I've been in love before
  But it's never been as hot as this
  Smoke curling round the door
  Memories of old loves crack and blister
  Mister fireman bet you couldn't put me out if you tried

the fact that great fire burning, the fact that tms was so bad today it took me a while to get over it and all i wanted was a hot chocolate and a gluten free lap dance, the fact that i floated the idea to katya and she came up with the artisanal sipping chocolate anarchic strip club of portland, the fact that great fire burning through, the fact that i’ve listening to this song before, the fact that it’s never been as hot as this, the fact that where am i hiding in all my recent writing, the fact that am i becoming more fractured or am i just afraid to write a single coherent sentence, the fact that writing a single coherent sentence that means anything at all is one of the hardest things, the fact that i stole this from lucy ellmann but i’m yet to come up with a better way of getting these thoughts out in any kind of coherent way, the fact that what does cohere mean, co-here, the fact that what if i turn this into an unordered list, the fact that i stole that from lucy ellmann too, the fact that i stole that from georges perec too, the fact that i am only now watching small prophets and it has broken my heart and made me laugh a couple of times too, the fact that he reminds me obliquely of imogen, the fact that the opening scenes told a beautiful story without words and i wonder how much that meant to most people, the fact that was that a generous gardener arching over his doorway, the fact that the cunts from the home owners association, the fact that i’m still watching your movies and shows like you’re still here, the fact that you never were here, the fact that michael palin reminds me obliquely of dad, the fact that i responded to kira like a robot but maybe that’s what she needed to hear, the fact that maybe it did help to say some things out loud to her, try to make sense vocally of all the things i’ve been unable to capture here, the fact that i had listened to great fire a great many times, the fact that i thought it was about a real fire because i never understand what anyone is saying, the fact that it had me in tears today when i figured it out, the fact that delayed processing, the fact that memories of old loves crack and blister, the fact that mummer is a quietly devastating album, the fact that i haven’t been able to write for months now, the fact that i just remembered anna today, the fact that we can add her to the pile, the fact that all griefs are stored in the same box, the fact that i just got a notification and i remembered it was cow without looking at it, the fact that my sickness might have hurt you and i still want you to read this anyway, the fact that i shouldn’t blame it on the sickness like i’m kanye west or something, the fact that is it the asymmetry of it, the fact that hendiadys is a funny word, the fact that i finally finished pruning the persimmon tree today, the fact that i pruned the bradford pear a bit too but i’ll never be done with that, the fact that i might never be done pulling up all those euphorbia seedlings, the fact that the other euphorbias seem to have all died and i don’t know why, the fact that i’ll try again this year and hope for something different, the fact that my neighbours are sad about people leaving poop in their garden, the fact that so am i, the fact that they put a sign up, the fact that maybe i should put a sign up, the fact that will there be more poop now in my garden because of their sign, the fact that poop used to mean vagina, the fact that i told katya this on our call today, the fact that maybe i shouldn’t have done that

nothing again, claire said cunt about fifteen or twenty times in therapy today, made me feel safe, hendiadys, sophie, herme OH knee, rhiannon walked in on me, you’re fine i said, leave the grapes out on the doorstep, one hundred and fifteen percent of motor threshold, i’ll be damned if i can get that thing to flower, hold your tongue fool, roses don’t have thorns they have pricks, esteban, yum yum, what’s eating gilbert o’sullivan, muy muy, thinking back elizabeth left a hole in my heart, but i can’t access it now, will i get there with emma though, heavy boots, i guess i probably will and i’ll also hate it when it happens, edie left another hole in my heart, can’t access that either and i hate that too, inaccessible hole heart, holeheartedly, is it because i made the hole myself, there’s nothing for you to give back, cut my snake in two, self esteem, i wish someone had told me years ago that self esteem is mostly measured in who you associate with, no regard neither, and they can all fuck off now i suppose, shirley too, brianna too, do you think i meant country matters, do you mean cunt, yes, yes i do, dog-z-toxic, apoplectic, brain cancer, don’t mention the war, i always did like two pillows, euonymous topiary titties, one on either side, hello dan, lovely day, nothing, nothing at all

just don’t seem to bind together like they used to, feel more like an awkward mosaic that might suggest some vague meaning but they don’t fit or show a coherent, discernable image, there’s no joy in words, writing does not intoxicate me, certainly not mine but yours too, and i did once envy your writing, or was it more that i envied your belief in, your passion for, stupid fucking words that are all dead to me now, haemophiliac, bleeding freely, anaemic, alchemy, adore you, heavy boots, i’m sorry, i miss you, should never have, intruded, not then, not the first time, fucking beautiful, will never understand how, i’ve never felt closer when you were so distant, not just, but also, no kissing, i’m sorry, i’m indignant, i deserved more, i never should have, emma, wondering what day it was when, it was decided i could never, come back, did i mean so, little and did you, lie to me or was the, truth always there, in plain fucking writing, in language i did not, understand

here we go again, round and round, a fresh batch unleashed by the big brain magnet, of dead fathers and former lovers, what else, and i swear i’ve written all these words before, but i could have sworn i felt settled about you even for a long time now, have not even felt when i’m writing that i’m talking to you directly anymore, on some other bullshit, but apparently the answer is no, there is still more, and all the same feelings reanimated, the feeling of intimacy, that no one has ever felt closer, that you accessed a secret part of my brain that no one has ever seen before or since, made me believe that i shared it with you, and how can you not know that we were there in dreamspace, impossible, or you do and this is my punishment, your silence, forever and ever, and the thing that i’m supposed to learn this time is, as unlikely as it seems, that you brought your friend with you, i do not know her, although she is you also, and i don’t recognise her, i’ve compartmentalised you, one part same brain, one part aloof, i don’t know, hypersexual, hello kitty inception, and i still have your book, though i guess i was never going to top little women, and the realisation once again, the shame, that i think you were afraid of me, and i wish i could go back and undo everything that might have made that so, wish i had never, charlie xoxo

. . . . in which i am on a cruise, working remotely trying to fix a bug before it gets to production . . . i am anxious to avoid its paging katya, who i think is also onboard . . . matt is also there and we talk philosophically about the design of things, he seems stuck in that phase however while i think i have a simple solution . . . the problematic part is a top-level queue constant that has been clobbered in an upgrade . . . richard is sitting across from me and seems annoyed that i am distracted with work and wasting his time . . . i go back to my room to change into something more flamboyant, maybe leopard print, while still trying to get the code to completion . . . when i come back out i am surprised to find that richard has organized a suprise party for me, and there are hundreds of people seeming to cheer me on, but i don’t know a single one of them . . . i assume they are all old flames of his, mostly older white women . . . .

only just realized the other day, after 20 years or something, that do you know how to waltz is not a waltz, it is in  time, HOWEVER, the bulk of the song is more or less the harmonic structure of the sung part - the 3 chords - played roughly evenly though smeared by delay and the brushing of symbols, almost arrhythmic but suggesting a protracted and abstract waltz, an interior waltz of the fucking mind, around the unknowable part of my experience that only you have seen, or maybe i just thought you did and you thought i did yours and maybe there’s something in that even though we were just kidding ourselves, but its sufficiently potent nonetheless to be destroying me once again

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