Why can’t I fall madly in love with anybody. Am I too demanding?
Is it too much to ask for someone who will totally blow me away? Someone I don’t feel the need to entertain. To teach me and show me things I’ve never imagined. Someone unashamedly themselves. Articulate. Impulsive and brash and witty and graceful and still slightly unsure of everything. Who only sees possibilities and not obstacles. Who can speak with her eyes and ears and soul. As light and flighty as a feather yet furious like a god damn pack of cheetahs. I want to feel like I’m in the presence of a goddess. Who can see straight through my poor mortal cloud of words sounds images and ideas. Who can hear not the words I say but the intentions I so ineffectively convey. Who won’t be afraid to beat me around a little, or tell me to shut up, and bring up things that need addressing. Who won’t allow coldness and resentment and apathy creep in. And if we fight and destroy everything we own only sees it as therapy. Who’s fine with having nothing and everything. Who’ll remember no matter how close we get we’re still individuals and death claims us all.
Who still believes in the dumb idea called “love.”
when did i let go of the infinite? the restless daze, the absolute ocean, the constant falling, when did i stop wandering? somewhere the adventure shriveled up and puffed away. i rebuilt the cell and have been hitting my head against the wall. once you start differentiating that’s it. the aquifer dried up.
thankfully it’s coming back.
I just had a weird bonding moment with my sister. its like she was an actual human being for a moment rather than an abstract scribble with a “sister” label. it was nice, but i always get this strange feeling in my gut. it’s too surreal sometimes bonding with family. i’ve felt pretty distant from them all for a good portion of my life, it was always hard to relate. but only more recently am i taking liberty to cross boundaries i had assumed were there, as well as simply accepting them faults and all. i don’t know where they came from, who they were, how they see themselves, what their subject world is colored with. but they’re there. and with my sister its even more awkward, do i tell her not to do things? i don’t feel comfortable with that…. i can tell her to be careful with what she does. i always wish she were a little more conscientious, that she realized there’re so many more intricate and awesome facets to life than sweet 16s and reality shows. but meh…. i can’t control her, and i like that when i approach her as a friend she’s pretty open.
they had this ritual where they’d shove everything into a tiny glass bottle; pain, loss, memories, pocket lint, unmatched socks, and joy too - before the season changed and it went dormant for the winter - and a little message written to someone they knew they were supposed to have met long ago but the opportunity seemed simply to have stole away unannounced. standing on the tallest building reachable they’d stare down and drop the bottle. it was a vicarious act. no one really had the desire to actually ride the wake. the possibility that tomorrow may come and all of it will have simply shattered away wouldn’t allow it. the origins of the ritual are long forgotten, but it didn’t really matter. streets were littered with shards. tourists came to admire the beauty of the melancholy stained mosaic; willfully turning an eye all it belied.
The way the thought of suicide will just slip in for a moment in a gap between thoughts. Like any moment I could just open the car door and roll out, lean a little farther over the balcony, simply keep walking into the traffic. It would happen so seamlessly, so effortlessly.
Is there any motif so malleable, so ripe for appropriation, as maps? They can act as shorthand for ready metaphors: seeking location and experiencing dislocation, bringing order to chaos, exploring ratios of scale, charting new terrains. Maps act as backdrops for statements about politically imposed boundaries, territoriality, and other notions of power and projection. Mapping and art movements are equally susceptible to shifting and political and aesthetic winds. Like artworks, maps are selective about what they represent, and call out differences between collective knowledge and individual experience. Artists use maps to respond to social and economic globalization, and to find orientation amid cultural volatility. And some artists include maps in their artworks not for their semiotics but because they can adapt cartographic systems to their uses or simply because they are drawn to the line and shape of the map’s vocabulary.
Reflecting the diversity of contemporary artistic practice, there is little artists haven’t done with maps; they fold, pleat, trace, encase, weave, and crumple them; they burn down, twist, tear apart, and stitch together every kind of cartographic document imaginable. One artist mapped her sweat, a pair of artists mapped the wrinkles and folds of their skin, and another charted her every movement for weeks on end. Artists make maps of memories, mental states, and futuristic visions. There are maps made from an unravelling sweater, green tennis balls, and slabs of meat; in my research I discovered more than one map made of bubblegum. I regret not seeing, in person, one of William L. Pope’s maps of the United States made of thousands of rotting hot dogs.
[…] Rather than establish “meanings”, artists mess with received wisdom and poke fun at assumptions, rousing viewers to reconsider cultural truths. Traditional maps assert “This is how the world is, ” and expect the reader to agree. Artists’ maps countermand that complicity, saying “This is my vision, and I encourage you to construct your own.”"
