In the mid-90s I simply could not finish a piece of writing unless faced with the threat (& deadline) of public performance. Or Utterance. Thus:
"...One day Alana noticed the sound of a stylus excising through the soft wax of her flesh. She laughed and flung herself backward into the mine shaft of her spine, down to the light anchored at the bottom of her eyes. There she found a vast, cuneiform sea, which her own bones had been inscribing and effacing upon the shores of her skin. Riding one of the more propitious waves back up to her face, she discovered that this autographic ocean could be exhaled like a perfume." - Alana Keres "Mythogenesis"
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