I grow warm, i begin to feel happy. there is nothing extraordinary in this, it is a small happiness of nausea: it spreads at the bottom of the viscous puddle, at the bottom of out time - the time of purple suspenders, and broken chair seats; it is made of white, soft instants, spreading at the edge, like an oil stain. no sooner than born, it is already old, it seems as though i have known it for twenty years.
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I Grow Warm, I Begin To Feel
I grow warm, i begin to feel happy. there is nothing extraordinary in this, it is a small happiness of nausea: it spreads at the bottom of the viscous puddle, at the bottom of out time - the time of purple suspenders, and broken chair seats; it is made of white, soft instants, spreading at the edge, like an oil stain. no sooner than born, it is already old, it seems as though i have known it for twenty years.
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