"So I feel a bit bi-polar- so fucking what? Everybody has poles, they just aren’t always exaggerated to the point of seeming all-encompassing. The wretched gaiety, the bruised joys of interaction and intervention can flail you and leave you naked, your arteries, veins and nerve-endings exposed to the relentless elements. Imagine a sterile homogeneous world where everything is not just vanilla, it is sugar-flavour-excitement-free, totally devoid of the sinister and blissful vagaries that season the dish. It is fucking hard to deal with raw emotions: Picture the slaughter, the cleaning of the beast, the preparation of the cuts of meat- that’s raw emotion. Nothing like the golden fucking ratio of a medallion fillet served as haute cuisine. So emotions tend to leak and spill, and shriek and cower, and resist taming at all costs. They spew into corners and coat the freshly laundered linen hanging on the washing line with grime and industrial fallout. They come with their corers, gouging and splitting the flesh, dividing the heart from the marrow. Yeah, we reel into the pathways of oncoming trucks knowing that the coup de grace is imminent, yet powerless to resist ..."
Scott Dunlop
No comments:
Post a Comment