Subject: you learn to have a life | Date: Sat, 15 Jul 2000 01:44:30 EDT | From: paula | To: undertow@vega. org || Hi tow, || Tear my body from the ground. Sing to an empty apartment. I've been reading about typefaces today. Times New Roman. Arial. Goudy Old Style. Garamond. And on and on. || In the night I wander around alone in my apartment. It's twelve-thirty. World without end. And on and on. Back in 1993, I'd stay up all night and play my guitar, listening to 99.9F. Mornings blurry. I might be out like a light. || How do you save your own life? I can't really hear you in the thickening of fear. World without end. What I'm looking for is a lifeline. And I'm scared. How did this one life fall so far and fast? How do I save my life? || I'm being existential: despair non-stop! Well, it does stop - but then I'm alone in my apartment. Apart ment. I stand in a wide flat land. Philipp, are you there? Sue from Japan? Bruce M? SuzyV? || Name yourself, you rage of bones, | you who jams everything into the ground with your thoughts, | you who thinks God keeps secrets: | name yourself, and give that name meaning. || You who thinks the day is assembled logically, | like a machine with gears and tunings | that can pop out angels like loaves of bread. | You whose words choke your throat, | who has a howl strung taut from your gut | and out through your tongue into the sodden morning. || You who lives in the space your mind has defined | must now imagine yourself out of the darkness | even thought you still pretend | you don't know what beauty is: || the last of all puzzles, the harvest of your heart. || love, | paula