oo | Gravity

          I’ve stuck by my principle of never showing fear and never showing the plural in presence as a presentation of sympathy unavailable. Gazing at the stars sharing some box of grease as clogging as you, I didn’t realize it those many moons ago. When I saw you chained in traffic while my eyes were locked on you so seamlessly, I didn’t recognize it last night, either.

All realizations must not have a big bang, for I cannot pinpoint our carbon center. From the plethora of still true fates I promised to you, the publicly sharable is my existence: a galaxy, as you, & our crash course collision.

Now for the common speculation I offer my fears—every last one of them and you.

Ω | Krank Kunst

// Body & Blood

“Self mutilation is like a sick art show,
To be ourselves, we have to destroy ourselves..”

- Jeffree Star (Jeffree Star's FB Page)

oo | Praying Godspeed for Themselves and Us

I’ve been thinking a lot about a string of conversations my friend and I roped or wound the other day, tightly imbedded in our years long friendship lying on the foundation slick with confusion/confliction of the outsiders’ grasp.

I could have posted this publicly, a month ago I carelessly might have and disregarded what anyone thought of it & clearly my process has redirected its course. We know how we feel about each other, therefore we understand that the following excerpt of Dante’s Purgatorio holds zero romantic symbolism for the two of us in union.

When I read it earlier this morning I thought of you as a whole. As my best friend, yes, first and foremost, indeed. I considered our disagreement the other night—or perhaps a misunderstanding is a better term for it—and how throughout the entire conversation it never crossed my mind that, “This could end our friendship.” Fleeting about my mind instead, “I am grateful I love someone (and that someone loves me back) to the degree that I have no fear it would ever end over a petty difference, or perhaps anything.”

It’s difficult for me to show emotions, you know that better than most. It’s not an excuse or a justification, but an acknowledgment. As I’ve explained to you with elaboration at length: I do work on faults I discover. I would not be the person I am today had I not met you or had you not guided me as much as you did and still do.

Throughout Dante Alighieri’s epic poem The Divine Comedy (Inferno, Purgatorio, Paradiso), Dante is led by a shade named Virgil through hell, limbo, and then to paradise where he “sets him free as his own master.” You are my Virgil & I thank you for it.

“I hear love’s voice in every word you say.
Often, indeed, appearances give rise
to groundless doubts in us, and false conclusions,
the true cause being hidden from our eyes.”

- Purgatorio by Dante Alighieri

ooo | Violent Saint

            Last night my father informed me of someone recently approaching him inquiring, “Alexis is so smart and beautiful, but why is she so angry?”

            I didn’t respond for myself because I was not made aware until after the fact.

            A self-providing module, my response is a twisting of playful words: my anger is the result of my “smarts,” for this reason above all, I am beautiful.

“Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know.”

- Ernest Hemingway

oo | Evol

            Like unfiltered rain you reside on and in my jeans, delicate Delicatessen eating me away from the inside of your factory fuck shop, I want to scale you like an animal, breathe in your entrails, and personally suffocate to know your every nightmare.
            Scream from the inside out to the raw bare back of your bone fibers to my ribcage collapsing with and for symbols too ominous and blue for our situation desperately seeing a “forever, I am so yours,” written in overtones of yellow beginning in &.
            Hearts crashing and colliding to rip and tear apart, forgive the car crash—it was only a second away—there wasn’t room in this life for the threat of death…