i’m on the way to aachen cause we’re having a sort of x-mas party at thomas’s today. sitting on the train, listening to koyaanisqatsi. to spend the time usefully i get out my copy of two regimes of madness and start reading deleuze on drugs.
“With drugs there is something very unique where desire *directly invests the system of perception* [...] Hence the role of perception, the solicitation of perception in contemporary social systems, which led Phil Glass to say that drugs have in any case changed the problem of perception, even for non-users.” (152)
and i wasn’t even much surprised.
a more depressing afternoon you cannot imagine : it’s cold and foggy and silent. everything’s muted and still. the train passes dirty backyards of small villages, windows barred with wooden beams, fences torn down, fake plastic santa clauses climbing up balconies.
later :
back home. i’m not drunk enough. i’m not drunk enough. i’m too sober. i’m not drunk enough. did the most stupid thing! i knew, even before i did it, that it was such a stupid and bad idea. at one point during the evening i was at the bathroom in thomas’s house and washing my hands i looked up and in the mirror i saw a collection of perfume bottles on a board behind me. i recognized one bottle immediately : it was by jean paul gaultier, the perfume s. used.
as i said : i knew beforehand that it was a bad idea. but against better judgment i took the bottle and pressed down the vaporizer and a hundredthousand molecules of memory filled the air and floated slowly onto my shirt and my skin and she was standing behind me and her presence was so intense that i had to hold on to the basin because my knees started to give in. the scent is still on my clothes, as if i had just returned from her and it feels as if the past two years hadn’t happened at all. fuck. fuck. fuck. i knew it was a stupid idea. i’m not drunk enough
