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Sunday, 19 February 2012

Aad de Gids-

early in the morning an elemental cold,resonating somehow in the bones
those remnants of trees in weakbodied cognescent animals,travelling thru
wintery lanes,an unbelievable cold attached itself on these weak skins,not
any longer apparently adjusted to cold so intense and ripping on the folds
and palates,temples and templates of facial mass and vegetal besotted
dreams,this cold temporarily catatonizing soul endeavours and harsh metal
when hold in an elevator,also surprisingly archaically polar,threatening to
freeze fingers and what had to be one of the mundanest of things,sudden
threat of disorder,disorderly cold europe,mirroring or unequally contrasting
with northern america,the cold of death and anciennity,glacial shifting and
unpersonal windshear,plains with exposed stretches of grass,relentlessly
laid open to the planetary frostpossibilities,the unemotional syrupt hatred of
natures' cathedral,just out of a cyclicity of contingency and erratic haunting
moods as they also dwell outside of the antropocene,the rage of ants,the
subsoil wars of plants,pheromonous density of desertnights,absence of
sun and the chilling visus of the snowmoon,particularizing sleep of the hordes
into corpuscules of night,audible silence and visible blackness,the probing
scent of salt from an inlet nearby,answering the tides,the surf,solitudinous


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