The Hunger

This body is empty of food. Food is a thing that you take inside so that the body keeps moving and talking and going and eating and shitting and loving and naming. Food was a thing inside animals and plants and to make it into food you had to make the inside the outside and then take the outside and make it the inside of a new body. Then food was in the body but the body was not food—but now food is not inside animals and plants but only inside name-things. But take the food outside of name-things and they are no longer name-things but body-things—maybe the food inside the name-things is the name. Maybe names are the thing behind the eyes and under the hair and above the teeth and are the only thing that this body can take inside itself. Maybe this body is an eater of names, is hungry for names, is opening up other bodies in order to find names, to take names, to take into itself a name, to take a name that is not its name, that is not a name.

But this body has eaten many names—names now no longer in memory because they no longer belong to name-things—and yet this body has no name, had no name. Had no name? Has no name.


The thing that said I

Once something was I, was something that made the word that is I. I. I. I. Now words come—and go—and this word I. This letter I. Word letter I, which the thing that this body used to be used to say. Not like A in ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ . . . not like those marks which they call letters that fit together to make things, whole things, word things. Like a thing of its own. Not like the things that used to attach to this body-thing but not now. Like its own thing and only its own thing when it was not in ABCDEFGHIFKLMOPQRSTUVWXYZ. This thing that writes these letters was once the letter that did not need other letters. It was I, but it was also letters together, always the same way. It was a name-thing. What the name-thing was this body does not know anymore. This body is a body-thing. But not all bodies are body-things. Some bodies can still say I. They look at one another and they say I and this body cannot say I. If this body-thing could be a wanting-thing it would want to say I like it said when it was a name-thing. And these name-things that can say I when this body-thing cannot say I must not be—it is better that there be no name-things if this body-thing cannot be anymore a name-thing. If this body-thing cannot say I then nothing else can . .  .