• it feels like I’m learning how to walk again. I feel full, I think, “I need to write this down,” catch myself not present and practice throwing away the pieces. Each moment I’m reborn and My skin is burning away from the flames of the sun. But the sun does not pelt us from above, oh no. It pelts us from below where we are practicing burning. and we can already study what is because we are looking at ourselves, but what we do not know is being submitted and we will vibrate so fast to so slow. And the faster we get is either a balloon popping or being filled with water. And I practice calming myself and calming myself and a rise voice says, “the only thing to fear is fear itself.”

    • if we just listen and let be, you are the world. There need be no explanation.
      We are the solar rays.

    • The layers are peeled like an onion or Titanic’s sinking compartments are filling, the water pouring in and being shut up tight like a drowning man’s lungs and the ship finally sunk. The sea is done being shut up, let the waves roll, baby, and spill the ocean back to Me.



When I feel the silence creep beneath what seems to be the door-drifting and waivering and slowly ascending upon me I can only stop and I let it be suctioned off by a blink on the bottom of the face of my toes and my body begins to feel warm, circulating my muscles and dancing the halls of my rib bones and I start to close my eyes because there is a solo being had by my heart. And I respect and I listen to the beating within and i feel my blood dancing. and when I open my eyes I see the hair on the top of my skin with the echo of the light from the corner and i start to tease the tips of my fingers with the top layer of me and from here I start to feel the coolness that addresses the heated blood from below and here I am, a tornado of me, and my lips feel cool on the edge of my elbow (and I look at the roach across from my foot and I smile because I think to myself, if this were the end of the world and it was rare to see another sentient being, I would be so happy to see you Roach) And it’s hard to believe how to explain this could be no more perfect to those who compare yesterday with today. How can I explain to you, ma’am, that pouring you this glass of water might be the best thing I’ve ever done?