Tag: trust

the dangers in cartography.

Screen Shot 2018-10-13 at 11.18.04 AM.png

the terrifying thing about choosing your own context for mental illness is that you often end up hurting/scaring the people closest to you, and hurting/scaring yourself.

it is not like an outwardly manifested affliction in that- no one would say to you, just stop having cancer. get up from your wheelchair. get your vision back. look how much everyone loves you- stop dying.

no one makes you feel like- you are doing it on purpose. you are willing it. you are purposely isolating, not picking up the phone, disappearing, not going to work. no one makes you feel like what is happening to you is wrong. like it’s your responsibility for failing everyone you love, for failing yourself.

what IS the same, though- is how people react upon choosing an alternative path to healing. in a similar way you would in choosing a raw food diet instead of chemotherapy. a visit to a shaman instead of a hospital. time communing with yourself, your spirits and guides, and your rituals- instead of a trained professional. this is the hurt that everyone who chooses a different way feels- that what they are doing is dangerous. that no one trusts them with their own healing. that maybe they should not put so much trust in themselves.

mental illness is particular in this fashion. and once you choose not to follow the paradigm given to you- that you are broken and need to be fixed, that you have a chemical imbalance that endangers your life- the road you proceed to traverse has no map.

and in making the map for yourself, sometimes, like last night, you will find yourself in willing seclusion. hiding like a child, getting as small as you possibly can in the darkness, while three of the most important people in your life stand on your doorstep, on three separate occasions- ringing your bell, scratching your window, calling to you. txting and calling, communicating to each other, in increasing alarm.

sometimes no disappearance is enough disappearance, for the hurt you feel. the hurt that washes over you, primordial and unending. you are told you are loved. you are told you have a place to go. you are told you can have anything you want. threatened, even, by this immediateness, franticness, of affection- you get even smaller. but the space is opened up, somehow- in which to trust.

how do i know which impulses to listen to? sometimes the path leads you away but it is only so you can trust enough to find your own answers. you know the path is true if it leads you back to your community, to the people you love.

despite how much you anger them. hurt them. how much you don’t make rational sense- it is not isolation indefinite. it is isolation to hear the answers- so to heal. so to return.

today i understood why i am creating my next show, PROVENANCE.

to show how this instability is the key in the lock to the power of my origin story. to show what it looks like, in actuality, to choose to create your own map. to hurt yourself, hurt the people you love. to bear the guilt and shame inherent in your affliction. to want to answer, open up, speak, accept an embrace, receive help- but simultaneously be completely unable to.

to dance at the edges of death, creation, eternal life. to find safety in the perceived danger. growth and fecundity in the darkness. so to understand- your holy wild self. so to ascribe sacred meaning to- your finite moments on earth.

i look forward to continuing this journey.
and sharing with you, in three dimensions, what i’ve learned.

XO

a.

in praise.

this came through, today:

i am unafraid of that which is my destiny.

i walk, lamp in hand, proudly, infinity symbol emanating from my chest. down these hallways, glistening white, columns and arches, to the places in the chambers of our heart that are not chambers at all.

what could we do if we understood our infinity?

what could we create?

there is no fall.

we were always barefoot in the garden, i know, i feel this when my feet touch grass and i understand. they ask me to write what i know is true, what do i know is true?

mental illness is an illusion.
duality is an illusion.
every spirit is called to initiation that which cannot be cured by doctors visits or prescriptions or suicide. we are here in this incarnation to commune with divinity, as divinity. to return. to place our offering, our brick in the foundation, our fire on the altar. this, as they say, the new city, the new kingdom, rising from the heart of the garden, the garden that is now not just a teeming protected paradise but BOUNDLESS, stretching on all sides, not just oasis but pervasive land of knowledge, justice, divinity, infinitude, love, truth.
love is the highest law, there is no other.
we must learn from teachings, from elders, traditions, but the greatest religion is that which we hold truest to our sacred hearts.
what sets you aflame, what do you understand in the core of you that is immutable? that is what you must dedicate your life to. that is what you will be drawn in return to, over and over and over.
we must look out for each other. we must care for each other. we must not compete. we must commune, share, understand.
as the world becomes increasingly isolated we must make our bodies and spirits the bridge.
we must never stop learning, seeking, but also in conjunction to actualize- to realize what is already there. the alchemical gold had to exist to be transformed, it can function in no other way.
there are many tools and many doors but the one true door is in your heart. the immutable Law, the Instinct, the Animal Soul, the divine archetypal protectors and the New Archetypes we form in the architecture of our spirit.
we learn so that we can cast out further into the truth. not to collapse under the weight or shadow of the masters, YOU ARE MASTER, hear this, YOU ARE MASTER. you take from humanity when you relegate yourself to smallness, smaller than your expansiveness, your infinite inherent worth.
use the tools, use the doors, but do not depend upon them solely- BELIEVE it is in your birthright to commune with divine energies, guides, messengers, spirits, and to recognize and accept your place AMONG THEM not prostrated before them.
interdependent co-arising we say once again, all is co-created every moment, in the spirit, it is not prostration to the altar, you are the altar, tend the fire, realize we are all architects and the time is forever and ever Now.

