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. “No, don't warn me I know it's wrong                                               But I swear it won't take long”                                               - Yo La Tengo “Relations are more important than the things they relate,” your old comrade said, in the late afternoon session, in that city behind the taciturn mountains, his hair now colorless as snow, which came late this winter, not unexpected, but a surprise none-the-less, like an off-color joke at an increasingly drunken party, filled with relations and old friends, who had come from – but enough, this sentence is to long already, and must stop now! But why? Won’t it just be followed by other sentences? And they will still be connected to the last. But, again, why? Is everything connected? Perhaps, yes, in the bigger picture, but we can not always be in that position, must glide like rivers, understand through concrete images, cement our small innovations in place, and re-enforce them -- béton armé it’s called, in France -- Oh! France! Land of Paris, capital of the 19th Century, with its naïve progress, its precursors, and its unconscious serenest seeds, rêves and nightmares.
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Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 11:35 PM UTC
Untitled (relations are more important than the things they relate)
. “No, don't warn me I know it's wrong                                               But I swear it won't take long”                                               - Yo La Tengo “Relations are more important than the things they relate,” your old comrade said, in the late afternoon session, in that city behind the taciturn mountains, his hair now colorless as snow, which came late this winter, not unexpected, but a surprise none-the-less, like an off-color joke at an increasingly drunken party, filled with relations and old friends, who had come from – but enough, this sentence is to long already, and must stop now! But why? Won’t it just be followed by other sentences? And they will still be connected to the last. But, again, why? Is everything connected? Perhaps, yes, in the bigger picture, but we can not always be in that position, must glide like rivers, understand through concrete images, cement our small innovations in place, and re-enforce them -- béton armé it’s called, in France -- Oh! France! Land of Paris, capital of the 19th Century, with its naïve progress, its precursors, and its unconscious serenest seeds, rêves and nightmares.
Cauchemardesque, 2016
norm-deplume
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Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 11:35 PM UTC
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