This is not about self-discovery.
It is about sitting still and watching the clouds.
Watching the clouds to bring yourself back, achieve a calm state.
Watch them move through the sky, passing you by, as fluffy apparitions.
Surrendering your site of abundant movement, sink in and realize what is not real.
Why do you fascinate yourself with misery and conceptualize your pain?
The pain is what links us to everything else.
As we are connected by the possibility of death and the necessity of breath, suffering is shared.
Self is transmutable. As a concept and lived state of existence, is death not upon us constantly? Constantly upon us, self is beaten, forced into mold and we die and we die in order to survive in it. Releasing attachment to ourself, does the grief subside? With attachment I cannot stop dying. Floating in the water on my back and laying in bed, I relinquish the weight of carrying my head.
I want to hear my spirit. Her bones are rusted, cramped, and tight and I dont think she has consented to so much of my life. The directions to be pulled in when you let the river take you, you are not yours to choose.
Anger is not enough to succeed.
Rage is but a consolation for deep sadness.
Then there is the question of have I lost my mind?
To assimilate is to survive and to survive is a skill.
Diassossiation is not an escape from consciousness.
Refusing conscisouness is the opening for exploitation.
To be a broken soul and minstentioned body.
I look up at the clouds. They are layered with heavy grey and shining white against vibrant blue. It is Friday March 22, 2024 5:18pm. I am sitting in a burger restaraunt on a stool facing the window distracted by passing cars and typing these words.
I was waiting for you
outside didn’t too
the clouds continued to move
the airplanes pierced through
you didn’t show up so soon
it was way past noon
when I stopped looking for you
the birds went on
singing, flying, foraging
the breeze went on
dozing, composing, enclosing
when i stopped waiting for you
I stopped waiting for you
in the same place I started looking toward you
I could see the sun
until I couldn’t
the world kept turning
the spectrum of colors confirming
the end of a day
the start of night
a loss of light
I was unsure I needed to see you
a testament to my uncertainty
we are overdue
a world away I will stay
I like to play
another day
December 15, 2023
Rememeber How You are Like the Sea
i have lived so many lives
through those that have seen me
perception is an impossible interception
to the formation of self
because when you see me
i somehow become more real
when we see
why do we firstly try to understand to touch to keep
process, categorize, summarize
drowing in a mud
slooshing in quick sand
do you remember what it feels
like to feel their hand
can you still reminisce
when rain wasn’t a nuisance
and it felt like a kiss
kisses pouring over your body
can you breath
do you know you can breath
do you know a full breath
can carry you across the sky
over the ocean
have you forgotten to cry
did you know the weight of our tears
would fill the sea
the horizon is an invitation to be
still
as it conceals congeals reveals the sun
i want to run
barefoot under a tree
i want to scream
because we can’t see over the buildings
too many of us want to live
but we don’t understand death
what it means to be free
in our mind
in our mind
we can live so many lives
November, 2023
In Need of Help
we live in boxes cubes symmetry upending
the bunny didn’t like its new home
noisy loud car rides
living in a room
a human doom
but the world is too dangerous
because the bunny is a genetically modified creature
a brain that was changed to comfort ego psyche
living subjected to the human hand
the bunny will die out in the wild
the bunny has died
when it meets the fairy it is simply our imagination
the fairy isn’t real but the relief and comfort it brings as the
savior and protector of the bunny feels real
the bunny lay and lay the sink of time and rotting of day
grandma says my bunny was rescued and saved
by the fairy I do not worry at night that she is gone from me
the bunny has left and I can pay no mind because i do not know
what is to die.
12/14/2023
“Bunny’s House”
Suburban Neighborhoods, Beach, Chinese Food
I cry when I realize lemon trees can grow out of concrete
I want to cry when I see the concrete horizon in front of me
violent machinery muffles the sound of tree roots
when the kids play a man watches in the background
his doesn’t play and he doesn’t leave with one
in the first place
a mom with a stroller
one at the bench
one walking across the playground to watch her child‘s
trick on the monkey bars
they overlap in my peripheral
their paths of motherhood overlap
all with their phone screens in their hands
12/13/2023
Lemon Trees, Concrete, and the Sound of Kids Playing
7am with a pink sky on Melrose
Reminiscing on being a beautiful thing
if at 16 i became a pretty flower
they only held me gently
for a few minutes
i remember the first time
i was sexually violated
set up with a formal date
by my best friend
if i was a pretty flower they spit on me
drained me
and when they crushed me i awoke
i remember my first poem
written after this night
my spirit held my soul in its arms
I wrote about my chest being crushed
and a white dress turning red
and so I’ve lived as a pretty thing
like nature
they want to disfigure my flesh
rearrange my skin
if my body is a plant
my spirit and my soul are the ocean
defy my boundaries
attempt to defy disfigure me
I will drown you
if i am a pretty thing
I have felt a man’s hand many times
I have survived attempted re-rendering
I laugh as a womanly being
because I am still alive
I have survived as a young flower
at 23 i plant the seed of my tree
my roots are digging into soil
roots you can’t see
pretty flowers grow all over me
01/11/2024
my spirit holds my soul in its arms
12 hours of sleep, Montara morning, Mint Tea, Corporate Cosplay, Category studies with Lakoff
normalization of violence
participation of violence
how do you deter violence
prevent it