i wake these hallways as i have done time after time, life after life, aspects and self and whole and integrated. all the resonances you have ever felt can attest to this, it is all one great picture divined by eternal fate, eternal faith.
have FAITH in what you are, brothers and sisters, children, gods and goddesses, messengers, warriors. we are here to guide each other not just to be guided. we are here to strike foundations not just to help build.
every book you take off the shelf echoes inside you, every leaf turned is a veil ecstatically moved aside between chambers in your heart- so to enjoin, so to resolve, so to integrate. in this Kingdom, our Kingdom. everything that you are drawn to is already a part of you, you are not moving towards it, it is moving towards you, you are already standing together, you already have been.

realize that you can take these journeys- without aids, without complicated circumstance, that you can commune in your very home space, in your very moment, in your very joy or sorrow or frustration- these walls are not walls, these doors are not even doors. bursted, out, infinite, expanded.

we will come again and again to you, link and share with us, these teachings are yours as they are ours. we will write the legend of the New Kingdom, together. we will speak plainly. we will heal the people. we will heal ourselves. this is in our destiny to do, in your destiny to do, your personal legend, your truth.

do not slink from your destiny. the call will become louder and louder, old false kingdoms will fall but only so you can realize you are already standing in the New.

many of our brothers and sisters are articulating the call, bless them, bless yourself, continue to share.

we are not from On High to give to you, do not prostrate before us, do not cling to old legends and old truths.
we are beside you co-creating in the infinite present. you are walking with us in the glittering hallway, bursting out with excitement and joy to share, to shine the lamplight in your chest, to return to the people the wisdom that THEY have written, that belongs to THEM, in the kingdom and infinite brotherhood of man, to stand at the podium between columns and arches as you have seen before, this is your birthright, to plunge the depths.
the words are not enough, messenger goddess child, the words are not enough, any who read this. you HAVE been called to be the living word, to make your life the liturgy of the New Kingdom, through every manifestation, every person your hands touch, every heart your heart opens to, heal them, heal you, step into the abyss of the unknown and WALK THE BRIDGE. you have done this, you remember. it is why you love your bridge so much. it is why the worlds feel so fluid, because they are.
you walked out into the Nothing and made it Path. you walked out into the sky and made it Bridge. you remember.
this is what you do in this incarnation, not to long for old incarnations, but to MERGE WITH THEM non dualistically, as ALL SELVES at once, ALL FREEDOMS ignited and enacted.

we are so proud of you, wilderness tabernacle to the truth, righteous fire on the altar to the divinitude of man and woman, animal self reclaimed with exploration and wildness, nature echoing back in protection, teach others to See by Seeing. teach others to Understand by Understanding. lead others to Walk by Walking. but walk Beside them and not in Front. walk With them as i walk With you. and we shall see these coming days already in fruition, in every righteous action resolving inaction, in every fiery force of Love dissolving fear.

we love you as you love yourself as you love us as you love the world as you love the flickering lamp in your hands, you were born with.

go forth, beloved. go forth and stand in the kingdom. you do not even have to build. you are already there.

i came to Live the New Kingdom. with Love.

{{thank you for the opportunity to share}}

aho and ashe

17.

hello, my friends and loves and wild kindreds. here we are.

screen-shot-2017-01-06-at-1-38-46-am

i wrote this at the end of 2016:

many things have happened to me this year, i have caused many things to happen this year. some of the greatest triumphs, some of the deepest lows. this is what i learned: each day we are asked to hold a candle up against the things and people we love, in order to truly see them. to remember how to see them. but it is a definitive action, a powerful choice. an interaction, not passive. this is how the light works. sometimes our habitual or learned choice is darkness. we cannot always resemble the decisiveness of fire or the horizon or blades of grass. or soaking rain. we must make a choice, a conscious choice. for what we want to be, what we want to bring. to choose to heed or ignore the question posed to us, everyday. because whether or not we listen, the question is always there. will you hold up your candle to see things as they are? things and people worth fighting for. you, yourself, worth fighting for. it takes action. and i wish your body and soul recognition of that eternal, inherent movement, and the power in it. that no matter how much we recede into the darkness- hide, seethe, recoil, hurt. there is always potential to return the pendulum swing, call back the eternal question. back to the light. #happynewyear

