I try to read Henry Miller once in a while, but its like walking through a group of several hundred people all of them jabbering away, some of them beautiful. All however exuding uniqueness like it was the meaning of their life. It is utterly overwhelming to read more than five pages of Miller at a time. Below is an excerpt from Sexus, the Rosy Crucifixion. Until I read Davinci Code, the whole Rosy Crucifixion stuff didnt make a dam bit of sense. Now it almost does. And by almost I mean it still doesnt make any sense, but if I ever finish the trilogy, its concievable that a meaning will become apparent to me. Where are all the female muses? Gone I tell you. Gone forever. Actually, a better question would be, Where are all the male muses? Probably in a walkin closet somewhere sucking each others cocks. Anyway. Heres the excerpt. Bah. Snizzle my bizzle and stuff. Im so unique. Im so perfectly not like every other freak that wants to be different. Im so totally not like the person that I suddenly hate intensely. Everything I write lately seems to be bitter and somewhat cruel. But Im not feeling bitter in the slightest. Im completely content and happy. So what the fuck? I wonder if this applies to others. If a lot of people who write bitter stuff, really are not as bitter as it seems, and are really just sort of playing.
No matter what I think I am or how I detest you... I want it, and I want everything that goes with it: I wish it were bigger and fatter and longer and juicier: I wish you would break it off and leave it in there: I dont care how many women youve fucked, I want you to fuck me, fuck my cunt, fuck my ass off, fuck and fuck and fuck. Im horny, do you hear? Im so horny, I could bite it off. Shove it in all the way, harder, harder, break your big prick off and leave it in there. Im horny, I tell you. Usually after these bouts I awoke depressed. Looking at her with her clothes on and that grim, tight, caustic, everyday expression about her mouth, studying her at the breakfast table, indifferently, not having anything else to look at, I wondered sometimes why I didnt take her for a walk some evening and just push her off the end of a pier. I began to look forward like a drowning man to that solution which Stanly had promised and of which as yet there was not the least sign. - Henry Miller
Miller, what the hell are you saying? He always impresses me, but Im usually left with no opinion of what it is Im reading. And Rosy Cruxificion. What the fuck is that? If it has to do with the sacred feminine I think Ill have to stab my eyes out. I think its a law. There are some things that a person is not supposed to know. Ill be Oedipus and you can be the sun. Ill be the blind man and you can be the substance that Ill never see again. Davinci code. Read it in three days I did. Good times. Lots of interesting stuff. The epilogue was pretty great too. I will never finish Sexus though because its too much to take in. Its like trying to eat a full grown giraffe, with skin, fur, bones, and genitals still attached. Im thinking Ill probably have to delete this whole journal entry tomorrow. I dont know. As the woman said, I need some voodoo on these brains again.
No matter what I think I am or how I detest you... I want it, and I want everything that goes with it: I wish it were bigger and fatter and longer and juicier: I wish you would break it off and leave it in there: I dont care how many women youve fucked, I want you to fuck me, fuck my cunt, fuck my ass off, fuck and fuck and fuck. Im horny, do you hear? Im so horny, I could bite it off. Shove it in all the way, harder, harder, break your big prick off and leave it in there. Im horny, I tell you. Usually after these bouts I awoke depressed. Looking at her with her clothes on and that grim, tight, caustic, everyday expression about her mouth, studying her at the breakfast table, indifferently, not having anything else to look at, I wondered sometimes why I didnt take her for a walk some evening and just push her off the end of a pier. I began to look forward like a drowning man to that solution which Stanly had promised and of which as yet there was not the least sign. - Henry Miller
Miller, what the hell are you saying? He always impresses me, but Im usually left with no opinion of what it is Im reading. And Rosy Cruxificion. What the fuck is that? If it has to do with the sacred feminine I think Ill have to stab my eyes out. I think its a law. There are some things that a person is not supposed to know. Ill be Oedipus and you can be the sun. Ill be the blind man and you can be the substance that Ill never see again. Davinci code. Read it in three days I did. Good times. Lots of interesting stuff. The epilogue was pretty great too. I will never finish Sexus though because its too much to take in. Its like trying to eat a full grown giraffe, with skin, fur, bones, and genitals still attached. Im thinking Ill probably have to delete this whole journal entry tomorrow. I dont know. As the woman said, I need some voodoo on these brains again.