lady day...

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sense... this notion could be exemplified in that of
a more pleasurable experience... the depth of
enjoying a thing, an experience, is most sagacious
in the throes of discovery... the deeper the more it
becomes what it truly is... the taste, the texture...
Heaven pronounces itself, by way of probing this
thing, experience... though our Heaven is still
orchestrated by the simple tropisms of Hedonism,
it can be said, because without this pursuance, or
need of a motion towards, there is an inability to
truly gain the true ingredients of what it is that is
occurring...
§§§
...Ludwig seemed quiet, on arrival, but
would leave his manuscript around, Hedonism As
Our Only Meaning, though often came across an
aesthete, a disciple of some sort to a reckoning of
some order... Melania would quickly enjoy their
conversations, her one hand holding a glass of red
wine, the other twirling in the air like a cloud...
...particles bunched into potential rain
drops, white against blue some days, moving in
our sky, and maybe or maybe not there when not
looking, these clouds...
...a warm piece of bread hot out of the
oven, produces a question: what am I to this piece
of bread?
...a walk along Victoria Park with lingering
doubts of achieving sanity...
...the threat of death staring down from the
window of a Tower Block next to Broadway
33