**

what else?

the debut of reliquary: the body was my last performance of 2016 (you can read the full piece HERE), with amazing fotos by geo geller below…

it was something totally different for me, edges i need to continue pushing and playing with.

i cried when this was over and i cried into the mirror before it started. everything screamed in my head not to trust. i was more nervous than i can remember being for a performance in so, so long. i released the deepest and darkest. the cracked doorways and red sheets. it was done. and i just lost myself inside it. i seldom memorize my work, get stuck on perfection or fear of forgetting words, and just forget what’s possible in the visceral. this is what’s possible. to just give it, fully. and let it go. thank you with my whole heart to edjo wheeler & LIC-A and everyone who watched me debut ‘reliquary: the body.’ everyone who was moved. it was beyond me. i know that through everything, i just have to continue pushing. #thankyou

this is the video by bill hopkins which i feel so lucky to have…

and this

15800183_10101541453975934_5073710161773374810_o
1.1.17 first day of the world:

some days you ride with the current. swiftly, effortlessly. the earth seems peopled with feelings, with presence. walking alone is not walking alone. it is not being afraid. not feeling the passage of time. i remember, now, walking this bridge under delicate slice of crescent moon, cars roaring. how it felt to walk the woods alone. stand on the edge of the road at night. sit in the field, watch vultures circling. i fear again and again i will be robbed of myself. but it is just a matter of slipping back into the stream. nothing gained, nothing lost. resuming, pulse of the infinite. onward, and on.

**

find me, here [upcoming events]

including- something very close to my heart:

HOW WE CREATE/HOW WE COPE:
intersections of art & mental health/mental illness

Friday, February 10th, 6:30-8:30pm
at Queens Council on the Arts’ LAB space in Astoria [Facebook invite]

Queens native and poet/curator Audrey Dimola hosts a panel and performance evening aiming for safe space, honest talk, and open presentations about the too-often stigmatized topic of mental illness, particularly in connection to the creative experience. Throughout our cultural history, many of the legendary artists we know today grappled in this way- yet it becomes a passing line in their bio, a tragic footnote; and their brilliant work remains. In the present day, an increasing number of individuals of all ages are struggling in similar fashion, frequently in silence and shame, for fear of judgment and unanswered questions. How much of how we suffer makes us who we are and results in the art we create? How much of these feelings are the natural experience of the artist, and when is it time to seek help? What do those forms of help look like? A variety of local featured artists will present their stories, poetry, music, visual art, and more, in addition to facilitated discussion, Q&A, and sharing of resources/experiences on these topics. All are welcome, your voice is encouraged.

15844523_10101540747471774_641790573321427397_o.jpg

1 is the year of completion,

(with gratitude for you always)

XO

a.

adhesive.

IMG_20160209_125135

i am i am i said i’m not myself but i’m not dead & i’m not for sale
hold me closer closer let me go let me be just let me be -STP.

“the pull is visceral. it may also be an act of self-loathing or anger against home or society or even the human condition in which the promise of death shadows us from those first fresh moments of birth.” -scott weiland, ‘not dead & not for sale.’

there comes a time when the pain is too great and you have to make things.

physically- knot them, paint them, scratch them, burn them. scavenge in the street, rip from pages, make a mess. as much of a mess you feel like you are- to create- that.

because- for a person for whom words are everything- sometimes they mean nothing.

and out of this disillusion, disappointment, hurt- something else is born. something in the realm of craft and mystic- synthetic. organic. trash. treasure. dirty hands to remind you you’re still alive and there is still a way to express the infinite bewilderment of that fact.

the only way to truly rail against death is to disappear for awhile- and create something.

//ajd 2.10.16

IMG_20160213_113128

IMG_20160212_221807

IMG_20160213_112541

IMG_20160213_112618   IMG_20160212_221729

IMG_20160213_112714

IMG_20160212_234027 (1)

IMG_20160213_113741

IMG_20160213_112428

“i embrace the day at a time mindset. for me, there’s no other way to live. i’ve got to stay present. i am optimistic. i have to learn to see the beauty in the mundane. i believe this is a key to my spiritual well-being. i have to change my perception and see god’s beauty in everything.”

