Thursday, September 30, 2010

in an

indefinite amount

—all these stimuli—

riposte

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 7:03 PM

Comments

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Sick. Just sick. A month already. It hurts. Sometimes.

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 7:29 PM

Comments

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 10:35 PM

Comments

Monday, September 27, 2010

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 5:34 PM

Comments

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 3:10 PM

Comments

Saturday, September 25, 2010

and there are

impotent moments

when all these

anxieties

deliriously flow outwards

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 3:18 PM

Comments

Friday, September 24, 2010

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 2:08 PM

Comments

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 7:46 PM

Comments

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 4:25 PM

Comments

neither
complete nor completed
journeys

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 9:14 AM

Comments

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

agonizing words
anticipate the harrowing
e.................................
f.........................
f..................
l.........
u.
........e
.................n
............................c
.......................................e

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 8:32 PM

Comments

Monday, September 20, 2010

the cruel phosphorescence

of the funereal sea cradles

withered

and

discolored

leaves

...

ostensible is the absence

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 2:48 PM

Comments

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 2:12 PM

Comments

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Sick. Doctor thinks it is anxiety.
I had no idea anxiety could be this painful.
Legs hurt. Arms hurt. Stomach cramps.
Heart beats irregularly at times.
Brain feels strange. Doctor thinks
it is all in my head.

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 7:08 PM

Comments

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 4:35 PM

Comments

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 10:04 AM

Comments

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 3:51 PM

Comments

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 12:34 PM

Comments

Monday, September 13, 2010

das Geräusch 

[...in a

pejorative display

of temerity

an aberrant cojuror

bellows

katzenjammer...]

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 10:07 PM

Comments

Sunday, September 12, 2010

body aches——

pain rhythmically smeared

...........as

spasmodic breathing.....

..............prolongs


..............................................hereafter

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 8:09 AM

Comments

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 2:56 PM

Comments

Friday, September 10, 2010

she sedulously questions

—when encountered—

ersatz zeal

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 2:44 PM

Comments

Thursday, September 09, 2010

—yesterday—
I saw a young woman
—dressed in red velvet—
weep as she vanished
—behind gray, smoky clouds—

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 3:45 PM

Comments

Wednesday, September 08, 2010

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 2:38 PM

Comments

Tuesday, September 07, 2010

An acute,

an insuperable doubt.


It dissolves experience.


Seemingly innocuous.

Inexorable silences.


Layers of sheltered sufferings are revealed.


Savage regions.

Unfathomable hallucinations.


Banal flesh in distressed stagnation.


Intoxicated vehemence

contradicts itself

in every single renewal of breath.

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 3:09 PM

Comments

Monday, September 06, 2010

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 6:40 PM

Comments

Sunday, September 05, 2010

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 9:34 PM

Comments

Saturday, September 04, 2010

the......

......dark

and...

soulless tale................

.........of an

unstoppable

................mindless

plague...........

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 2:32 PM

Comments

Friday, September 03, 2010

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 6:17 PM

Comments

Thursday, September 02, 2010

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 4:54 PM

Comments

Wednesday, September 01, 2010

{...

what....
would
Foucault
......do

?}

Posted by Nietzsche's Wife @ 3:48 PM

Comments

"I know I'll say something that's halfway clever but mostly shallow and probably inaccurate on some level. Then you'll pity me for having been born."

Don DeLillo, Cosmopolis



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