Matthew Conrad

May 15, 1986 - Ostrowiec Świętokrzyski

3 italian beers

why of course i'm still not comfortable writing -
i'm reaching the conclusion of
Knausgård's vol 2 and...
if it's really true...
well... how could i somehow succumb
to reading the remaining four volumes...
if the comparison stands with:
the Proust of our times...
well... i do have a 3 vol edition of
(À) la recherche du temps perdu...
and thankful it's not in english...
it's in polish... as is this volume of Knausgård...
why would i somehow manage
to write anything: convincing if i'm about
to undertake the antithesis of what
i kept dear for so long...
Joyce Pound... Bukowski?
beside the point...
i've finally managed to sample an italian
beer on these 'ere, mellow, british isles
other than nastro azzurro: peroni...
or: qualita e tradizione - birra moretti...
oh yes... if you look in the right places
you can find a co-op exclusive...
fondata nel 1848 - MENABREA birra blonda...
and by far the best italian beer i've had...
you can simply tire of english ales...
you need those bubbles...
and yes the german and yes the belgian
(two)
and the dutch beers (one)...
and yes the spanish beers (one)...
but... something different...
(i.e. no. of brands)...
down the alternative rabbit-hole...
if i left off Joyce and Beckett some years ago...
i was teasing my way toward Proust...
all the homosexual writers i could come across...
notably W. Burroughs...
Jean-Genet i'll get to... first i need an...
up-lifting "confrontation"...
i need to peer via the anus into the mouth
and see the dancing god-tongue of
the immortal dodo prance naked from
a homoerotic perspective...
i need to dilute these hetrosexual behemoths
of observation... stern scandinavian
notions of: when and where alcohol is acceptable...
high morality and all that... jazz...
the years 20 - 30 are lost for me...
probably to be found somewhere among
books... as i honestly own a library that i don't
need to own... since i've read most of it...
i can be excused from owning a book by
Cicero and Seneca... i tried reading Seneca:
but since the book has an addressee in the title:
epistulae morales ad Lucilium...
anyone has the right to feel like a persona
non grata with any respect to that book...
but hey! it's been kept all these years...
but no one reading it... will somehow bind
himself to the psychotic thought of being
the: reincarnation of Lucilius.
my writing will suffer because of this -
this? proving "them" right...
that Knausgård is the modern Proust...
"my writing" and "suffer"... ha ha... ah ha...
there's just this sudden urge...
to enter the "special club" of people who had
read Proust... and... "survived"...
no one mentions a "specialist survival club
anti-thesis: mountain-climbing" in relation to Joyce...
or Kant...
so there... there must be something:
really really... spezial about Proust...
beer and the night and reading...
i hoped for something akin to last night in how:
it concluded... it reminded me of Poland...
the dogs were barking into the night...
and the crows were... croaking in the night...
while in the back of my mind:
england... this bitch-surrogate of a mother...
25 years... and...
after 25 years people accomplish "things"...
while i have a daily routine that begins and ends
with... well £5,180 is a dear sum of money:
for an assissted death...
this has to be noted as a: malaise of humour...
these days almost prescribe
a sense of: being ill from humour...
since evidently one is always going to be wrong
about it: given the current times
of politics and power having to eat up
that one care-free environment away from
the exasperated poets of seriousness...
how almost very profound...
but i'll require the homoerotic version
of what is currently the end of Knausgård
vol 2.................................................................
16 Total read