DEAR READER
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
oozey mess
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Sade Olutola
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One Nice Bug Per Day
Today's Document
JVL
Sweet Seals For You, Always
trying on a metaphor
NASA
we're not kids anymore.
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Three Goblin Art
titsay
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Jules of Nature
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@flytythegenderguy
i have fears that aren’t anxieties and i have anxieties that aren’t fears. i have anxieties that are ridiculous and over-exaggerated fears. but the thing about fears that aren’t anxieties is that they lurk and you’re unsure of what to do about them. the thing about anxieties that aren’t fears is you wonder where the heck they came from and why they won’t crawl back into that hell-hole and leave you alone.
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I would rather be my own warrior than hold onto someone that began to hurt me for a memory of something that didn't exist anymore
If my imagination is vivid enough to visualize all the anxieties that I spend so much energy on, I bet it's vivid enough to turn those dark tendrils of doubt creeping up into amazing, beautiful gardens that blossom into a protective cocoon around my bed. I have pulled on all my strengths these past few months while searching desperately for a way to keep my terror at bay and I have found so much comfort in the calm memories I conjure of sweet moments and people, breathtaking sunrises, the sun dancing in reflections off the Pacific ocean, slowly illuminating the white walls a soft pink. I quickly scroll these thoughts down to save them somewhere in hopes I may find them on a cold rainy day.
you can live in fear of the things that haunt your home, bats and ghosts and your own sad soul wishing it was shackled to the bed with no excuses for leaving no prior obligations no worrisome meetings you can live in fear of the things that plague this world like wars and capital the existential dread that religious upbringing has enforced with a tight grip and a short leash you can burst all the bubbles in your head until the only bubbles left to burst are those of close family and friends and they yell at you not to burst their bubbles is it so very just of you to scrape a rake through the evenly plowed lots that have sown seeds of unity no complication in love that trumps hate, love that wins, love that eats away at your guilt-wracked body as you resist the urge to help, lend advice and diversity to an otherwise bubbled audience a nice shiny sheen to the bubble you spit and scrub it clean this bubble is special this bubble has tricks up its sleeve this bubble reminds you to cross your t’s it reminds you why you never should have let your mind wander all those sunday mornings you could’ve been asleep
I wish I had someone to tell me why I’m crying These days it’s so much less obvious When I was a baby my momma would explain to me why I’m crying Someone’s hungry? Someone’s sleepy Oh that must be it I haven’t slept in two days Haven’t eaten anything worthy of the label food in weeks Which one is it I’m under the impression I could have things not to cry about If I was a fully functional adult human being Somehow I think it’s on me But I still manage to blame everyone else The thing is, it’s a gorgeous February, almost 70 degrees for weeks My SADD should be the most tolerable it’s ever been But I have everything I ever wanted now And I’m realizing I can still be miserable And that’s the saddest darn thing
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I turn into a pumpkin at midnight, didn’t you know When I told you I had to go every night you wondered what could possibly be more important than this and i don’t know how to answer that honestly for someone who thrives under ultraviolet lights it doesn’t make sense completely so I don’t try to make sense of it anymore
the fear of not being enough is real deep-seated it can be unlearned to an extent but i haven’t figured out how to destroy it yet without it destroying me
because i don’t truly believe in my greatness i don’t know how to give myself freely because i know that i am worthy i keep trying
I had known that this was good love without ever needing or expecting to read your words but I never knew how good love could feel until you gifted me your vulnerabilities You didn’t ask me to keep your heart safe from breaking but it’s really the easiest thing, as easy as it is to kiss you I’m quite certain no one’s ever made me cry happy tears so genuine This makes me wonder at how self-denying my survival is I never expected much from anyone, convinced myself I alone provided enough, enough of my own half-baked love I beat on myself for not accepting the half-baked love of others as whole just because they’ve labelled themselves so But is my entitlement so great, that I’m so ready to bask in this love that I’ve been waiting for, that I believe I deserve life is not a storybook chaos does not care for happy endings is it all the more magical that I get to have this moment with you? what i might have once called miraculous or coincidence I still haven’t decided if I believe in magic as more than wishful thinking my heart’s contented delusions I long ago decided to indulge them rather than resist I believe in this though the future is uncertain My little agnostic love, the flames which keep me burning
You make my love stronger, strong enough for the both of us, my love, your love is strong enough for the both of us
my apology / rends deeper wounds / unless it comes / with reparations / not an eye for an eye / we must reprioritize / restructure rethink / destroy the ego / destroy competition / destroy the economy / BECAUSE / a concept / will no longer be / my master / say it with me
my pride is communal / it is in we / first person plural / I unlearned me / in time, just in time, exactly on time / in the time it took / to finish the unassigned reading / the book I wouldn’t be graded on / yet it tied all my classes together quite nicely / “A Brief Intro to Anarcho-syndicalism” / a collectivist us / but not possessive / unless inclusive / and not that sheepskin diversity tokenized / model minority / respectable bullshit / I’ll fuck up / your institution from within / if you admit me / you’ll have wished / you’d rescinded / before you taught me / critical thinking / I’ll have wished / I never worked in the system / accepted your accolades / the fabricated accreditation / my degree / worth more for the thinktank college town niche / i stepped out of dazed apathy / and straight into / the war below our feet / a suppressed omission from the history lesson / a long time in coming yet ever present / revolution
[agnosticism]
RIP ripe raw A backward cascade from nonexistence into nonexistence or perhaps afterlife and pre-existence or life to life (to life to life) until nirvana or moksha becomes us it’s so hard to accept suffering until you can no longer sever it from living, but the desire to keep feeling draws you to push the ceiling back conjure your future shapeshift the (un)imaginable into reality and viola you have resistance denial survival a more digestible timetrick to distract from the sluggish plane of mortality the sin that fear keeps you in
