IO TI VEDO, MICHEL HOUELLEBECQ

 [STOLEN MSG FROM TWITTER]

Having coffee and a cigarette, about to smear my ejaculate on a Real Doll. 1:07 PM Mar 9th, 2009 from web

Licking my Real Doll. 1:25 PM Mar 9th, 2009 from web

Watching waves crash below this Andalucian cliff, wondering if an Arab could make me cum. 1:43 PM Mar 9th, 2009 from weB

Out of straws again. 1:59 PM Mar 9th, 2009 from web

Refreshing 4chan.

To what do I owe this arid taste?

Fell asleep at my desk. Considering a liquid lunch.

Bored. Taking another xanax.

Watching another facial compilation, wishing I could believe their smiles.

This carpet has to go.

Dropped my glass. Left it there. Went on littering about the house. 5:25 PM Mar 9th, 2009 from web

This interviewer has a perfect little nose. I want her to swallow my ejaculate.

Taking Clement for a walk.

Showered instead. Clement urinated all over my Oui backissues.

@sashagrey Would you consider cloning yourself?

Just vomited on myself while reposed like I was exhaling. It drips from my chin to my chest.

Most annoyed. Hadn’t wanted to rise yet. Will lie here until desire strikes.

Having a double espresso, watching the Matrix: Revolutions DVD menu loop over and over.

Bought some self-tanning creme at the drugstore.

@stoya How would you like to be in my erotic film?

Going down to the beach with Clement and a pack of Silk Cuts. 2:59 PM Mar 10th, 2009 from web

Should’ve brought an anorak. Maybe a revolver. Waterproof materials bring me joy.

Waiting for @romanpolanski to sign into gchat.

Had a disappointing handful of Xanax for lunch yesterday. Was hoping to wake on Thursday.

Masturbating to irrumatio clips.

Bourbon and ‘Trill’ on repeat.

Writing a fan letter to @roccosiffredi.

Might eat something today. A Powerbar? 3:58 PM Mar 12th, 2009 from web

Watching Clement clean up my ejaculate. 4:30 PM Mar 12th, 2009 from web

Down at the beach with Clement, teaching him a new trick: ignore frisbee, attack frisbee tosser.

Shopping for toothpaste. I am an efficient consumer.

Deleting all non-anal erotic films from my hard drive.

Dressing my Real Doll like a civil servant.

Ignoring calls from my agent. For the lulz.

Chewing Xanax, watching an infomercial on mute

Standing by the seaward glass as Clement, outside, barks at clouds spilling up over our cliff.

Six waking hours have been too many. Will now bourbon and television myself back to sleep.

Lying here in the grass, smoking Silk Cuts.

Clement snorts: no, he would not like a Silk Cut. Plus pour moi.

The smell of a bottlenose rotting on the rocks below is drawing Clement too close to the cliff’s edge. Today I will try to enter a coma.

Sleeping in khakis and an anorak, dreaming up mealplans for my Real Doll.

The agent asks: ‘Would you like to endorse an abortifacient?’ Thinking it over.

Forcefeeding the Real Doll. Also named her Marie. I say: Eat, Marie.

Woke on the beach as seawater soaked my back – felt leaden walking back up. Clement whines: Milkbone, s’il vous plait?

Sex and suffering? Sex is suffering.

A proton pump inhibitor for breakfast. Then Xanax and maybe some diazepam. Espresso when I get around to it.

FELLOW passenger on the Thailand return flight asks why I never visit Australia. This is not a question for anyone who’s met an Australian. 3:08 PM Jun 1st, 2009 from web

Waiting for @larsvontrier to finish with Marie. It’s the first time I’ve seen someone cover a Real Doll’s face. 4:51 PM May 21st, 2009 from web

The window washer asks: Why always the same mess? In the same spot? When I tell him he coughs and is quiet. 6:30 PM May 19th, 2009 from web

Sleeping one off on the carpet. The maid vacuums around me. 6:28 PM May 15th, 2009 from web

Other members of this orphan family who did not call their mothers yesterday: Marie, Clement. 7:38 PM May 11th, 2009 from web

Bourbon and diazepam. TV on static. 8:24 PM May 8th, 2009 from web

Clement drags a large piece of driftwood toward me at a gallop, the lighter end in his mouth, his torso diagonal like a wayward fire truck. 8:09 PM May 7th, 2009 from web

At the beach, running low on Silk Cuts. 7:58 PM May 7th, 2009 from web

Watching ‘Gossip Girl’ with Marie. ‘Gossip Girl’ is Marie’s favorite. 2:54 AM May 5th, 2009 from web

Clement! I wake for you. 6:00 PM May 4th, 2009 from web

Writing a fan letter to the ‘Survivor’ contestant known as Coach. 5:06 PM May 1st, 2009 from web

I welcome the new disease. Take us, minutiae. 6:22 PM Apr 29th, 2009 from web

@babygirlparis You are perfect, an absolute. The West will cap when human progress is complete, when you are made eternal. 5:26 PM Apr 22nd, 2009 from web

Clapping for Clement: Milkbone wishes! Fried steak dreams! He barks and leaps at my hands. 2:26 AM Apr 22nd, 2009 from web

Met this university student in a nightclub, half-slept through a boring blowjob. 7:35 PM Apr 20th, 2009 from web

Would like a programmable voicebox for Marie. Also vomit mechanism. 9:40 PM Apr 19th, 2009 from web

My ejaculate smells like ammonia. Must’ve drank last night. 6:57 PM Apr 18th, 2009 from web

Radio is best when distant/just audible, as if in the far corner of a warehouse, a closed room at the end of a hall, a rooftop blocks away. 6:54 PM Apr 18th, 2009 from web

@oprah Welcome. The answers to all your questions can be found on /b/. 5:40 PM Apr 17th, 2009 from web

Cruising pro-mia messageboards. 5:26 PM Apr 16th, 2009 from web

Clement flattens face-down as if flying. Legs straight back, arms reaching ahead. He is ready for: covert military crawls, waterslides, nap. 2:49 AM Apr 16th, 2009 from web

Frying a steak for Marie. I say, ‘Marie, you’re a meat-eater.’ 11:59 PM Apr 14th, 2009 from web

I feel like I’ve recovered a bundle of old bank statements. 5:31 PM Apr 10th, 2009 from web

All my status updates are gone. I’m afraid of their return. 6:45 PM Apr 8th, 2009 from web

Listening to another voicemail from Iggy. 4:05 PM Apr 8th, 2009 from web

Mixing sedatives. About to go for a swim. 10:08 PM Apr 6th, 2009 from web

About to shave my genitals. 5:27 PM Apr 5th, 2009 from web

Windy days are best until I must light a Silk Cut.

Un pensiero su “IO TI VEDO, MICHEL HOUELLEBECQ

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