The wound image of sex,
your four year long masturbation.
Your impulsive tendency,
your youth,
the way the hair curls up your belly
like my head,
wrapped up in scents of my own wet fingers.
I am stopped,
by god or my own free-willed promiscuity and forced
to learn sincerity
from
one blue and one green eye.
The wound impossibility of sex when I come around at night
to make knowing easier.
So you will know me in darkness,
the one side of my face sunk into pillows.
The one taste of my mouth after all these tongues merge into
years we believe we have lived.
And these fluids are endless.

"...Agatha Christie tried to portray not only the agony of creation (the scene where she destroys a statue just after laboring to finish it because she senses that it is lacking something), but that suffering that is particular to being an artist, an inability to be truly happy or unhappy, to truly feel hatred, despair, ecstasy, or love- the sort of aesthetic filter that separates, mercilessly, the artist from the world"

"Usually, when I left the office, I'd take in a peepshow. It set me back fifty francs, maybe seventy if I was slow to ejaculate. Watching pussy in motion cleared my head. The contradictory trends of contemporary video art, balancing the conservation of national heritage with support for living creativity...all of that quickly evaporated before the facile magic of a moving pussy. I gently emptied my testicles. At the same moment, Cecilia was stuffing herself with chocolate cake in a patisserie near the ministry; our motives were much the same."

-PLATFORM

Realizing I've never been happier than I am right now. I have so much growth, so much past that has brought me here and so much more to work on. I am filling my mind with the worlds words! Learning what I can, listening to new mouths move and accepting my purpose. Relationship is all there is, no career, no money, though I know I need these things and have the desire to work for them, I want to experience humanity and let it experience me. I've been feeling so many quickened heart beats on my back and felt my breath and mind learning how to deal with them. The intricacy of stories, how some people can be as detailed as a book and see the world through these little details. Knowing that I lost someone and have gained more, knowing that emotions are not rational and come and go. Knowing that some people will stay with toxicity forever and that I can allow them to because I know myself and what I look for in my world.

So many quickened heart beats on my back,
each one a new story
each one the color of a strangers eyes.

And the disgusting things about people is their ignorance, their love for being blind, the ability to misunderstand and accept misunderstanding. I want to pull each mistake out, carve them out into the sand with my toes so they'll cover themselves up when I go.

Wow. So incredible the way life flows,
how words come out of me this one time because I forgot to think about if you knew me or not. You do, and I am getting to know myself now, wanting time and more time. Confusing where to start when I want explanations. It was so nice to see you.

i have been left.

some things wont leave me...like wanting to throw up on and punch things sometimes. I've been thinking a lot about the order of things, the order of the way our minds work, the order in which we go to get where we are. I've been thinking a lot about hate, and how it really cannot be separated from control and self-loathing. I've been thinking about how there is too much to do and nothing to say.

Noticing my home as if I've never lived here before,
settling into knowing I'm moving forward even if other people continue to say "oh, well...you have time" without knowing me. not to be angry, but mobile and not get caught in what I don't believe in.