a myth easily bought into easily bought out easily fought over killed for preached and asked forgiveness to a feeling more real than that which is stewed in a knowledge more primal than our evangelized “civilization”
My poly body is poly in all regards I am everything everything is in me how must you tell me to choose I am divinely encompassing
I am love I do not split my love my love is too great not to pour into all that I touch my love spills over I ooze pleasure my joy affirms it revolts in both meanings of the word I will concede I don’t contend I am fluid but I do not bend I criticize I protest to a nation’s silence I make amends “solidarity is a verb” she said
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[Mantra for the coming winter, entry into the workforce, or the long-ass walk to class]
Dont look at the time you’re gonna be fine you’re gonna be fine Dont look at the time you’re gonna be fine you’re gonna be fine you’re gonna be fine Dont look at the time you’re gonna be fine you’re gonna be fine don’t look at the time you’re gonna be fine don’t look at the time your gonna be fine don’t look at the time don’t look at the time you’re gonna be fine you’re gonna be fine you’re gonna be fine
I looked at the time I’m gonna be fine I’m gonna be fine I looked at the time
My fear of getting close to someone who was broken faded over the years of becoming broken to cold winters and long lonely summers and the anxiety and guilt of being alive
It was hubris to think I was pristine, unaffected and on a trajectory to be a success story, but only without you And yet I stayed because you provided an alternative a subversion you didn’t think you were revolutionary you were just coping I fell for the decadence of deviance
we internalize the belief that queerness is a pathology (I’m not broken because Im queer I’m broken because I’m alive here) and once I realized that I too have been broken i knew i couldnt justify shunning you for the same damn things we all suffer through
who ever makes it out intact is still going to have died and who’s to say what intact looks like anyway
you cope with your hips but in order to move you need booze I cope with you I cope with you
I jumped across a canyon at age 19 and didn’t quite make it fully intact in fact, you could say I needed a skin graft the aftermath was bloody and brutal my parents cried over their loss, tried reasoning with God they assured me it didn’t change anything I reminded them that skin is just skin, a sin a sin we agreed to disagree what is it about a little extra skin that makes this family feel incomplete
Growing out of the side of the canyon is a tree I can see ornaments dangling from brittle branches a skin suit blows in the wind as I try to make out other shapes a lock of hair, a torn piece of plaid skirt, a little cross on a gold chain I return to the spot on occasion Where I hung myself to dry after clawing my way up out of the pit where I had learned the shame of skin There in the sun I let heat kiss my new eyelids, and for the first time I felt comforted
If there had been a wall along the far side of the canyon, blocking my view of the gaping wound it would have been an arcade attached to a fortified monastery inlaid with medallions I had handmade as a child but all in all, I think my back was just turned away I was dazzled by the spectre of lush green mountains on the horizon from whence I came
I wandered into town, a 15 minute walk from the deathtrap cutting through the state I’ve seen towns before where the people go about their business but their business was never to bring me in and I’d never been in a place with so many skin graftees so when they looked at me with a familiar, knowing look I thought I’d stay a while though town is still so close to the other side of the ravine Lately I’ve become grateful that at least this one knows its history
This is the closest I can get to touching love without fear of getting hurt (sick, broken, or burned) after always extravagantly dodging any mention of the word I never knew love that wasn’t an illness till I left my skin behind and let healing wash over my exposed muscles and organs a stark contrast, a welcome change from cringing at the looks on people’s faces when they notice the glitch in the matrix that is my existence
The words yet spoken are my anchor, my lives yet lived
To go on, pretending you’re not irretrievably broken by your own fears must be the bravest thing
To tell your own nerves to take a back seat to the present moment you are living out the nihilist tendencies you always thought would make you want to die and yet instead they make you want to live
To create something out of the nothingness is the most creative, most drawn from the depths of one’s innerverse pulling at the very things keeping you here at all
I wanted to tell you that You don’t have to fear me Thinking bad of you if you Don’t give me reason to But you’ve been brought up in That toxic masculinity and I Don’t have the hubris to fix you
My distrust is reactive Why’s it always my job To go on defensive Or make pretend no offense was taken When you’re not a good friend I think you knew I deserved better than you I will slide another wall into the space You left when you walked away
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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i must have deleted the poem i wrote about her i must have had a good reason for deleting it, probably not i was coming out to myself in this poem and i was unlearning everything i thought i knew about myself i realized i didn’t need someone with muscles, who was taller than me and who could do math and taxes and oil changes and all the things i couldn’t do because i was taught not to do them or because i was bad at them or because i couldn’t be bother to learn, whichever way i realized i might like someone who was soft, and giggled, and that if neither of us know how to do something, we’d figure it out. we’d get there when we got there and the getting there will have had all the fun parts along the way.
along the way i realized that i still don’t know what i’m looking for and that’s okay. along the way i thought about how i expected this all to be a lot simpler when i was littler and things were black and white and never grey somewhere along the way i dipped my toes into grey and i still don’t know when i’ll submerge my head completely
 i want to go where no one will ever find me (unless i want them to)
i want to go somewhere no one would ever find me (unless i wanted them to)
if i had all the time in the world i would sit and i would sit
and i would listen to the wind
i would sit until someone came along and said “you can’t sit here anymore”
 some-one owns all the places i’ve ever been
i’d rather live in the dream-space inside my head
and if i were to scream out here no one would hear me
if i were to sing out loud here no one would hear me
*starts humming, singing, singing gets louder, i’m screaming the words to a melody i made up in my throat*
 i went on an adventure today
i went past the edge of the tiny little world in my head today
I didn’t quite make it to those greener pastures this time, but i saw them
i still felt alive and strong and almost free
and i added to the reservoir of my memory
(this place will turn up in my dream-space)
 .may 11 2015.