halbermensch

I've been meaning to write for some time. Actually, I've been meaning to write about the intention to write. But, then I put it off.

This frame of mind is similar to the phrase "let's have coffee sometime" (no, i won't venture to "DOing" coffee, ugh!). This could mean, I would like to have coffee with you! Or, it could be a "polite" (or cowardly) diss, a sort of death by attrition, that i will continue to say this and hope you go away kind of thing, or it could be I am hooked to the fucking gills on caffeine and need you to prop/pay for my next cup or pound of the stuff. Or, it could be an instance of two people who are not dissing each other at all but are actually in all reality "too busy", they are "working hard" which is just another sort of way of noting that we are discussing two cogs in the machinery of capital production who "haven't the time" to interact with people they care about.

I thought of this, over coffee today, with a friend.
And yesterday, with a different friend, as I have insisted to myself that I will go out at least to the local spot for a drink or whatnot.

Rilke said,
"Whoever you are, go out into the evening,
leaving your room, of which you know each bit"

Yeah, totally. Each bit.

It's kind of like I know each bit of blankness of empty screen. I absolutely know it, and yet, find myself dwelling there as if I liked it, which I dont.

Which leaves me here and with you, dear reader. Were you to ask, I would say yes. It's just that kind of time.