Straight to Jesus

Very interesting, Mr Muder...

Back in Italy

Have been here for almost 10 days, and I my body is beginning to develop strange tremors in my left arm, accompanied by enduring throat-piercing pain which basically prevents me from speaking.

Temperature outside the house: -2 C.
Temperature inside the house: -12 C.

Essays written: 0.
Books read: 1.
Studies researched: 142 on line. None read beyond the introduction.

Historic Italian cities visited: 6 (Rome, Siena, Bologna, Parma, Milan, Venice).

Cars crashed: 1. My mother's. Into a wall. Somewhat the nervous system felt better after that. The noise of lashed metal soothed my growing sense of internal panic. Cronenberg sprung to mind. I feel like doing it again.

I am beginning to look like Rasputin. Unshaven. Feverish. A Dostoevskyesque murderous character. I am convinced I am being spied. Or followed. Or both.

Tonight's news: gay rights activists place statuettes of a gay and a lesbian couple in the Parliament's cresh in Rome. An old man is arrested for pretending to be blind in order to claim benefits from the state. Prime broadcasting time devoted to both news: 15 minutes. Time devoted to international news: 0.03 minutes.

I feel like I am living in a sinister pantomime.

I miss my world. I miss the world.

To Jeff

There's the moon asking to stay
Long enough for the clouds to fly me away
Well it's my time coming, i'm not afraid to die
My fading voice sings of love,
But she cries to the clicking of time
Of time

Wait in the fire...

And she weeps on my arm
Walking to the bright lights in sorrow
Oh drink a bit of wine we both might go tomorrow
Oh my love
And the rain is falling and i believe
My time has come
It reminds me of the pain
I might leave
Leave behind

Wait in the fire...

And I feel them drown my name
So easy to know and forget with this kiss
I'm not afraid to go but it goes so slow

mana mana

Shortbus

Fabulous. It's just like the sixties, only with less hope.



Sofia: I think I have some sort of, you know, clog in my neural pathway somewhere between my brain and my clitoris.

Justin: That's disgusting. Don't think of it as a clog. Think of it as some sort of magical circuit board. A motherboard filled with desire that travels all over the world. That touches you. That touches me. That connects everybody. You just have to find the right connection. The right circuitry. Look at all these people out there. They're trying to find the right connection. And I personally expect a few blown fuses before the night is over and maybe one of them will be yours.