Aritha van Herk
Cut and Run “The aim of the wise is not to secure pleasure, but to avoid pain.” —Aristotle Hurt. Not a locker, for storage or otherwise, keyless and flat-faced, intent on its own secrecy, smug safety deposit boxes holding their midriffs tight, railway stations and gyms hosting that temporary keeping, custodial duty over backpacks and sneakers. Tautology of locker: equipped with a lock. Hurt strains against confinement, swells like sponge in water, soaking up the moisture of affliction, its aggravation. Not unexpected or surprising, but still a shock, the surprise of flagrante, the mirum of damage. Pleasure nurtures the same voluptuous prodigality, but without the ornament of harm. Almost nothing of Epicurus survives, a few fragments, misinterpretations of his subtle distillations. He The Anti-Languorous Project | 95
