---
title: Notes
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How do I explain such a page of notes? How do I tell you, beloved readers, that, the more I write, the more feverish my pace, the greater the pull of my graphomania upon my wrist, the more words flow through me *period?* Words that are my own. Words that are nonsense. Words that are, yes, the words of others. It yanks and tugs on my wrist, its other hand — paw? — lingering so sweetly on my neck, drawing lazy fingers across as though to bleed me dry of ink, and from out of me spills my words and also the words that have ever made me what I am.

Here, then, are the references as I remember them. I will apologize no further.

<hr id="part-7"/>

#### \[...\] *perhaps columbines perhaps nasturtiums* \[...\]

The Musician shared with me a letter and My Friend several journal entries, but, ah--! If I share them here, I will fall once more to crying. You may find them in their entirety in *Marsh*, a work written by a braver me.

I will say, however, that that letter surrounded nasturtiums and was written the night Muse quit, and those diary entries were written by My Friend, a recounting of Beckoning's memories, to comfort The Musician in her grief.

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#### (words of prayer quoted directly)

From Psalm 13:2--4:

> How long, *Adonai*, will You forget me always?\
> How long hide Your face from me?\
> How long shall I cast about for counsel,\
> sorrow in my heart all day?\
> How long will my enemy loom over me?\
> Regard, answer me, *HaShem*, my God.\
> Light up my eyes, lest I sleep death.

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#### (words from Qoheleth quoted directly)

From Qohelet (Ecclesiastes) 1:17:

> And I set my heart to know wisdom and to know revelry and folly, for this, too, is a herding of the wind.

From Qohelet 2:22:

> What gain is there for man in all his toil that he toils under the sun?

From Qohelet 3:20:

> Everything was from the dust, and everything goes back to the dust.

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#### *The blood of deer ripped to shreds by wolves!*

Cf. Czesław Miłosz:

> wystarczy pozwolić człowiekowi\
> wytruć swój rodzaj\
> a nastąpią niewinne wschody słońca\
> nad florą i fauną wyzwoloną
>
> na pofabrycznych pustkowiach\
> wyrosną dębowe lasy\
> krew rozszarpanego przez wilki jelenia\
> nie będzie przez nikogo widziana\
> jastrząb będzie spadać na zająca\
> bez świadków
>
> zniknie ze świata zło\
> kiedy zniknie świadomość
>
> -----
>
> Simply let mankind\
> extinguish itself\
> And then innocent sunrises will illuminate\
> liberated flora and fauna
> 
> Oak forests will grow\
> on postindustrial wastelands\
> The blood of a deer ripped apart by wolves\
> will not be seen by anyone\
> A hawk will fall, unwitnessed,\
> upon a rabbit
> 
> Evil will disappear from the world\
> once consciousness does