, remembering your thoughts in my streams
... rushing away to be your voice, singing your world as 
I crush the stones under my waters.





zuch forzez _____....