#@god

a hitch, hands in my hair, me up, up. the same thought, mouth to mouth, off me only for a gasp only to respond and affirm, only for love

stay in that love. choose love over knowledge

i didn't get two paragraphs into this graphite paper and i hate it and it doesn't even matter. danniyel is troubled and worn out and i am disjoint, we fuss. try to make room

christ i encounter at the beginning and end of every action. bismillah. it's only in this way, by this shining thread, that i can write my geology paper. 300 parts mysticism one part work, that i pour my heart into and don't fucking care about, that is strange to me and fights me and doesn't cohere neither in space nor time. i cut every thing loose and hang it on you. i hang from the arms, gasp, uphold me

i think people aspire for this kind of dependence, awareness, but it doesn't do me good or make me good, it isn't anything. i still snapped at that airport emt and im still here needing danniyel to do certain things & needing my schedule & unable to write an eighth grade level paper. my scope still my little scope. (there is no narrow experience only narrow representation) it is useless, useful. nothing nothings

process. to think the multiple as multiple. how and what is this paper in space in time in significance... (i can feel people laughing at me for this but it's an honest question, i can't just do the paper without situating it)

three large beetles going their way in the rocks & i found one dead on our walk. in pain all i want is peace and in peace i worry the pain ive lost sight of. im very hungry and will eat cookies in twenty minutes alhamdullilah. feels queasy to thank you for this. for something small and selfish and suspect. for something 'you've just as easily taken away', under that logic, from me and from many people with callousness. it speaks my mouth irregardless

how to pick out your voice. it changes on a whim. everything even my/god is matter, is contingent, finite unfinished, so i could be all wrong