hi how are you good how are you good. here’s a stream-of-consciousness compilation of thoughts and tiny pieces of almost-poems strung together with loving recklessness. sort of like rave kandi. or a kebab. or a popcorn garland. whatever! i like making these mosaics, forcing fragments to fit together. a note on wabi-sabi: don’t think about it too long.
i hope the rest of your day is beautiful and easy.
i feel there are many things i should get, even if i don’t ask for them. i feel there are many things i should ask for, even if i don’t get them.
i didn’t know there was a bell tower within 50 square miles but today on the hour i heard it crouched like an animal on my bed, typing into spotify the name of a dj whom someone beautiful on instagram said made good dnb. and by that i mean drum and bass. do i have to spell out drum and bass?
i hit the bong in an attempt to cure my as of yet undiagnosed disease that had me throwing up all morning out of nowhere. i’m not pregnant. i didn’t google it but assume it’ll probably kill me, if not something similarly stupid should finish me off sooner or later. hopefully later. i ate a peanut butter cup and kept it down and there’s another left in the pack: the joy of scanning the program to find more pleasure than predicted.
i don’t have to tell you but i’m restless and in love. when i close my eyes i’m caught in a revolving door, and the other three slivers are occupied, too. trapped in motion, all the days blend together like their snow storms; i guess with enough dots you have yourself a line.
i have a sweet tooth lately that nothing can satisfy, not even sunset or your hand on my thigh. i was born with this longing lodged in my guts, and like a thorn or a splinter it hurts worse when you yank on it. leaving somewhere, leaving something is a craft i’ve honed, though usually it’s just my jacket or phone.
i had no boxspring for months when i moved here, just a naked bronze bed frame and a mattress against the wall. even with my desk in the corner by the window the room felt cold and stark and unwelcoming, a liminal space like CVS after dark. i don’t want to live in a lobby or a waiting room, biding time on my phone until my name is finally called. bare iron is to brain like love is to fear. there’s something about fluorescence that makes death feel near.
i got home sunburnt from miami and there was snow on the ground, but nowhere warm to lie down and remember you. when i touched your sweaty hair i got the sea under my nails, felt a current in my hands like a wave sweeping me out. in my new bed i think of every brief moment like this, never knowing what’s mine to keep and making home out of it anyway.
obsession of the week
this heart-shattering masterpiece of an album by searows. for gloomy mornings, introspective flower-smelling walks, and candlelit evenings. my favorite track is “keep the rain.”
Love this, love you!