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(dear All, nothing new in this bio-text, I am just re-posting it under my real name, not that of Susanne) Biotext: Erminia Passannanti (for Poetryetc, 20 September 2000) I have nothing to say believe me nothing to add to the world's routine and yet for the sake of the one who calls herself Candid I will try to conceive a baby with five fingers for each little hand a perfect poppie back from the slug's mire a thought my double wearing an unfamiliar mask I am not disappointed by this request I will do it to overcome my stress but do not expect anything worth recording since all my days and all my nights are nothing but a strive to sink into an inner song and be distracted from the thought that I am condemned yes I am condemned to bear my limits and be in flesh and bones a woman carrying her body around so that when on my tracks I always bump into a curious block a young man with longish hair smooth skin a doll so perfect in his white projects what point I am not going to talk of this I will just let you know how he looks like so far the guy has one leather jacket and one pair of shoes legs of a crane no good nobody would guess he is also man of science matter of fact his house of mature mellowness is all superfluous with traces of previous visitors a lover a despot an art designer but listen when you look for a direction through the body of an opponent Mio Dio this is not going to work and all I can do is to pay a price for my few goods so that satisfaction may come through sweet eyes sharp mouths and add a micro pleasure to an acute desire he thinks it's a sad when you learn that nobody is going to care about what you do and whether early or late when you go home and find nobody you wish a lady's charity to sooth your sorrow of course a comedy I serve my office I say I do my service I am not a nun whose irregularities would pervert an entire convent you know better than me not all is Candid see what comes next my friend you who arranged for us to write under the imperative of flesh and its barometers lady of my soul my dearest adorn your brain and be impassable when you will listen to this man's coarse language, possibly a gift granted every two months about the same amount. so I was right when I suspected all the business of the self as being a fake I find now that Hume said that our ideas of identity is the product of a huge mistake into which we fall as soon as we perceive time and space so all my impressions of mister loneliness as one of my unchangeable objects is but a fiction of my imagination by which he takes part to my life and co-exists with me and all the shapes around and he is for me triangular squared hexagonal in his motionless consistency and sharp pyramidal presence like a modern sculpture of wood lead copper on a stone pedestal with a continuous solid presence and an identity never vacillating for ever identical to his many others all reproducible in the age of mechanical reproduction not only a mere hypothesis with no ratio no sure ground matter of fact naked or dressed from head to toe he can stand in its silence and summarize two three four concepts at once imagine how magic how gorgeous especially the principle according to which factual space is constructed on much the same ground as visual dominance and I can attribute to him tactual quality smoothness roughness hardness in my capacity of an observer but I am not sure I want to go that way there is indeed one passage in my interior text book that says never trust a shape for its appearance your impression should be one of reflection prayer and obsession therefore my first denial will be firm no easy parasitical relation between the eye the mind and from this fact I'll let the blue be blue and turn the blue in white any moment any time on a circular stage or charge my ears with electricity to annihilate all thoughts and fall asleep so my constructs fail to be such and meets a lovely moon imperfect men in dreams of dissolution. so if a boy is pretty much already a boy and a girl is pretty much already a girl at the early stage of being twenty-four hour old and if the twenty-four hour as a measure is for all of us the fair parameter for the entire life span of our existence then I can assume we are condemned at a too praecox stage to carry around bubs and balls not that I dislike such a rewarding roundness but whenever a boy or a girl in their teens start running they becomes painfully aware of the encumbering weight of their sinister glands which can grow disproportionately becoming enormous even in a sterile context as our world and bubs and balls a macrocosm of planets so we must also learn to bear in mind the value of the sphere as a fundamental shape for the being and try to fight the undervaluing attitude we cultivate in our heads crowned with wounding spikes when we are prone to think that it is much better being a stick a needle a line between two paradoxes than aiming to became similar to a whale a hugeness a kingsizeness all worries that I push up towards the top of a rocky hill as Sisiphus did with his huge stone so to embrace and hold all my troubles your troubles everybody's trouble without which I would not be the one I am suspected be a ball-fish relishing in an vicious use of its incorrect knowledge I might wake up one day sick and tired of being damned and fall into another curse within twenty-four hour between a fake awaking and a fake sleep to finally see myself as a suspended eye a roundness of perception skimming the greenness of a pool table where to meet other balls flying about other lives from hole to hole globe to globe light to light blackness to blackness joy to joy pain to pain all pretty much the same having the scary task of hitting a smaller ball to enter six small black vacuums therefore behave I say behave you rodents do not corrode the edges since in the edge is all compressed my sister the one who never saw the light whose shape is in my mind whose name is of pure emerald and who I love the unborn princess my parents' project the holy gem the rounder of all Their Holy Highness the little succulent oyster in an orange afternoon of boundlessness if only she had sat by me if she had stood in her perfected roundness if she had talked and cried made herself a despot on me this little sister I would have had deposited five hundred pounds a month on her account to cultivate a self which did not belong to me which I would have from time to time just borrowed . The head and the neck the brain the fricking mess of the mandibular nerve above the ophthalmic dumbshit cavity towards all the dry fucking sinus veins rubbing against each other in the central parts of the cunt-teaser cerebrum along with the sterno-cleido-mastoid butthead of all these mind-fucker nuchal lines in the median region of the superficial tight-assed fascia with all the annexed banana nodules the grey and white matter of the shit-ass medulla oblongata the essential royal screwing of the spinal tract of the peter-eater trigeminal nerve I hate this sister-fucker staff I don't give a damn I am so humpy I could screw such a hell-raiser lamina up to the anterior bloody wall of the third vehicle so watch your hemispheres there is some crud on your left cranial attachment on the way to the tummy-fuck simulated copulation of the thalamic terminations of your stiffy sensory pathway which almost made you loose your head come on silly one show some stones your eyes are all surrounded by star-fuckers everywhere you look and mind your faculties the movements of the mandible the tongue the larynx the sneezing and the coughing the sucking with closed lips around an object to be sucked or with lips closed if the object is in the mouth teeth closed as far as possible to support the cheeks palate depressed against posterior part of tongue to separate mouth from pharynx tongue lowered the swallowing with mouth shut respiration stopped tip of tongue elevated in front of the thing to swallow the thing to swallow moved back by elevating tongue against hard and tensed soft palate larynx raised with epiglottis tipped back by the tongue and bent down above the laryngeal orifice the thing to swallow grasped and displaced downwards with the tongue the soft palate relaxing to re-establish continuity of oral and nasal swallowing respiration restart after the due contraction of the esophagus ahhhhhhhh I enjoyed that really really really a lot Erminia Passannanti ([log in to unmask]) %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%