“the human heart filled with sorrows and gold.”

-scott weiland, ‘not dead & not for sale.’

**works pictured:

. still frame from movement to ‘interstate love song’

. still – collage

. i only have one antler (assemblage to the old life); what are bones for anyway (the stake, & association- ‘dying isn’t the hard part’) [two pieces]

. incomplete initiation [detail]

. breathing is the hardest – collage

. i only have one antler (assemblage to the old life) [detail]

. breathing is the hardest – collage [detail]

. still frame from movement to ‘interstate love song’

. incomplete initiation

. notes from the bottom (this is a cry for help)

**notes to self:

an installation is coming

do everything in the glow of candles and christmas lights

art is a permanent solution to a temporary problem

XO

a.

happy birthday to me

IMG_20150810_215909

can there be any possibility of completely understanding who we are and why we’re here or where we are going? […] you have to keep on asking. -kunitz

IT’S MY BIRTHDAY! <3 (leo grrlz throw ya paws up!! ;))

thank you all for helping make it a crazy-beautiful and incredibly memorable trip around the sun..

for all the words, the enthusiasm, shows attended, inspiration shared, hugs exchanged, hearts touched, collaborations made, opportunities presented, magic conjured, and LOVE given freely.. thank you, thank you, thank you.

for this one life, this voyage of mine that sometimes veers into the wildest of waters- i am so grateful.

i realized the other day that the gorgeous moments of life are a lot of like bright islands in a shadowy sea.

each moment stands like an island circling light like a beacon in the darkness- it can’t be compared to anything else, it just is. even lost in the wild sea, know that- a few more breaths, strokes- the light will fill you, find you again. be witness to what it is you feel. the grace in almost drowning and finding another island. life is like that. light-filled islands in the dark, wild sea. shifting, eroding, flooding, so you can’t quite stay, but god.. so beautiful while you do.

IMG_20150810_220838

my birthday wish is to remain cognizant of how lucky i am, every. single. day.

i want to share 29 pieces of wisdom with you that have been helping me through the wilderness of this particularly heart-cracking summer.

with fire-filled thanks for my twenty-ninth year..

out of darkness lion heart pumping,

XO

a.

IMG_20150810_222950

29 for 29 / how to make it through the wilderness:

1. don’t forget that this too is part of the magic you have to offer the world. this pain we go through. our wilderness years. –nick calder

2. in other words, fear doesn’t go away. the warrior and the artist live by the same code of necessity, which dictates that the battle must be fought anew everyday. –the war of art

3. discontent, restlessness, doubt, despair, longing […] instead of facing them, one runs away; one escapes- into depressions, nervous breakdowns, drink, love affairs, or frantic, thoughtless, fruitless overwork. anything, rather than face them. anything, rather than stand still and learn from them. one tries to cure the signs of growth, to exorcise them, as if they were devils, when they really might be angels of annunciation. –gift from the sea

4. we insist on permanency, on duration, on continuity; when the only continuity possible, in life as in love, is in growth, in fluidity- in freedom. –gift from the sea

5. maybe that’s why i have a fragile heart. you can’t accept everything, or you become a monster. –the golden legend (film)

6. the kinds of discoveries that are made through practice have nothing to do with believing in anything. they have much more to do with having the courage to die, the courage to die continually. –when things fall apart

7. you don’t have to have a college degree to serve. you don’t have to make your subject and your verb agree to serve. you don’t have to know about plato and aristotle to serve. you don’t have to know einstein’s theory of relativity to serve. you only need a heart full of grace. a soul generated by love. and you can be that servant. –MLK

8. being preoccupied with our self-image is like being deaf and blind. it’s like standing in the middle of a vast field of wildflowers with a black hood over our heads. –when things fall apart

9. if you don’t go out in the woods, nothing will ever happen and your life will never begin. –women who run with the wolves

10. there must be a little, and in many cases, a good deal of blood spilled on every story, on every aspect of your own life […] if a person is to carry a true medicine. –women who run with the wolves

11. listen to the birds always. –shane hobel, mountain scout survival

12. and though of magnificence and splendour, your house shall not hold your secret nor shelter your longing. for that which is boundless in you abides in the mansion of the sky, whose door is the morning mist, and whose windows are the songs and the silences of night. –the prophet

13. do it with all your heart and then don’t care when it breaks. –eduardo, on the metro

