it’s one of those weeks where i don’t fold my laundry, passively living out of a basket until it all gets confused and i wash it once again. i wake up at your house, the walls are windows and the sun’s light is harsh on a cold winter morning.
on the walk back we are swift and with our heads down the whole time. i tell you about memories from my childhood. how my mother would have us leave our shoes in the doorway of our bedroom while we napped. when we awoke we’d be left with fruit leathers or stickers in the pockets of our clogs.
to hold a baby:
in my dreams i don’t know how to hold a baby. i am stiff in a body made of fool’s gold. but in the daytime light of an empty bar i am hypnotized by an infant gaze finding it hard to shift my arms out of the cradle they’ve become. for the first time my hips feel like they are in exactly the right place and i am warm with prolific light. my cocoon mind is at ease as he sleeps on my chest.
later i am home alone. i am looking at all my belongings. i feel like a child in my surroundings. i am disappointed to feel so young, i want to take care of something. i decide to draw the bath, read a book in the lukewarm water. the pressure on the tub is hysteria. by the time i step heavy-footed into the ceramic womb i cannot imagine reading a single word. i wonder if this is what it feels like to be a baby.
as of recent i find it so easy to get my work done. like, how could i have ever found it challenging? i find that with this new ease in the banality of everyday life comes a feeling of work to be done, a lack of time. like everything i’m doing is really nothing and what i want to do is everything.
where the world is so forward i find myself slowly dreaming of going back as far as i can’t remember.
like your glass soughs that barely sound grace the sinking dust with your stillness and find yourself far from birth farther from your mother and her haunt an ugly, mortal stomping ground where only liquid solace is swallowed sit through hard times, a waning face a soft spiraled knit wound tight around your trembling mouth so sad when you’re alone i want love a true love found burrowed deep in a rabbit hole or cozy in a blanket wool a winter’s warmth in your bark giving only what it may receive teach me how to breath through cold lungs a deep, knotted hiss found in songs once sang and hands once made to hold far from your father’s corpse a mineral lump sham fooling only heavy hearts devotion a yearning left unexplained a paperless account of the same songs hands raised it’s true you are gone there is nothing more than this as it seems teach me how to stand on numb feet a feeble fable only told to those stuck in a uniform dream
fall is almost here and moving out of my old house has made this a reality. my summer was constantly surrounding myself with friends, fun, and more fun. i think i may have forgotten how to be a responsible human being with all the heat. our house is left like a soggy stuffed animal barely settled into the ground where it was buried, and we are scattered living between houses. half of my friends are moving far, far away and the rest are staying here like cattle with never-ending grass or something. i am feeling nostalgic on summer nights and wearing myself thin alone in my sister’s house. there are days between moving out of my old house and moving into my new old house, so i am back where i started in may.
my birthday is on september third, i will be 20. this number will make me way more attractive / attainable and exponentially less dangerous, which i don’t like the thought of. but to be truthful i feel old as it is, so who cares. if i didn’t previously mention (which i probably didn’t seeing as i don’t generally put any relevant info on this thing) my computer screen was cracked to the point of no return and so i have been living computer-less most of the summer. two days ago i got a new computer (thanks family) and so i hope to update this thing more often.
in the coming weeks brace yourself for a whole summers’ worth of photos, ideas, etc. as i have had no virtual outlet for the past few months. i have a lot of things i want to do— now i just have to //
