There’s always something new to try by Regina Avendaño
Can I ask you what you’re thinking?
There’s always something new to try
Mary walks in reciting some self-reflection. The ego loves to make us into a project. Like you’re a tragedy remembering itself. Like you can keep a parasocial relationship with your appeals. What I was saying is you don’t have to refute yourself just to feel something. You have still a fantasy for exile. Whatever you want to have tomorrow. And of course, this. There’s always this. Even when everybody comes in lousy-headed and feeling so free. That’s when you take a hammer to every mirror in the British Museum, ask someone to cry with you. Say I would like to be saved now. But that’s no one’s responsibility. You know that. Everyone knows as much. Still I can’t help putting all my favourite things onto the train tracks. At the busiest time. And for you, it’s probably getting repetitive. Did I tell you where I came from? Can I ask you what you’re thinking? It’s another one of those days. The murmur of contextualisation. Letting the moon scream profanities in the spirit of trying. Twenty dead pigeons everywhere.
Oh Mary, the murmur of contextualisation! More than twenty dead pigeons here, my life! My ego in every mirror in every museum. I can't wait to figure out what's next.
Yes, as Emma said, and: "Like you can keep a parasocial relationship with your appeals." Yes. And: "You don't have to refute yourself just to feel something." Yes. More yeses, on all these maybe nots.