There is a rigidity within Anaïs Nin's kind of consciousness; the way she concludes out of a moment and makes fact out of a fleeting emotional climax. She fashions her friends, family, and lovers, all interchangeable, into characters whose actions produce powerful effects within her; she is reactionary. And perhaps the pursuit of pleasure is the reaction to an instant of stimuli. I feel like all your conversations are high stakes he says, recalling an intensity that twists us in our thinking about love; that consciousness which captures our desire and quells it by force. We smother in sweet words and then with our bodies, and after we sense shame, we regret. And yet I think of you constantly. I bask in the melodrama, and wave my fingers over the quick air on my bicycle like a conductor arcing the strings of a crescendo. I feel the rhythm of cracked asphalt on my palms and from the seat-cushion. I laugh at the way I am smiling and cliche thought that I am alive.
- arhavel posted this