The insanity of technology in relationships, how it has changed sexuality, subtlety, the expression of genuine emotion. The complexity of the past and how beautifully it can be portrayed, though now we simplify to make things more magnificent.

Back home...a patch on my left breast, a cup of wine by my right. The air is cooler than I'd expected, not stopping my body whole with its humidity. I got away this weekend, and saw my family with new eyes. It was the first time in a long time we were active together, cooking together, watching depressing movies together, drinking together, laying in the sun together. My father and I took grandpa to the beach, (Ma wouldn't go, her skins to thin she says), and walked him slowly with our arms holding him up down to where the water meets the sand. Each step his furrowed brow raised a little, relaxing, until we got the the water and it rushed the sand up, burying his ankles, that he smiled. I have always been able to make him smile, but it's work and always has been. Today though, with the sun and my hand in his, holding him up, I truly felt my age, my heart, my whole being. I felt the joy he felt and it was my own and for a few minutes there, I loved my father whole too. I asked him questions all weekend, trying to get him to talk even though he hates it, I asked him what him and ma talked about on their first date and he laughed,
"I told her I didn't like her red hair and if she wanted to keep me she'd change it!"
"And what did she say?"
"Well, the next week it was black."
I hope I remember these things and I guess one day I'll ask the same questions of my own parents. I realized I don't know where they went to school, who influenced them, how they used to live. I want to know these things. I hope my kids will ask me these things.
I am home now, and I feel at ease, glad for my family and all their demands. And I've quit smoking, today, the first day since August that I've gone without a cigarette. I can do this, I'll just keep doing my dance and sing "I don't wanna cigarette, I don't wanna cigarette! I don't wanna die!" each time a craving kicks me in the ass, and they do,
hard.

drunk.
lips.
blankets
with sleep on a roof.
waking up to the hot blue,
sky
baking my body brown.
The fourth of July.

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.