Katherine Harmon & Gayle Clemens, The Map as Art: Contemporary Artists Explore Cartography (via nineteencigarettes)
the whole world gathered to see him; standing there, shouting, screaming, flailing, crying, tearing out his hair, heart, lungs, gasping, disrobing, gouging his eyes out, disfiguring himself, the screams left that tinge of iron from the taste of your blood but in your ear, no one knows what he was trying to say, he doesn’t either, nor do they really know who or how they came to see him. there he stood, disassembled. and out of the shards lying on the ground emerged what seemed like some kind of bird, or maybe it was a cat, a worm, snake, dolphin, wait…. it wasn’t actually alive, it was just a crumbled piece of paper with the words “shhhh it won’t stop” scribbled on it.
then the closest person in his vicinity took to the pulpit and did likewise. This continued until every single person had disintegrated. The world sighed relief. The instruments rested. There were no eyes to watch and the world could make itself comfortable at last. It folded into itself and there was no more.
there was no more.
If only i could physically hand out my feelings to everybody. I think they’d like em.
surely the sun scales roll off
paper thin smooth sets round
descends my dear
digitized angels approach
don’t worry, they’re friends my dear
wilting; saline empress commands
subjects circle in drunken dance
but there’s no entrance
The ants filed in ranks, climbing, consuming
"well… what a thought"
uninhibited jarring motion - slowly pummeled into seabed smooth - wisps and tufts adrift - synesthesia at the helm – monomaniacally pursuing white grandeur – tortured ligaments proceed to move – “creation” eternity chaos night chaos – rhymes with chaos – down colored schemes lily pad unfold – sinews mold – take a pilgrim’s shape instantly – the sane the weak the old – convene – started as zero – one, two, three – identity – irrationality subsumes - can’t punctuate these – fear of loss – ego making – mania in bloom – her eyelid’s flutter – so soon – chapstick kisses – consecrate the rifts and warbles – tape eject now – semicomplete wayfaring – contest and convene again - again and again and again -you confound - silence veils – prevalence of gleaming sliver – glean the entry – no reentry – certain ritualistic customs – catalogue and convene – denote paradox – subsist on fig tree choice – murderous rage – supplant – breath and depth – admirable confluescence – essentially same representation – signifiers transmit – frequent quests consume – lacking vitality she said – raw – what have you – relegated britons – now into vaulted memory banks – proceed to thanks – gratefully suffocating – the youth in asia – met existentially – referentially selfish – enigmatic encryption – situations happening in black box – déjà vu recoiling – the needle’s antithesis spinning – amplified racket ball – boil and mail said nothings – twizzlers lie dormant – the feathered delivery box in f minor – heavier then heaven – continues the stereo – alcohol and coursing poison – obdurate insolent blathering on and on – the misty page – mystery and Mr E’s nonextant comings – post coital injection warns – collected in books for posterity – gluons glued on collage – the structure shifts – boom ends the barrage – I can’t tell you again – dried well the supposed improper supposition I suppose – just heals and harms – borne in mind and carried aloft – grandiloquent vernacular – quoting parroting segways – I subsist –dissolution remutable – erudition wisps scarring – cessation subsist mightily – but holiday severance packaging won’t count – only when malkovich – only when malkovich – only when sniffling drivel – sic figure death autonomous – in the rubble – ends…
momentarily that is – for gaps collapsed and plastered – ramifications calculated meticulously – consecrate the tune – teachers end too – taught by whirling dervish pens – intellect dilapidates – gnawing ouroboros – phosphate group chemistry experimentation – duh – redox titration – orbital p groups – subshells occupied probably – quantized reactions altering ionization – organometallic – conceptual clarification and inheritance – automatically polyphase – techicality reigns vengeful glistening tokens – appropriate in all domineering circumambulations – perform ablutions then what? Terrace and lakes spill – 7 quilted atop lost artifacts – artificially spoken into imperceptible insanity – the crosshatched seamstress sings insubordinate clauses – ‘cause of all affliction rarified – in nonsensical minutia does appearance bear its flaw – read to now is thanks – for anterior motion – Fourier curve manifold subset trajectory – spirals interiority – culture clash defeats – your idiocy is beautiful – whimsy might – the pale eye’s fish opened lung sings sirens – yo ho my misery companion – poncher and what man – punished exiles authenticate – punks sit betwixt stone pilot and shouts vicinity – no – casting ephemeral molds the facts congeal – their days childlike probably – end in caked chordal tones – did it ourselves – a body and work sails – films eternized in previous generations iterate barbaric truth – logophile now buds excrescence – nostalgia quips remnants quick and nibs – less is mine vice divided – depth charge metasatire – bravo – bravo – sluts rafters grafted decisively – derision consumes – you and i – cruised cash cervix – service rales on mutilation – less regard to syntax extenuates – symbiosis off derailed coughing – never surmised – listen now or end – about never the point – prefaced by anon – eulogize my subservient grand magistrate – the coalescent mildew contexts – never will the – never will the – lack of aforementioned bones – red rummage 21st century hipatia – now and or are the forever nows ors are resolute – less tree paint deconstruct – comorbidity announced on aphasia his grammatical non binary impeccable – now destruction garbs manifest – destined through asymmetry to tale and score – less so than chosen many – often jumbles the kind – persecution in and about inundates the radion – radiation – oh brief pause garners noninflection – modal substitution – dominant assigning contests written – impure contrivance – 3 old and thrice the river assails – petrified in assonance returns mother deformation – conclude you are best perfection insubordinate – love the enervate – no – nightly descension we must gibber free –