David Wojnarowicz


    FROM MARCH 1981 THROUGH JUNE 1989, David Wojnarowicz kept an intermittent audio journal, speaking directly into a tape recorder about his days and dreams. Last April, the sound artist Derek Baron released David Wojnarowicz: Cross Country Tape Journals, a three-disc LP reproducing tapes from Wojnarowicz’s road trips, and in July, Semiotext(e) will publish transcriptions of all the recordings in a volume titled Weight of the Earth, edited by Lisa Darms and David O’Neill. Below are excerpts from the journal’s final year.

    Late February 1989

    IT FEELS SOMETHING LIKE a murderer in the house. Like waking


    SOMETIMES I COME TO hate people because they can’t see where I am. I’ve gone empty, completely empty and all they see is the visual form; my arms and legs, my face, my height and posture, the sounds that come from my throat. But I’m fucking empty. The person I was just one year ago no longer exists; drifts spinning slowly into the ether somewhere way back there. I’m a xerox of my former self. I can’t abstract my own dying any longer. I am a stranger to others and to myself and I refuse to pretend that I am familiar or that I have history attached to my heels. I am glass, clear empty glass. I