Sprouting Wings

“Reality is just a crutch for people who can’t cope with drugs”

“I’m sorry, if you were right, I’d agree with you”

“Comedy is acting out optimism”

“You're only given a little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it.”

n. the tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it - whether through envy or pity or simple foreignness - which allows it to drift away from the rest of your life story, until the memory itself feels out of place, almost mythical, wandering restlessly in the fog, no longer even looking for a place to land.

- From Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

With the passage of time, you notice your narrative begin to crumble. Small details go missing and your brain forces inaccuracies into the script. Were you wearing the blue dress, after all? You remember feeling the intangibility of the other, the restlessness in your thoughts. You remember the pines, the impression of the grass on your skin, the dog-walkers in the background, the occasional breeze. You remember hearing the words, read aloud, the delicately spoken baritone.

And most of us walk or drive or bike to work, much like in the real world. 

And some of us stand patiently in line and say our thank-yous and our pleases and always try to be there for friends and eat the motherfucking kale and remember to floss and offer the best advice we’re capable of regurgitating. 

And many of us show up to things on time and remember anniversaries. 

There are moments of pride in purgatory. There are comfortable armchairs and air conditioning and used book stores. 

You must never regret choosing to love.⠀ ⠀ Even if the road is paved with grime and destined toward chaos, and even if your legs start to buckle, and even if you cling to every moment because the inevitability of loss is the only guarantee you have, you must choose love, and you must choose it, always. ⠀ ⠀ You must choose it because it is hard. ⠀ You must choose it because it scares you. ⠀ ⠀ Because maybe, if you're lucky, you will find yourself fully human, fully present, intertwined, and for a second you will hear nothing but the sound of a voice quietly reading to you on a summer evening in the grasses, and you'll adore the world for giving you glimpses into an alternate reality.⠀ ⠀ And if the love is fleeting, you must still be thankful for it. ⠀ And if the heartbreak is crushing, you must know that it was worth it. ⠀ Because only the brave can love. 

Gravitational Anarchy

The earth is cold with nutrients for winter.

Beneath it: roots, sediment, basalt. 

Above it: trees, cars, worms, our frenzied footsteps.

Arguing about money, we slam doors and feel the rain hit our foreheads. We wake up early with headaches, make morning coffee, answer the phone when it rings.

And down below, a symbiotic network of fungi and plants carry messages to one another, exchanging sugar, nitrogen, and phosphorous while speaking of defensive measures and looking out for the weak.