Saturday 17 June 2010
53 Space.Age

1.

ANOTHER MORNING.

I wake up late, as usual. I went to bed late. I almost always go to bed late. Early for me is eleven. I like to stay up working and playing on the computer until near midnight, then watch a little television, then go to bed and sleep until eight.

Fortunately for me, the work I get – when I get it – lets me pick my own hours.

Today, however, it is morning again and I must think about getting back to work on the translation of F.’s long poem. I promised him a complete draft – no matter how rough – for him to read when he gets back from Peru.

---

Behind these words
the indecision of a man;
his infinite past that travels
with redeeming battles and the dead
to the innocent mystery of blood.

Whoever detests the upright storm,
its roads, the savage greyhound
of this childish dream,
does not approach our games,
does not get close enough to contemplate
the bonfire discussed by the horde,
no, better he does not come.

---

Yeah it’s pretty intense poetry. And it goes on like that for another forty pages or something. Okay, okay, maybe only thirty.

I had some dreams last night I am trying to remember. I couldn’t even remember them when I woke up right in the middle of them at midnight – when I had hardly been asleep for an hour already and found myself having to go pee. Go figure. It was something something something I just cannot remember but I remember being fascinated by the concept and wanting to know more, but my body was urging me to drain the liquid I had forgotten to expell before I laid me down to rest etcetera you know the rest. Then I slept until five and had to go pee again. Welcome to the middle ages, Ralph von Tinklestein.

Wow. Where did that name come from, that is weird. Von Tinklestein. Heh ehehe hee hah.