I made this, I have forgotten And remember.The rigging weak and the canvas rottenBetween one June and another September.Made this unknowing, half conscious, unknown, my own. The garboard strake leaks, the seams need caulking. This form, this face, this life Living to live in a world of time beyond me; let me Resign my life … Continue reading Between one June and another September.
hope
Dispossession.
Well, hello again. It's been awhile. I've been stuck in a state of indecision and lethargy and not entirely certain which path to take. I've decided to take all of them. Simultaneously, or as close to that as the linear process of writing will allow. I'd tell you to buckle up, but you're already buckled, … Continue reading Dispossession.
So. Here we are.
So.We’re here, using whatever we can to justify the killing of the unborn — unwanted, special needs, birth defects — that’s quite a loaded one, the last one. Let’s talk about it. I’ve got some things to say. I was adopted at 3hrs old. My parents waited 7yrs for me. My sister is their biological … Continue reading So. Here we are.
Let go.
“Let not future things disturb you, for you will come to them, if it shall be necessary, having with you the same reason which you now use for present things.”Marcus Aurelius I am tired of reaction. I grow weary of anticipating disaster. I do not want to cease thinking rationally, but would like to avoid … Continue reading Let go.
Monsters and ash.
A modern day woman with a weak constitution 'cause I've gotMonsters still under my bed that I could never fight offLana del Rey, "hope is a dangerous thing" Here's the thing: we all have monsters we can't fight off. None of us is special in this regard. We aren't going to ever conquer our monsters … Continue reading Monsters and ash.
Catalysts are made to be burned.
I do not want this. With every fiber of my being, I do not want to be here. The heat. The ants. The fucking gravestone that I refuse to maintain. I never bring flowers. I shouldn’t have to. I should not have to come here. For fuck’s sake. It’s hot and humid today; the marble … Continue reading Catalysts are made to be burned.
Thinking makes it so.
Automat, Edward Hopper. For years I’ve wanted to live according to everyone else’s morals. I’ve forced myself to live like everyone else, to look like everyone else. I’ve said what was necessary to join together, even when I felt separate. And after all of this, catastrophe came. I must rebuild a truth — after having … Continue reading Thinking makes it so.
This is the way the world ends.
Datta: what have we given?My friend, blood shaking my heartThe awful daring of a moment’s surrenderWhich an age of prudence can never retractBy this, and this only, we have existedWhich is not to be found in our obituariesThe Wasteland, TS Eliot. I have a hard time writing about faith. I grew up Baptist, a pastor’s … Continue reading This is the way the world ends.
This wave.
The Tempest. J.W. Waterhouse / 1916 How do we learn to be still? To allow people the grace to ebb and flow around us without reacting to their emotional whirlpools, their tempests, or their doldrums? Don’t look at me — I have no idea. I am a reactor. I become a tempest in response to … Continue reading This wave.
And let my cry come unto thee.
And they were behind us, reflected in the pool. “The surface glittered out of heart of light,And they were behind us, reflected in the pool.Then a cloud passed, and the pool was empty.Go, said the bird, for the leaves were full of children,Hidden excitedly, containing laughter.Go, go, go, said the bird: human kindCannot bear very … Continue reading And let my cry come unto thee.
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