objet a

by J.R.

Objet petit a is never what you say it is.

Objet petit a is that feeling you get when after hearing something that nags at you for the rest of the day, you soon suspect that that statement nagging at you is just the star dust of the dead one shooting through you.

Objet petit a is what would make you think you have fallen victim to the sisters of destiny, when in fact it is the very chance you are given to play another hand.

Objet petit a is what turned Beatrice into a shiny glistening angel and led the pilgrim through the banalities of hell.

Objet petit a is what you miss when you make a proclamation.

Objet petit a is what the doctor can only find within himself when he pulls the plug.

Objet petit a is not your jizm. It is what gives you the right not to obey.

Objet petit a is why one year from now the girl who prayed so devoutly on her knees at Church will be performing fellatio with virtuosic precision on a boy with herpes simplex B.

Objet petit a is crushed when it is given form. And if you don’t let yourself go with it, it stands outside of you, and laughs at what you understand.

Objet petit a is what inspires the curvature of your body when you plead with god.

Objet petit a is what I sought and what infected me when I called her 30 times that night and then ran across Brooklyn and knocked on her door.

Objet petit a is the 5 years you waited to prove to him you were right.

Objet petit a is the anxiety that there is no apical destination for the heternomy of your soul’s next possible address.

Objet petit a is not the cause of anastomosis or flocculation or genetic transcription, it is, however, what causes you to search for a cause and to swear under oath that you have found it.

Objet petit a is what you dream about as you arch your back and orgasm.

Objet petit a is why I sometimes cannot fight my misogyny and why I hoped that by taking it up the ass I would release myself from my desire.

Objet petit a is the only thing you should concern yourself with. And if you happen to avoid concerning yourself with it, rest assured that it is the only thing which concerns you.

Objet petit a is the cutest face in the whole wide world: Medusa’s.

Objet petit a is that which you feel you are missing when depression sets in; in other words, depression is when you are certain that objet petit a has abandoned you, and this feeling is drawn from that which you fear is missing, objet petit a. Therefore it would seem conclusive, since the depressed are those who have no hope for the day ahead, that the objet petit a is what you reach out towards when you fall asleep and wake up, that which is beneath the desire to lay down and rise up.

Objet petit a is not what makes you cough nor snore nor bleed; it is that intermittent seizure of thought: “Am I not the same, when will I become the same again.”

Objet petit a is the iridescence you see in her smile, perhaps you see it behind the pupils, perhaps in the dimple above her upper lip, or in the strain raising your cheeks that has spread from the strain raising hers, and objet petit a is what she feels when she smiles, when she sees you smiling back.

Objet petit a is the desire to swallow.

Objet petit a is the desire to ingest, swell, squeeze, push, and empty—then hold.

Objet petit a is what you think will happen to you when you turn on the Television.

Objet petit a is the genus under which the species Fetish Object has been revealed. Marx neglected though to see that the objet petit a was there when he diagnosed all surplus value as capitalistic, as if the objet petit a is not the source of economy itself.

Objet petit a is what turns you against someone, so much so that you fantasize their death by your own hands.

Objet petit a is what distracts you so you leave a word missing or a note off at the end of a melody.

Objet petit a can trick you into thinking you are in control of yourself and focused.

Objet petit a is how friends can forgive each other without the burden of guilt.

Objet petit a is the struggle to remain certain that your cruelty was guided by the hands of justice.

Objet petit a obscures the truth of those who believe that experience is divine, it also obscures the truth of those who think they are what they are. Incidentally, it is also the source of God and the Ego.

Objet petit a is the thought so many leave behind.

Objet petit a disappears into every object, and it is also why it disappears into every object, for objet petit a persists by way of its own disappearance.

Objet petit a is what pushes you on to the next word and the next sentence, it is not what sews the meaning together, but that rush you get, maybe it is quite small, that rush of joy, when for a moment you understand.

Objet petit a is what Lacan accredits Freud with presenting to the first psychoanalytic patient Anna O.—his genius as Lacan sees it was his durability, his refusal to ever interpret his patient’s desire as himself—he always watched it trail in and out of him.

Objet petit a gave the lie to our diamond rings, and then it continued to shine, until it dulled our jewelry and our kisses and our ecstasy.