More

Test two. Last night went ok. I have little doodles next to each poem that I’m not ready too start digitizing. These ones are a little older from a retired notebook but they have a place here as there is one person who I want to see them (multiple people, but each poem has its muse), and I believe art can only be made for one person, anything more is advertisement.

9/18/23

I have to go. 

I fell asleep on the plane. 

I was trying to learn how to play chess as a way of burying my head in the sand in the face of real obstacles. 

It’s okay, though. 

Avoidance felt like the only way I could survive. And music needed a rest. I needed a rest. 

Good night, moon. 

It was so much pressure to be a river, to be a new person every day. 

I used to read this children’s book about a girl who’d crawl out of her window at night onto the back of a Pegasus. 

I’m in my home in Peru again, like astral projecting. My grandparents smile at me. I’m a child. They guide me to my bedroom and tuck me in with love. I close my eyes 

and I woke up on the plane flight back to California. 

I don’t want to go.

10/10/23

We just watched some horror movie where people are all tethered to their underground shadow self. I told him I found my tethered selves in LA. Two of them. A revolutionary and a whore.

10/3/23

If you’re lucky you’ll have a lot of humiliating moments due to my romantic tendencies. Moments that resemble art imitation more than they resemble grand gestures of love. The minds you can all but read will burn you with shame. You’ll feel cliche and fake. These humiliating moments, though early on are paid with humiliation felt, eventually turn real. If you do something, it must have meaning. The universe bends around your mess so that everything else is really the mess. It’s a law of physics.

1/29/24

A new hair color. It’s as important as the Republican primary. Humor that. 

I wait outside in a supposedly dangerous neighborhood. Bad things like me. They don’t hurt me. I’m their fearless if not bored ambassador. 

I like them too. They can make me laugh. Rather, they’re not afraid to make me laugh. And there’s all sorts of expenses associated with my laughter. 

All I know is myself. My world. They understand that. It’s enough. 

For bad things.

2/26/24

It’s true, I can’t find myself in the relationship. But I can’t help but plead when he insists on space. And Julia Fox confirmed, this is just what we do.

It was this thought I had 10 years ago in 2013 when I accepted the idea that a guy I had a crush on might not work out. It’s okay. If he leaves, then I can carry him with me through character. In my solitude, I had found humble acceptance. I was not the center of everyone’s world, and that’s okay. But now, after so much life lived, so much triumph, so much connection, I feel massive. I feel entitled to awe. I’ll burn it soon. I’m ready. 

To a man who was taught to hide his feelings and be strong/provide, may you find a woman who was taught to stop trying to control everything, to stop trying to seize power from the patriarchy by competing with every man in her tracks, to just enjoy love/tenderness like she wants to.

10/14/23

Fear. 

Useless fear.

 He rolls his eyes and walks away, 

leaving behind a beautiful mumbling child in his place. 

As to say, 

this is what you deserve. 

This is all you can handle.

Leave a comment