"I want to create art in which even I, as the artist, can die and become something else in the midst of my obscene adornment." Lucas de Lima, "The Inhuman Art of Dying vs. Poetry's Grief Police" on Montevidayo (the hybrid freak that I am would love to see this entertwined somehow in the originary project of circling grief). See also: Chris Higgs' lovely post on the subject (I have really been loving his recent notebook pieces).
"And I am telling you that if you are fighting I love you, if you are standing up I love you, if you are refusing to back down I love you, and we will find each other, we will. I promise. I can't tell you how to make sense of it but I can tell you there are more of us than you think. What I am saying, really, is that I want you to be angry, all of you, I want you to be angrier than you have ever been in your lives, I want you to be a fucking beacon of white-hot rage burning so bright no one around you can miss it. Whatever it takes to stoke the fire. I want us to be so loud and so angry and so visible and so terrifying that we cannot be mistaken for anything other than the future, a future that looks like us." - hope it's okay The Rejectionist if I more than fair-used you, in your brilliant, simmering post on rage. Why should I even try to write an essay about this? When The Rejectionist always delivers so raw and righteous and enraged? That gives me so freedom, somehow - to not try to hit that note, that perfect rant - why when it has already been hit?