The Painted Desert
Right now in the rest area it’s sunny and cold. Someone is taking a picture of the vending machine. I have never been sad for appropriate reasons. Never have I sat in the wet grass looking not at the dark sky but blue paper someone had carefully taken hours to punch out in a shape invisible until the flashlight is turned on below. Earlier when I said everything is a switch...
To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is...– Mary Oliver, from “In Blackwater Woods” (via proustitute)
And then the day came, when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to Blossom. — Anaïs Nin
Feels Like a Rainy Mood Sort of Day →
Rain makes everything better.
Changing What We Mean
Turning your back, you button your blouse. That’s new. You redirect the conversation. A man has entered it. Your therapist has given you permission to discuss this with me, the word you’ve been looking for in desire. You can now say “heterosexual” with me. We mean different things when we say it. I mean the life I left behind forever. For you, it’s a new beginning, a stab at being...
Every decision has its consequences that differ based on the decision made. I know there were instructions to “not get too attached.” I felt the wall being built even before I had come to a final answer. You knew before I knew, you stood on top of your wall and shouted what my answer would be as I walked from the kitchen to the living room shaking my head no, not wanting you to be right. Now,...
Would there be this eternal seeking if the found existed?– Antonio Porchia, Voices
Ceasing to Be
The idea is simple, Lucretius wanted to rid the world of death fear by writing On the Nature of Things. He says we fear death only believing the mind somehow continues even after the skull that holds it is broken and harmless vapor leaks out into everything dissolving. It’s true I fear my death, but I fear the death of others more, because that’s a death without death through which I must live. ...
Don't Go Far Off
Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because — because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep. Don’t leave me, even for an hour, because then the little drops of anguish will all run together, the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift ...
All the multiplicities of spaces and times exist in one Space and one Time