Wednesday, May 27, 2020
All our springs and falls and now rolls over our limpness
Selfishly missing travel - specifically plane rides - and thinking about this lil thing I wrote elsewhere last year when I thought I was sick, which I am not (yet!) but still:
"So it turns out that it was mostly my occasionally debilitating allergies wot done it, and now I’m sitting on my bed post-doctor experiencing something I’ve only really felt during my best-planned long-haul flights, where a not-entirely-terrible meal has been served, the lights have been dimmed, I’ve face-wiped and moisturized and changed into my plane socks and I’m nursing half a Xanax and a whiskey-ginger ale and sitting back in my window seat, always the window seat, looking out at what usually is the last little bit of sun setting. It’s a contentedness that I don’t experience often, but I’m feeling it now except now the plane is my bed and the whiskey-ginger ale and Xanax are a beer, a tall Hydro Flask of water, a kombucha, and my arsenal of allergy pills and sprays, and maybe a bit of Ativan for bed later. I think the message is, you’ve got everything you need, and you’re precisely where you need to be, and because of this you will be fine."
"So it turns out that it was mostly my occasionally debilitating allergies wot done it, and now I’m sitting on my bed post-doctor experiencing something I’ve only really felt during my best-planned long-haul flights, where a not-entirely-terrible meal has been served, the lights have been dimmed, I’ve face-wiped and moisturized and changed into my plane socks and I’m nursing half a Xanax and a whiskey-ginger ale and sitting back in my window seat, always the window seat, looking out at what usually is the last little bit of sun setting. It’s a contentedness that I don’t experience often, but I’m feeling it now except now the plane is my bed and the whiskey-ginger ale and Xanax are a beer, a tall Hydro Flask of water, a kombucha, and my arsenal of allergy pills and sprays, and maybe a bit of Ativan for bed later. I think the message is, you’ve got everything you need, and you’re precisely where you need to be, and because of this you will be fine."
Monday, March 23, 2020
I spent the entire weekend thinking about this walrus
It's possible I've never loved anything more
Tuesday, March 10, 2020
You, yesterday’s boy, to whom confusion came
I keep seeing this, from Rilke's "To the Younger Brother," floating around:
Then suddenly you’re left all alone...and I would like everyone to know that this poem is about masturbation
with your body that can’t love you
and your will that can’t save you.
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