If I was a particular strain of Blake Butler I would say that I don’t listen to music when I write because there’s no music darker than my own mind. Except I know that Blake Butler wrote EVER in a period without sleep over two or three weeks while Blue Velvet played on repeat on his TV. Is that just a legend that a dumb person (me) has received. Is TV darker than music? No. I think the thing about music is really more about how music interrogates or disrupts his writing. Would not Blue Velvet disrupt it more? Yes. Probably.
Does he even “write” however.
A list of things I wrote down as topics for this blog post: New apartment. Violence. Weakness. Health. Love.
I have a new apartment and it is like a hipster palace with Corinthian columns. There is a grand staircase going nowhere. The bathroom is larger than some apartment’s second rooms (if you stripped out the fixtures), but the kitchen is a microwave and a futuristic hotplate and a sink and many electric plugs that opens out from a closet. It is better than that but it is also that.
It feels comfortable here and the cats are happy.
It is also only mine. No danger inside the apartment. Of anything. I could live here for a while…
My health is better. I discovered what the issue was and now I take seven bilion tiny organisms two times a day and I have almost entirely cut out wheat and sugar and other starchy carbs. For the time being. I am able to run again. After a period of intense fasting and owing to the realities of moving I have slipped out of convenience here and there and that is where the tiny organisms come in handy, I think.
What is love is it a vulnerability. If one loves is love about allowing oneself to be weak. Desire is different than love we cannot always love whom we desire. We are not always willing to be weak with those we desire… We cannot always be weak with those whom we desire. Love is unique because it is this ability to be weak combined with history or trust built between two people. That is why love is exceptional and that’s why love is stronger than desire.
I don’t actually wish to write about violence. I finished my book and my mother called me after she finished reading it. She said she enjoyed it. She said, with hesitation, that there were a few typos… If there are any there are very few in its 78 000 words.
She also said it is a book that contains a lot of pain… Yes, it does.