because you are capable of marveling at my tellings of penis suction, and you marvel at the tales of kings that lose their kingu doms, because of that, i sit today to write.
one time, katurlijk defended my statement saying that everything is literature. he did so for the wrong reasons. in fact, he didn't defend me at all. he insisted in specifying that literature can only be that thing considered to be literature, by 'qualified' individuals that conform an Academy of language. and within, i know that you understand us both. still, you innocently agree with me as you masturbate to that exposé of marilyn monroe you have on your wall.
and, it's not that i just randomly think that everything is literature. no. i think it has to do more with that strange feeling i get within my bones. you know, the one when you can only stand and stare at the poems that walk around the street, every single day.
i like doing literature far better than reading it, these days. who knows, perhaps next time we meet we'll compare notes, and talk of those raskolnikov sunsets, and the pink skies that watch above.
Posted by Jojo at April 13, 2008 12:43 AM