excerpt from theincurable flirt:
my bones will become brittle, my skin will sag and turn bluish gray. i am in love with my life and my death and nothing else is as funny and sad and funny. i am in love with people who are in love with life and death and who laugh at jokes that lie just below one's bluish gray skin (which is quite scary when you look at it for the first time). i am morbid and i am fascinated with the laughter, the dying laughter, the cackle of madness, of evil, of good. i laugh along with the few who can laugh at themselves and see how foolish we all are to think that we know so much. we know so little, so little. we only know things that are above the bluish gray skin: the wounds, the scars, the unwanted hair, the unwashed, unreachable corners of our bodies, the sex and the embarrassment and beauty and shame of nudity. the human body, the stinking fool, the beautiful animal. i love all women and i admire all men. and i love the shape of women's hips. next to the circle, nothing else is as goddamn perfect. the curve is the sexiest thing in the world. the curve will lead us down in a spiral, descending, sliding in wetness and singing the wild song of death and booty and hilarious rebirth (pop! squiggle!). you are dying, a wilting blue rose. together, we divide and hurriedly spread the madness. you are beautiful and strong, and all of us are gorgeous. our minds know so little because we know only the smell of skin and the physics of our hearts. we are fools. and our skins will sag and turn bluish gray. we are beautiful, dying, sexy fools. we are gorgeous, bony, sexy animals.
that's him in writing and the naked chicken runsto the opposite side but of course, she will never see a thing.
