Gregg Bordowitz

I would prefer not to. Bartleby the Scrivener

Each one as she may. Gertrude Stein

Drop by drop into one’s mouth the taste of piss pleases. Not a full stream rather the redolent kiss off one’s genitals. Urine is waste subtracted from one’s body. It is what is not needed and yet it always comes out of necessity. One needs to pee often painfully as a matter of release. So the pleasure in peeing can be felt as a submission to what one cannot help but do. Not water, not spit, not sweat, not cum, not blood, not beer, not asparagus and somehow in part all of these. If not one, then the other, or neither. Every drop is always itself, its opposite and something else.

One simply wants to serve, to give over to desire, to completely dissolve satisfaction into delirium. One is totally responsible for one’s pleasure and ultimately one is dependent on pleasure as the principal feature defining one’s relation to others. One enjoys others when it pleases or not.

A big sticky object, one can potentially adhere to anything. Dangerous to stick to anything and everything, yet one gets stuck. Avoid attachment if one can and one will always succumb.

One has a list of preferences. Each is a gift but no one comes from the same one and each is intended for another:

One prefers the life lived well over the life lived freely.

Apart from the constraints of birth and death, about which one has no choice, there do exist choices. Choose what one may. Consequences will certainly follow.

One prefers the ongoing labor of creativity over the completed work of creation.

Whatever can be completed disintegrates.
Whatever appears done is not.

One prefers knowledge over information.

To know is to care.

One prefers care over love.

Each one kills the thing one loves. (apologies to Oscar Wilde)

One prefers pleasure over procreation.

Enjoyment is the goal. All progeny are accidents.

One prefers passion over responsibility.

Sensations are both the causes and the effects of one’s passions. Responsibility serves passion even when it does not intend to serve it.

One prefers the fierce attachment over the security of marriage.

Attachments can last where marriages do not.

One prefers the vitality of bodies over the health of nations.

When one is ill one has a kinship with the diseased wherever they fall.

One is like so many that one is not one, never one, always one of a number. One is one of many but not the same as any other, never the same, not exactly. One is peculiar, both one thing and another, here and there, real and imaginary. Certainly one terminates. Every one has an end. One falls everywhere resting anywhere but one never keeps the same in the same place like the others. One simply does not have a choice. Rising one falls and collects. Dropping to gather, one changes, and one evaporates, and each one is constrained by the same gravity as any other.