14. I placed one foot on the wide plain
of death, and some grand immensity
sounded on the emptiness.

I have felt nothing ever
like the wild wonder of that moment. –rumi

15. for horror not to repeat itself endlessly we have to understand its makeup, be willing to look at it, get close to it, at the same time not burn up with it. what we avoid corrupts and deforms us- we are always twisting away from it. and it shows in our writing, in the way we sit and walk. –the true art of writing

16. it is not the desert island nor the stony wilderness that cuts you from the people you love. it is the wilderness in the mind, the desert wastes in the heart through which one wanders lost and a stranger. when one is a stranger to oneself then one is estranged from others too. if one is out of touch with oneself, then one cannot touch others. […] only when one is connected to one’s own core is one connected to others, i am beginning to discover… –gift from the sea

17. only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible be found in us. –when things fall apart

18. ask not of things to shed their veils. unveil yourselves, and things will be unveiled. nor ask of things to break their seals. unseal ourselves, and all will be unsealed. […] if, then, your world be such a baffling riddle, it is because you are that baffling riddle. and if your speech be such a woeful maze, it is because you are that woeful maze. –the book of mirdad

19. if there’s a god or any kind of justice under the sky
if there’s a point, if there’s a reason to live or die
if there’s an answer to the questions we feel bad to ask
show yourself, destroy your fears, release your mask… –QUEEN [listen]

20. ’i’ve been through all this before,’ he says to his heart.
‘yes, you have been through all this before,’ replies his heart.
‘but you have never been beyond it.’ –coelho

21. i am always being overwhelmed, i require it to sustain life. –everett ruess

22. TODAY IS A GOOD DAY FOR MY EGO TO DIE! –nahko [listen]

23. what the hibernating winter in their blood/ needs to become- some dreaming scene/ of humans lumbering away, walking/ on their tongues and tasting/ the truth of the earth. –hochman

24. how sublime is the silence of nature’s ever-active energies! there is something in the very name of wilderness, which charms the ear, and soothes the spirit of man. there is religion in it. -wilderness & the american mind

25. TODAY, TODAY LIVE LIKE YOU WANNA
LET YESTERDAY BURN & THROW IT IN A FIRE
IN A FIRE, IN A FIRE
LIVE LIKE A WARRIOR –matisyahu [listen]

26. But often, in the din of strife,
There rises an unspeakable desire
After the knowledge of our buried life;
A thirst to spend our fire and restless force
In tracking out our true, original course;
A longing to inquire
Into the mystery of this heart which beats
So wild, so deep in us- to know
Whence our lives come and where they go. -m.arnold

27. We want so much,
When perhaps we live best
In the spaces between loves,

That unconscious roving,
The heart its own rough animal.
Unfettered. -tracy k. smith

28. an animal flowers in the elements. it grows wings. –humanimal

29. the solution for me, surely, is neither in total renunciation of the world, nor in total acceptance of it. i must find a balance somewhere, or an alternating rhythm between these two extremes; a swinging of the pendulum between solitude and communion, between retreat and return. –gift from the sea

& one for luck**

when you look back on a lifetime and think of what has been given to the world by your presence, your fugitive presence, inevitably you think of your art, whatever it may be, as the gift you have made to the world in acknowledgment of the gift you have been given, which is the life itself. and i think the world tends to forget that this is the ultimate significance of the body of work each artist produces. that work is not an expression of the desire for praise or recognition, or prizes, but the deepest manifestation of your gratitude for the gift of life. –kunitz

IMG_20150811_115856

lose your self-consciousness
gain your self-awareness
back.

be the light on the underside
of leaf
move like the forest teaches
you to move

the goal for you is to overcome
restriction

it is up to you to be a human
translation of the wild

be the wolf they can see in the
shine of your iris in sunlight

help them remember how. –notes from my treehouse

it’s time

to let the first (immersive) version of this wily beast loose.

will you join us?

in 2012 on what would’ve been my nana’s 66th birthday i released my first book, “DECISIONS WE MAKE WHILE WE DREAM.” this year the day after my nana’s birthday and the day before mother’s day, i’ll be doing another first: a site-specific immersive experience called “THE WILD PAPERS.” it’s been a (fittingly) wild ride to this moment – starting off with restlessness & ideas, many talks and emails filled with questions to special friends, a writing/sharing workshop at queens council on the arts and finally an unexpected opportunity from monica montgomery to present at the lewis h. latimer house museum (under their ‪#‎museumanarchy‬ program!) that led to even more talks, idea-spinning, playing and inspiration with some beautiful collaborators i am so damn grateful to have: tyler rivenbark, jacob jeffrey horstmeier & kate vander velden. it’s been challenging, terrifying, humbling, goosebump-inducing & insanely FUN.. can’t wait to see where the road goes from here.

