what my heart looks like, half upside down, but also curiously like something resembling “yin yang.” which means it will become that, soon.
(a.k.a the unexpected virtue of ignorance)
originally posted before my birthday two years ago.
Tag: past
“Rules for happiness: something to do, someone to love, something to hope for.”
Immanuel Kant
recently:
– attempted meditation while sitting on on medicine balls
– muted moons and music
– peripheries of eating pineapples
– carl phillips poems and then coveting chef’s knives
– truffle butter lyrics and more-than-telling discourses with ready smiles
– invisible cities in your eyes that i cannot land in
– things wrapped in bacon during last-minute soba dates
– kerouac and candlelight
– rum, we like it dark
– motorcycle rides, who cares about the cold?
– the cure for pain is in the pain
– and of course when love isn’t madness, it isn’t love
“Love, not power.
Inclusion, not exclusion.
Connection and solidarity rather than rank and hierarchy.
Touch rather than distance.
Compassion rather than control.”
– Rob Bell
p.s. on that note, i found the ubiquitous one-liner i put in all of my old AIM chat profiles.
“tread carefully, love recklessly”
watch out, rose from the 1990s.
A certain class of dreaming- finding myself alone on the interstate and then looking backward in the direction toward you.
I found your hand over mine as we laid together on the boat, listening to the urgent stillness of the sea. I found your hand over mine as we made fire, silently, with our eyes.
I awoke to find your hand oceans away. The charred remains of the fire are scattered over the ground, and I toe the ashes with the edge of my boots. I think about curiosities, like how I can’t remember the way your lips feel but I do remember the shapes that the edges of your eyes would fold into when you smiled.
I turn around, the interstate ahead of me. Eyes high, heart still, I walk towards the burning sky.