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Notes from the Yellowground II


2


This is the third straight night I have had dinner in the house; the second night this week that I have not had a drink. Must be some kind of career high for me.

And dear reader, I hope you do not mind that this is the second such page where I just ramble and rant and type away without either blinking or thinking: this is an experiment, you see--an experiment for myself so that I may see one day how I write when I write in the way that everybody else writes; whether I also sound as bad or worse; whether I may one day find humor in my words or hate myself more than I already do; whether I can be honest to myself or remain a hypocrite like everybody else. But why postpone such knowing and judging to a future time, a time when this experiment shall be assessed?--because I do not read what I write; I get sick of it--like the way a chef does not eat what he prepared.

I give you a hint, dear reader, as how to read me in this naked way: read it aloud, read it proud--aloud like a madman singing to himself in his dark solitary cell, proud as a man who is about to die with neither hope nor regret. Read it the way you read a Montaigne with his frankness, a Schopenhauer with all his bitterness and a Nietzsche with all his shouting and exclamation marks. Or, to make it easier: read it the way Dostoevsky's Notes from the Underground should be read--by listening attentively to the half-conscious and half-drunk man talking in the dark to himself and who says that unforgettable first line: "I am a sick man!" And if you missed it, that is why we have the same title--the difference being I am on the ground and the floor on which I write now is pale yellow laminated wood; and that sick man is six feet under the ground--go figure.

Well then, since all those unnecessary pleasantries have been done away with, I wish to talk about nothing tonight.


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Comments

  1. free writing? that's so cool! you are a true-blue OC, considering that you do not re-read what you wrote...
    just wanna commend you for your feat. i pray that you'll take care of your liver (and yourself) for good (=

    ReplyDelete
  2. hey yvaughn! but how does it come about that not rereading what you wrote is being OC? Is it not the other way around? Ha ha.

    well, thank you. and i sure do hope that my liver lasts as long as it can. take care!

    ReplyDelete
  3. hehe. you're OC because i don't see grammatical or spelling errors even if you did not re-read your works. hehe (= i usually get a typo when i don't edit my work, so i end up re-reading, re-editing, and revising...

    ReplyDelete

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