Endless Affairs

a practice in automatic writing

it is really quite an endless night with endless houses and endless roads with many cars that don't go in the same direction. I don't remember when i started walking; there wasn't any beginning that i could recall but i do recall the other beginning, the beginning within the beginning, and that was the beginning of the falling, and when that happened it went something like this.

the affair between your legs and the direction in which they walked. you weren't aware of that until now, but before you could remember such a time without this knowing, you notice the cars, the road, the lights on the road, the lights on the cars; the cars that went in any direction but straight ahead. it wasn't disorientating, but rather, the silence that comes after cars stop coming down the road for a while. and then that was okay only, the houses. the homes of sally and joseph and gregory and piper and billy and vincent and lilah and dylan, houses with no lawns, houses with no windows or sidewalks that led to their front doors, no doors at all, just cubular structures that frightened you more than the cars and the road and the affair between your legs and the direction in which they walked. that was only the beginning. there was a middle, only it wasn't a middle. more of an abstract flow of the condition of your body under the burden of cause and effect. it went something like this.

the despair. the lurching and the forwardness, the sidewalk, dear god the sidewalk. the lights turned to nothing, the sound demanded to be heard, the house, the homes, they had windows. she stepped out. and then he did. and them dylan and lilah and gregory and vincent and piper. their faces. their eyes. the horrors of being grasped by the uniform force of knowing anyone but yourself. then the pain went on your face, my face. the paint went on and dylan and joseph and lilah and gregory and vincent came forth and the wind of their bodies dried the paint and my legs got distracted by the chips of blue and black and purple falling at its feet. a temporary distraction. the affair was over. i became aimless.