Kathy Acker – Great Expectations
My mother is a dummy and a piece of jellyfish. The most disgusting thing in this world is her. My worst nightmare is that I’ll have some of that jellyfish in me.
My mother, the jellyfish, wants me to be just like I am.
So I fall down in a fit. I decide to be totally catatonic. I am unable to know anything. I have no human contacts. I’m not able to understand language.
They call me CRAZY. But I’m not inhuman. I still have burning sexual desires. I still have a cock. I just don’t believe there’s any possibility of me communicating to someone in this world.
I hate humans who want me to act like I can communicate to them. I hate feeling more pain because I’ve felt so much pain.
My idea of happiness is numbness.
From what I’ve seen and read I think the people who live in Egypt don’t absolutely hate their lives.
I feel I feel I feel I have no language, any emotion for me is a prison
I think talking to humans, acting in this world, and hurting other humans are magical acts. I fell in love with the humans who I see do these things
I think these categories: this logic way of talking (perceiving) is wrong.
THERE’S NO SUCH THING AS POWER AND POWERLESSNESS. For instance, I, Peter, am totally passive or powerless. I live in a world in which one major power, the USA, is trying to artificially create a war with another great power to increase its military budget. All rich businessmen get richer while wars are always fought on top of the bodies of poor people. We are really really powerless.
Anything mental is real.
I think your new girlfriend stinks. She is a liar all the way around because her skin is yellow from jaundice, not from being Chinese like she pretends. She’s only pretty because she’s wearing a mask. You’re hooked on her tight little cunt: it’s only a sexual attraction I know you’re very attracted to sex cause when you were young you were fat and no girl wanted to fuck you. What you don’t know is that this cunt contains lots of poisons—not just jaundice—a thousand times more powerful than the coke she is feeding you to keep you with her—especially one lethal poison developed by the notorious Fu Manchu that takes cocks, turns their upper halves purple, their lower parts bright red, the eyes go blind so they can no longer see what’s happening, the person dies. Your new girlfriend is insane and she’s poisoning you.
P.S. I’m only telling you this for your own good.
I want you wet. I want you dripping all over me. I want you just for sex. Once I know I can have you I might ignore you I know that would be very stupid. Then you’d run away as fast as you could. Then I’d want you so much I’d figure more subtle ways to commit suicide than all the ways—like lobotomy, everyone in my family goes, I robot flesh made of—I have these past two years you left me. Ours is the hottest love affair that has ever existed and I’m telling everyone that it is so. Physical sex doesn’t have to have anything to do with love affairs. Love affairs are when each person can do anything they want and the other person realizes that the most unbelievable behavior possible is usual.
The Gritty State Of Things To Come
This serves you right. I told you this was going to happen. Now that I’ve spent last night fucking you, I’m in love with you. I’m writing these few lines to give you the news and the news isn’t good. A few minutes ago the cops arrested me for stealing a copy of SEMIOTEXT(e). You keep talking about how you’re making Italian terrorism fashionable: isn’t my ass here in New York worth at least a penny to you for every dollar of Italian terrorist ass over there? I think you should be nice to me because I’m just a helpless little girl. Also please try to get permission to come to see me and bring me some underwear. Put in your cat because I need affection and you don’t need anything. How are you? Darling, I’m awfully sorry about what’s happening to me. Let’s face it: some kids are born with silver spoons in their mouths. I’m an old woman whose teeth are falling out. I’m counting on you to help me out. I wish I could run into your chest and climb on your arms three hours a week and no more. Remember what we do together when I’m unparanoid enough to see you. Remember what we do together when I’m unparanoid enough to see you. Try to recognize the only reality of the world: no one gives a shit about anything. Get on your knees, sweetheart, and kiss the earth.