Spark (Round 2)
scent of the day: Kendo III, by Yaaseen
Sweet Booze again here too, like with Bilal. But more eucalyptus mint vibes. Still need more time with it.
Spark
999625 might have waived off the warden's macabre Marlboro had he still thought pity-exacting self-mutilation stood a chance to save him from the Tejano chair.
But as early as central booking, under the coarse-wool blanket, unequivocal as the clock it was that each cogwheel (inkpad tech, guard, wellness checker too)—
however many years away still from the casehardened “Heard it all before, buddy"—could at best merely reverse empathy’s vector: “Just doin' my damn job, man."
“We need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us.”—Kafka (against the safe-space cancel culture pushed by anti-art bullies, left and right)