understanding the world
requires staying calm
myself
myself
myself
my self
self my
is my self mine
or am i myself
my
(possessive)
self
(ideal/concept)
do i possess an idea of who i am
no because it is not mine
i am what i experience
possessing self
indiscriminate stealth
i have never known myself
my self
i think she exists when the world
is quiet
after i smoke a joint
and it has died so many times
myself has died so many
times
i use to carry her delicately
in my hands
fell my eyes
myself
myself she washed away
with every pillaring verbal assault
the sound of the voice
grew deep within the landscapes chest
illed with air it barked through her
and when she died
when she broke her ankle
when she died
when the boy touched her
when she didn’t know
she didn’t want that
when she died
she died when she saw a bigger world
she died and didn’t want to fight anymore
anymore
anything more
she sits very still
in the sun
in the rain
she just wants to be alone
this is current life
the birth from the last death
she learns to notice when her jaw is tense
she is alone most of the time
and wants to get far away
but where to go and how to live
how can i not exist
to be free
November, 2023
Loss
debris in the sea
they want to kill me
you die too
communication brain
pathways
motor coordination skills
thrown away
its fun to
i am an object
adornment
hang jewels on my tits
poke them through my skin
gleam you like
what you see
the viscious in my blood
mama papa too
brother sister where do we go
we can’t go nowhere
witches broom
fly witches broom
accomplish rich
me accomplish free
dada
dance in the wreck
oil spill in the bird’s neck
stuff you need
stuff you need
when all the animals dead
plants deceased
will it be enough
debris in the sea
they want to kill me
you die too
plastic mangled fool
trade womb
for soul
vacant womb
open mind
cavernous lies
toxins in my breath
gut is stuck
mucky metal
plastic lies emphasize
suicide by materialism
I cry
they consume
consumate with decay
death to my womb
man looking
looking crunchin
features like numbers
salty spinning
mind bleeding out
out their mind
out their body
get off eyes off me
you an extension
of your things
i exist desiring nothing
brain bitten on like bugs
addicted
carcinogen
in your skin
oozing out your pores
eating what you are
eating consuming
the garbage that
with the sea black
blacking out ecosystems
while you black out
fruity bear santa con
put on the rom com
the earth dying
while you hunted too
follow me out the door
nice smile
nice teeth
don’t grab me
don’t want
don’t need
you fear the apple seed
fear radially
you are nothing
facing the phases of death
driving to work
or home
your body contorts like the highway
banana peel
eyes droop like banana peels
who are you calling out to?
12/24/23
Suicide culture
the web of the womb
do i die when i create you
are you dead when you are born
we are both dead and we are both alive
i strive to survive
i dance to laugh
i scream to cry
i die and die and i die
the end is a beginning
and the beginning is an end
want give to take and to lose
aspire only to expire
backless spine upends
to bend with the ceaseless circularity of the clock
the sun a vortex
entry denied to our eyes
slick paint
polyester infestations
mangled mind body brain
i want to be caressed by the wolf
and kiss the mice goodbye
i want to trust the sea
to carry me
there is no home
where the humans touch
weaponizing our senses
extending ourselves
with waste
toxins
pain
when can’t you know
when you are alive
when we don’t strive to
keep the living alive
sky cloud
children cry
birth earth
writhing scalding
from perception
skin drips like leaves
glow like a moonlit sea
why don’t we speak through generations
12/12/23
Dada, Materiality, New Books
2023, A Collection of Notes
gradual
transformative beauty
of misunderstanding
and beginning the journey
of truly understanding
question your
anger
rage
resentment
sorrow
question its arsenic presence
in your humman connections
embrace it all
oh how much more we can understand
when we can misunderstand
misjudgement decomposes
creating a new life to pursue
consumption of humans as a collective
we have been given more than we deserve
repent live in destitude
i take pride in my existence
i want to experience everything through my vessel fully
present
be present
my existence is based on my breathing
that is how i know i am alive in this world
learning to be my own safety
with a groovy little fellow
inexplicably interconnected
roots
you tried to make me so much like you
i run naked and barefoot
you cannot take my fruits
Adeline Drive
sit down and see
we are so far gone
it is impossible to take it back
find inner peace
find inner peace
i want to stop the bleed
i can’t see the wound
where is the cut
scrape
incision
pain I ache
we bleed together
collectively draining
with our different truths
where is our sense of belonging
how come i can’t see you
there is so much blood
shall we embrace while we die
or do you plan to keep up the fight
shall we sit and rest
for the time
where is there to be
no one will sit with me
watching the sky change
when the sun disappears so will i
my eyelids heave
concede like the beach tide
i let the last rays
stain my eyes
sinking into my sleep
i am gifted colored light shows
in my mind
i will stay here while i bleed
it is a matter of time
before i will be forced to rise
to want what i fear
is to fear what i want
collective shame
conformity
collective guilt
like a push pin
in a sewing cushion
the ego ego
we evolve so fast and so slow
we go
if we push the pin
are sunk so deep
are buried collectively
yet we won’t rise to see
body as suffering
body as nature
if we are the creatures we consume
thinking of our predicamented existence
ethics of the body
a woman is an opening
transitory
pathway
life line
portal
opened to suffering
birth is death
but we don’t ask to be born
or do we?
did our souls deeply crave an existence formation
did we simply get what we asked for
is luck enough to understand our life as good
truly and deeply what is the reason for more birthing
truth
consensured reality