Monday, October 13, 2014

Snozberries, part II: Lemon Snozberries

I'm going to need a hair sample. 

Bartlebooth: a character in this book I’m reading. 
   Life: A User’s Manual.
   Coming across a reference to the book I’m reading on weekday afternoons in bed (coffee balanced on a book I love but don’t care about [Be Here Now], itself balanced on the edge of said bed. 
   Is it really Be Here Now or some second-rate Mark Leyner, like Toothprints on a Corn Dog?
   No--
   
Coming across the reference to Bartlebooth...in the book I read every time I take a shit in my bedroom’s bathroom.
   A David Markson.
   The Last Novel?      no, an earlier one
 
Coming across...how
   Coming across...
      a reference to
Bartlebooth.
   A character in the book I’m reading w/the coffee in the morning.

Markson, that old spry fuck! --he’d say something at this point to the effect of *blah blah blah*
    coffee>>>poop>>>markson

Disappointed in myself, but not because there’s a girl made of snozberries I’d like to meet who’s in my house right now, a girl from whom I’m hiding
   Markson would say
      emily dickinson style, hiding
Disappointed because I’m getting off track.
   
Reader’s Block?

This is a book about *insert addiction.*
   I feel good.
     I feel god.
I feel like ‘feeling good’ is the point of *insert.*
   either that or
         god
You know, I need to feel good>>>i’m supposed to unpack that now
         ugh

Bartlebooth being my favorite character from the coffee in bed book 
   a character who travels around the world for 20 years skillfully painting watercolors of beautiful port cities.
      Interesting on its own
Bartlebooth having been born into $$$
         having taken lessons in watercolors for 10 yrs

Bartlebooth, however
   it’s never mentioned whether he ever indulged in *insert addiction usage type word.*
     
Surely not still referring to 615 AM mass.

When Bartlebooth finishes his paintings, his manservant has them sent away to Winckler, who lives in Bartlebooth’s building & happens to be a maker of jigsaw puzzles.
   going with this wear
      going with this
   there was something to be learned about Bartlebooth in ref to my particular form of the human-addiction-phenomenon.
   I remember often a line from something. 

coffee, in essence, making you shit.
   cf. - nictoine.

Oh & 9 days, now
   i mean it means no excuses.
      i seem to be at least partially a wreck
both with & w/o *insert X.*
   Um.

   so Bartlebooth he gets 50 or so watercolor paintings turned into jigsaw puzzles
   by his buddy Winckler lives in his building

   Years after his travels Bartlebooth commences the intensely eccentric hobby of assembling jigsaw puzzles designed by Winckler, a hyper-complex puzzle-making genius puzzlemaker, as fucked up in his puzzle-making techniques as Bartlebooth in his choice of how to pass his time & burn his family’s fortune.

a lesson in Bartlebooth
   because (skipping over the fact that the puzzles are super tough)
once Bartlebooth is finished putting each puzzle together he has them reconverted into watercolor paintings again
   using a chemical resin
   filling in the puzzle cracks
   the nooks crannies whatnot
the wood backing then sliced off, whereas Winckler had only how many years ago applied the wood backing
   turned into watercolor paintings once again.
   
Partial lobotomization is the only way to peace. 
   internally
externally
   globally
floccinaucinihilipilification.

*the participle now* enough to incept in myself the delusion that I invented the phrase “fuck my life” somebody had to

9 days & going with this no wear
   The Do-Nothing No-Place.

Remember how Bartlebooth 1st paints the watercolor, then mails them to Winckler
   Winck turns em into puzzles
   B-booth solves the puzzles
     glues em back together, the cracks
watercolors again
   then, another neighbor of his
Bartlebooth’s
   runs a specially created solvent of some sort over the Whatman (whatmen?) paper
   resulting in a pristine blank white sheet.

To think of Bartlebooth’s commitment
   if i were to ever commit to something as intensely as does Bartlebooth, it would only be so ironically, absurdly, half-hollowly,
   convinced, as I’m sure Bartlebooth is/was --

Floccinaucinihilipilification.
   I’m fine with shortening the word (someday, someone, do that) but I want us all to use it more until then
   you say it 
& it means something
it describes an experience that, well, let’s see, it’s definition takes maybe less syllables to utter 
yet
it’s more fun to say it this way 
& the fun way you say it takes the sting (potential sting) out of the experience itself,
the experience the word describes
  Flocci, that is
all in favor of shortening, if need be, for preservation’s sake

is this a way novels should be written?
  this is not a novel.
or, to the point
no

convinced, along with Bartlebooth, that such a life, such a commitment, would be neither more nor less 
rewarding than any other life / slash / commitment
w/o the randomness, the purposelessly eccentric & dare I say whimsical
   at least for him
   if not for you
   certainly for me

Apropos of nothing.

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