TheWildPapersFlyer
flyer by GiAnna Ligammari // art !

“The Wild Papers” is Audrey Dimola’s latest project and initiative, a series of performances and workshops centered around sparking memories and dreams, diving headfirst into the stories that make up our lives, and rediscovering – and reclaiming – the limitless spark of wildness within us all.

On May 9th, the Latimer House in Flushing, Queens will be home to the very first incarnation of “The Wild Papers” as a performance – a unique, site-specific experience in the house and its grounds, conceived with inventor/poet/draftsman Latimer’s spirit of the unconquerable, of innovation and creativity.

You will be led through a seamless presentation of vignettes of dreams and memories, told through music, dance, poetry, and theatrical elements both specific and universal, playful and haunting. “The Wild Papers” is an exploration of the joy and poignancy of nostalgia, what we bring with us as we go forward, and what makes us who we are.

We are living with an ENDLESS barrage of memories, thoughts, and emotions, especially when it comes to the idea of HOME. Can you ever really go home again? And if you can, what do you find there – in your loved ones, your memories, yourself…?

Conceived by & featuring:
Audrey Dimola
Tyler Rivenbark
Jacob Horstmeier
Kate Vander Velden
with Diana Benigno

Saturday, May 9th – 6pm
at the Lewis H. Latimer House Museum (#museumanarchy!)
BBQ PARTY with veg options after! (forrealz)
Facebook invite is here.

rock & roll with wild on the side
(did i mention there may be ghosts),

XO

a.

strands.

there’s something strange that rides on the edge of disaster.

a kind of hope, in the distance, in the blinders.

in the windshield promise of the open road.

the fact that even in the heartache..

things change.

again – we were in the car, me shotgun, outside my house. impressionable in college, anyway. i let you cut my hair and you butchered it. but you said: “if nothing changes, nothing changes.” your mom, passed on, told you that. and you still wore a few strands of her greyed hair inside your necklace.

i wonder what i would do if i could pull apart what we are – what parts would i take? wear around my neck? crystallize? lift up to the shelf where all of our myriad objects from journeys get left.

i was moving my clothes and your terracotta incense burner shaped like a church fell. and broke.

i wonder.

the heart is not a metaphor, they say.

what about everything else?

there is a strange promise in the artery of heartbreak.

even in the severing, you take comfort in the fact..

you’ll bleed new blood.

it doesn’t mean –

never trust again.

it doesn’t mean –

never love again.

it just means..

there are more mirrors in this house than i expected.

but i realize now how easy it is for you to look past your own reflection.

isn’t it funny, how we all always say –

i thought i knew you?

maybe it’s not even possible – to know.

it’s just whatever strand of light hits the glass first.

XO

a.

strangers.

my girl, my girl, don’t lie to me. tell me where did you sleep last night? in the pines, in the pines, where the sun don’t ever shine. i would shiver the whole night through.

sometimes i think – i need to disappear into the woods.

hollow out a space for my bones, curled up into a tangle of fur and paws and tears.

even the beasts cry, sometimes.

especially when they don’t want to.

i am not foolish enough to believe that anyone can be what you need them to be.

i remember his mother telling me that, a few heartbreaks ago, from the driver’s seat of her car on the island.

she said it in passing but it predicted the end – of that. of – so many things.

this sad zodiac.. my stars shattered into a bowl, mortar and pestle, feed me my wishes again so i can stay.. alive.

it all comes out in the grinding.

in the working of the words, of the bones, of the promises.

where is the line from acceptance to acceptance? what makes it surrender? what makes it holding your breath?

i am not a guru sitting in the woods, eyes closed, hands folded. sweet smile.

i am the beast in the burrow.

i don’t believe you.

acceptance is not surrender in the usual sense. funny, these guises of words.

all guises. all words held on posts against faces. we promise. and promise. and close our eyes again.

but it’s not important enough, is it? is it.

you have lived this long enough and i am not understanding.

i think i know enough to say – i don’t want to..

maybe i should keep it. myself.

let you remember how the lone howl fits in your throat.

leave you with the cup. the lighter and matchsticks.

i don’t believe you.

..

even the beasts cry, sometimes.

waiting for another dream.

XO

a.