What is vitriol anyhow?
I’ll look it up later. Why am I so angry now? I had so much happiness in Sweden, too, and some moments of divine madness that I will never trade away. I would be a slave for memory, if I could. But my world is dry, cold, and odorless. I can’t live in the past, only in present dreams. And words of course. Sharpness or bitterness of feeling. I love words and I hate them. Savage criticism or invective. It makes me laugh to think of words as savage. Is their power real or imagined? But I can’t distinguish imagination from reality. I discovered that long ago. Are words a substitute for a deficient sensuality? Art supersedes life. I smile and vomit, like a dog. Oil of vitriol: sulfuric acid, concentrated. Dense, oily, colorless, corrosive. Very useful in the chemical industry, for manufacturing fertilizers, explosives, detergents, paints and dyes. I am full of this acid. I see the factories and the machines we’ve made and I burn inside with anger. Our power is matched only by our stupid gree
