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I ride. I do not explain. I do not excuse. I do not classify. I go fast.
Édouard Levé
I got up and saw, as in a cartoon, circles of birthday candles turning in the air and then I fainted. I have not made love to the wife of a friend. I do not love the sound of a family on the train. I am uneasy in rooms with small windows. Sometimes I realize that what I’m in the middle of saying is boring, so I just stop talking. Art that unfolds over time gives me less pleasure than art that stops it.
Édouard Levé
it could be doctor (formal inspection of genitals), or thug and bourgeoise (mini-rape scene), when we played thug and bourgeoise my cousin would walk past the swing set where I’d be sitting, outside our family’s house, I would call out to her in a menacing tone of voice, she wouldn’t answer but would act afraid, she would start to run away, I would catch her and drag her into the little pool house, I would bolt the door, I’d pull the curtains, she would try vaguely to get away, I would undress her and simulate the sexual act while she cried out in either horror or pleasure, I could never tell which it was supposed to be, I forget how it used to end.
Édouard Levé
I have a foggy sense of history, and of stories in general: chronology bores me. I do not suffer from the absence of those I love. I prefer desire to pleasure. My death will change nothing.
Édouard Levé
The date on my birth certificate is wrong. I am not sure I have any influence. I talk to my things when they’re sad. I do not know why I write.
Édouard Levé
graffiti in Morgan Ave. station
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