End of March

3/21/24

The Fight

The breeze carries the thoughts of the city away.

They go germinate elsewhere. 

If this, do that. If they hurt you, 

fix the place they targeted so it can’t be used against you… Shhh, it’s over. 

You’re done now. 

Breathe. 

Close your eyes. There’s so many good books. Good people. You’re fine.

3/24/24

If you must pine

Who will you pine for?

3/24/24

The feminine urge to wed aerospace and art.

3/25/24

Love me

I never meant for this,

3/25/24

Find me

Sleeping like it’s been a year since I had a bed. 

I’m a little nervous. 

Find me. 

The art of gods. The poems for freedom. The fearless eyes.

Find me. I know you can. 

That is the essence of a good peace. It’s autonomy in seeking souls that need it. Programmed into it at birth.

3/26/24

You never have to feel embarrassed with me.

3/26/24

Ane ode to lists

Respect me. 

I’m dead. 

I’m emo. 

I don’t give a fuck. 

I do whatever I want. 

I’m crazier than you. 

I’m badder than you. 

I see through you. 

I love harder than you. 

I’m deadpan British Tea. 

I cry more. 

I stay up later than you.

3/27/24

Ulterior Motives

“You’re just using me for friendship.” 

Things had gotten heated. He said it like I was a whore fucking for family, desperately alone, having just moved to a new city. There was some truth to it. It stung. 

“What am I supposed to do? Die?” 

And losing him, going back to isolation, felt like death. As far as being used goes, especially in LA, companionship and love are probably the most wholesome motives, though it was still too premeditative, too thought out, and that was my sin.

3/27/24

Little did I know, when he took my hand, he was taking my thoughts. This was bigger than I had anticipated.

3/28/24

Accidentally  Feared

Everything has changed. It will continue to change, rapidly. There’s too much to talk about right now, I can’t process it all in the form of writing (perhaps dance). I don’t know how I did it, but I did it. I can remember a little voice in my head saying  “Push now, or you’ll regret it forever.” 

Don’t forget, I’m an artist. Sometimes, I’m accidentally psychic to those who trust, and/or a stalker to those who do not. 

I can remember a shadow woman forcing me to speak, forcefully opening and closing my jaw. She’s mute. I yell at her to stop. “No, it’s dangerous. You’re dangerous. And the worst part is, no one believes you’re dangerous, brushing off our warnings as bluffs, cute little quirks, forcing our hand an unusually high number of times.”

3/28/24

There is a kind of love only for scarred things.

3/31/24

It’s interesting. These partnerships, our confidence fading in and out, yet we stay. Let it surprise us. 

That’s the deal. 

I’ve got a fresh ragtag team of misfits

Of outcasts

Pulled straight out of the abyss. 

I’ll take care of them

Like you did for me.

3/31/24

To Midas

I don’t want to recreate the brain

I stop at analog

I stop at ornithopters.

Thx

Drela

–

You are only two humiliating acts away from getting what you really want.