• Vol. 02
  • Chapter 07
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I Love You With All My Brain

A year ago, my uncle almost ran over a child who rushed onto the road to retrieve his football. The motorcycle swerved, and my aunt who was riding pillion, fell off. That isn't what caused the coma. After she got up and dusted herself off, she had a sudden head rush. She fell again, hit her head, and never got up or dusted herself off ever again. It made me think about how it is the fall that one would never expect would kill them, that actually does.

Fall. There are so many ways to understand that word. Off the top of my head: the Original Sin, babies tumbling off beds, autumn, the ground dropping away from beneath a river's feet, fuck y'all, 'Let's fall in love'.

About love. Hm. Now that's a difficult one. When I crawled out of my first fall, I blamed my body for the fact that you never fell as deeply as I did. A body swollen like a helium balloon; the tighter you held on to it, the farther it took you up and away from where I waited, still falling. I never quite fell(t) the same for anyone ever again.

I study in a university now. We are the academia of the future, above all falling, helium bodies, crawling and crying. We have papers to write. Poetry makes us wet. But we still sob when we get too drunk. Students of modernity, there is so much at our disposal! Phone lines, for instance. We send silence across them each night before hanging up for good. Black wires linking heart and heart and heart, a network of veins that carry away bad blood. But Hiroshima took all heart away from the world and now it is just a network of spiderwebs, a kaleidoscope of crushed potential. Dirty blood hanging in dusty wires that tug at a non-existent heart.


I Love You With All My Brain

It is the Morbid age, don't you know? We put out hearts in paper boats and give them a little push. We watch them rush away down overflowing streets, gutters that never see the sun. We watch them rush away with relief. How much easier to substitute thought with feeling! To think,'I am in love'. Stop the thought, stop the love. We are so smart we have found a solution to suffering.

But I swear to my soggy, non-existent heart, baby. If you were to walk by even today singing,'ch'emi siqvaruli' I would blush my brains out.