Well it's obvious at this point that you've stopped listening fully. You are sitting in your computer chair and sipping on something alcoholic, reading slowly and with trepidation. There are fears returning to your head of things you thought you had abolished. There are foreign words on the tip of your tongue. You are lifeless.
You have to read and the re-read the sentences but with sighs of contempt. They are too complicated for your busy schedule. Now your time is tainted with the consideration of words. You want to know precisely what happens and in the slightest amount of words. You do not want to have to read through the references and understand. Many of these references are personal though if you read deep enough they are quite obvious in their denotations. You do not read deep enough. You are a dirty piece of human meat. I am a dead French author living vicariously through a nameless American pseudo-writer in the modern age.
Regardless, the words are too rich and the fame just isn't there. Do I realize now that suddenly the editor is an important tool for this kind of writing and someone else must revise and work through the words and make their own sense of it. But there are two different kinds. Writing purely for artistic or material purposes. The true artist works for artist integrity and gains respect and momentum in such a manner. Word of mouth about his honesty. Shake the world with these realizations.
become too careful
lose the audience
due to so called
artistic integrity
but the true meaning was
hidden behind the stacks of cash
and suddenly the entire world
pays attention like paying rent
in a casual and attentive manner
wary of obstacles
though transcending them.
----
he listens to TV On the Radio. Drinks a dark beer that once would assist monks in fasting during periods of solemn months. They would curb their appetite quickly. Chips and salsa and donuts. Christmas lights decorate the ceiling of the room. It is comfortable despite a bit cold. Hats are scattered everywhere .
but then it becomes too intimate once again and no one understands. turn away reader. shake your head at me in shame. this guy can never make a point or solidify an issue. it just never makes sense. and he uses big words in order to sound high and certainly mighty. but they don't work because as a layman I wouldn't have dared to look up the word I would have happily died without ever knowing the meaning or the context. the author instantly becomes a mystery. the motive unknown. the sentences scattered and never reworked into perfect order.
it is all just a wasteful first draft.
we can always cut pieces off from this.
but tend to hold onto moments dear to us.
due to emotional connotation or significant reference.
no reader would have understood
no one ever does; this is certain to be true.
avoid that verb and every possible consumer dies
in the process
they die with their arms full of bogus interpretation.
