I like my body when it is with your

body. It is so quite new a thing.

Muscles better and nerves more.

I like your body. I like what it does,

I like its hows. I like to feel the spine

of your body and its bones, and the trembling

-firm- smooth ness and which I will

again and again and again

kiss. I like kissing this and that of you.

I like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz

of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes

over parting flesh... And eyes big love crumbs,

and possibly I like the thrill

of under me you so quite new

fickle and sleepy,

not sure why seeing others smiling is so intolerable

maybe it's because this is how i feel

I just didn't want you jumping

off a building, or somethin

sorry you had to revisit that. I really do love you

Memories are nice, but Maybe you(we) shouldn't save everyyyything

I don't think I've got it yet

and I don't think I ever will

I sit and write stupid things

and hope that those are what I feel

and if I'm wrong I'll surely miss

the stranger

I've met

I've made

in this

this wintry mix outside is cold and soaks through my drawing pads.

you're a riddle to solve

i'm a joke that you don't get

If I had my way we’d sleep every night all wrapped around each other like hibernating rattlesnakes

I'm really weird. I'm really all fucked up.

If I stay in one place, I lose my mind

sam, i forgot my glasses at school. and now i come home tasting like gin, eating popsicles, finding cats on my lap. i feel lost and blind and happy all the same. i don't know what i'm saying but i'll use this state of being on the verge of total darkness as an excuse. blindness is purposeful in the dark, right?

i mean that's what everybody else is doin anywaysss

w

h

a

t

e

v

e

r

What can you do? Nothing

just keep doing what you're doing and being who you're being. try and smell the cookies and not the shit. then hopefully it'll pay off, you'll be better

but let's not pretend to be something we aren't. this is how I feel and so this is how I am.

I feel as though all my problems would be solved if people actually felt like they could tell each other how they feel. Why does it seem like a mortal sin to do just that? Now instead it's constant guessing and uncertainty.. Great.

some therapy from me. i kind of need it.

shtudying

On the topic of "home" and "objects" and romanticizing everything

I don't know, I believe your home is fluid and you carry it with you in your essence and it grows and wilts and blooms again and so on as life goes on. I think physical elements can enhance a home and express and materialize a more emotional or intangible feeling of home that sprouts from belonging and comfort and identification.

Those physical or material items can be so important and special though. I don't think it is materialistic or vain to define your home by your objects, as long as they are meaningful and it isn't a matter of wealth or simply the amount of objects. I feel that objects can be absolutely beautiful and absolutely personal, especially now that I am living on my own and my possessions are truly my own. The act of holding a physical book and knowing that that book is mine and then placing it in a room that was previously anonymous, well that act alone can create a certain home. Not just the object as paper and ink, but the object as it is charged with my sentimentality and pride and excitement and nostalgia and fear and love of that book and everything it represents to me, whatever that may be. The same could go for any object, to anyone, in any way. I don't think that is shallow or materialistic. Obviously lines could be drawn, but theoretically and personally I believe in this concept.

Also at this stage in my life my main home is location, but I feel that in the future my home could revolve less around the relationship between myself and my environment and maybe my home could be mainly defined by another person and my relationship or journey with them. I don't mean necessarily falling in love or marriage or family or anything, I just mean that I believe that a person can identify not only a somewhere, but maybe also a someone as their home.

p.s. do you recognize that drawing, Sam?

Tell me about it, Louise

Everywhere in the modern world there is neglect, the need to be recognized, which is not satisfied. Art is a way of recognizing oneself, which is why it will always be modern

You can only control that which you understand, keeping ever-lurking chaos at bay.

EVERYTHING IS GOOD

For art sings of God, and ultimately belongs to him.

We were walking toward the fountain, the epicenter of activity, when an older couple stopped and openly observed us. Robert enjoyed being noticed, and he affectionately squeezed my hand.

"Oh, take their picture," said the woman to her bemused husband, "I think they're artists."

"Oh, go on," he shrugged. "They're just kids."

my life:

therapy:

I'm trying to be brave 'cause when I'm brave other people feel brave but I feel like my heart is caving in

Then i painted your face

On a twenty dollar bill

But it isn't legal tender

And i think about you still

And all the comfort in words

Provide no comfort

We can all go mad together

That's what friends are for

For my own sake there was nothing for me to do but to love you. I knew that if I allowed myself to hate you that in the dry desert of existence over which I had to travel, and am traveling still, every rock would lose its shadow, every palm tree would be withered, every well of water prove poisoned at its source. Are you beginning now to understand a little? Is your imagination awakening from the long lethargy in which it has lain? You know already what hate is. Is it beginning to dawn on you what love is...