Aaron Kunin, p.5
WHAT MUSIC!
Here is what he seems to say: “Dear brother,
there has been a change. Remember the money
I left with you, so that you would have something
to start a business? I now require it
for another purpose. The purpose is
music”—he seems to like music more than
money—“You don’t know a thing about music,
what it can do to the body, the mind,
and so on. You don’t know what it means
to desire music. You don’t know how it
can mess with you down there. Your dick in my ass,
music, and I don’t like it, but I desire it.
Your dick in my throat, and talking is difficult.
Your dick in my throat, oh collusion, and
it’s not what I desire, but it will keep
me hard. I throat your hard-on, seigneur, and
it’s horrible to me, but nothing can
keep me away from it. You shit on me,
music, and at last my pleasure and shame
are complete, and I don’t wish to have it
end. At last I’m sore down there, and I must
have it again. Change money for music,
brother. I don’t know who she is”—music
is a she?—“or where she’s from”—but she seems
to have a dick?—“and if I say ‘what’s your
age’ or anything like that, she always
seems to start weeping. I don’t like seeing
music weep. Her voice sounded like music
or loud sobbing. And yet it has beauty—
when I hear it, the voice that she has
has such beauty, I can no longer
remember anything else. And yet
there is shame in it”—yes, there is shame—
“or there may be a kind of shame in my
impossible desire for the money.
May I have it?” What do you say to that?
—I say nothing. I have nothing to say.
Remember my age: and yet I know nothing
about myself: so what can I know about
another? Think about it: what do I
desire if not to do good? If not the
good?… But I wonder, what good is it to
do what I do? What good is it to have
a body? To have a voice if nobody
can hear it? To have a mind that only
seems to doubt all that it would like to think?
To have a soul without knowing God? And
to have eyes? My eyes are bad, they are “good
for weeping but not for seeing,” and eyes
not good for seeing are good for nothing.
But what good is seeing, what is seeing
for? Seeing is just another way of
concealing what is there. The purpose of
the eyes, the purpose of the body, is
to keep the mind from knowing anything.
Here is what he seems to say: “Dear brother,
there has been a change. Remember the money
I left with you, so that you would have something
to start a business? I now require it
for another purpose. The purpose is
music”—he seems to like music more than
money—“You don’t know a thing about music,
what it can do to the body, the mind,
and so on. You don’t know what it means
to desire music. You don’t know how it
can mess with you down there. Your dick in my ass,
music, and I don’t like it, but I desire it.
Your dick in my throat, and talking is difficult.
Your dick in my throat, oh collusion, and
it’s not what I desire, but it will keep
me hard. I throat your hard-on, seigneur, and
it’s horrible to me, but nothing can
keep me away from it. You shit on me,
music, and at last my pleasure and shame
are complete, and I don’t wish to have it
end. At last I’m sore down there, and I must
have it again. Change money for music,
brother. I don’t know who she is”—music
is a she?—“or where she’s from”—but she seems
to have a dick?—“and if I say ‘what’s your
age’ or anything like that, she always
seems to start weeping. I don’t like seeing
music weep. Her voice sounded like music
or loud sobbing. And yet it has beauty—
when I hear it, the voice that she has
has such beauty, I can no longer
remember anything else. And yet
there is shame in it”—yes, there is shame—
“or there may be a kind of shame in my
impossible desire for the money.
May I have it?” What do you say to that?
—I say nothing. I have nothing to say.
Remember my age: and yet I know nothing
about myself: so what can I know about
another? Think about it: what do I
desire if not to do good? If not the
good?… But I wonder, what good is it to
do what I do? What good is it to have
a body? To have a voice if nobody
can hear it? To have a mind that only
seems to doubt all that it would like to think?
To have a soul without knowing God? And
to have eyes? My eyes are bad, they are “good
for weeping but not for seeing,” and eyes
not good for seeing are good for nothing.
But what good is seeing, what is seeing
for? Seeing is just another way of
concealing what is there. The purpose of
the eyes, the purpose of the body, is
to keep the mind from knowing anything.