I could’t sleep. I could’t sleep. Everyting’s far way. With insomnia, nothing’s real. Everyting’s a copy of a copy of a copy.我无法入睡。失眠症让我感受不到真实,一切都很虚幻,事情都成了相同的拷贝。
I wasn’t really dying. I wasn’t host to cancer or parasites. I was the warm little center. That the life of this world crowded around.我没有绝症,也没有癌症或是寄生菌。我只是一个小小的中心,周围拥挤的生命的中心。
If I did have a tumor…I’d name it Marla. Marla…the little scratch on the roof of your mouth that would heal if only you could stop tonguing it, but you can’t.玛拉犹如我的癌症,就像长在嘴边的烂疽一般。不去舔就不会恶化,但没有办法不去舔。
Fuck Martha Stewart. Martha’s polishing the brass on the Titanic. It’s all going down, man. So fuck off with your sofa units and strinne green stripe patterns. I say, never be complete. I say, stop being perfect. I say, let’s evolve. Let the chips fall where they may.去她的玛莎,玛莎所造就的世界慢慢沉沦。去你的沙发和绿条纹沙发布。不要让自己什么都有,不要做完美的人,我们要进化,水来土掩。