ariana reines
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I WOULD LIKE IT
I would like for writng and inquiry to appear here. But I have a feeling that will not be happening this week or next. It will be snapshots and plugs, photographs of food even, like those vain blogs I loathe.
Even the verb “to share” is covered over in a creepy sheen, given what it means to be given what one has not asked for.
Sitting in a ramen place eating a bowl of miso the same pop song played over and over. What I hate about pop music is that it forces me to carry it, to be its witness, to bear its standard, to be its mule.
What if I don’t WANT to carry you? What if I don’t WANT to be the surface upon which you project your image, the better to receive its reflection in your own eye?
Luckily I suppose or happily as Lyn Hejinian would say I am not making pop music but only instructing myself in the dissolution of my voice via images of my painted face in this space.
Coffee wore off.
Bye bye,
A
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