an attractive receptacle for my insanity

homenaje to the overlapping hilos of time

Tonight Aaron gave me my 2012 horoscope on University Avenue in San Diego. Aaron, you have not offended me. You have delighted me with your gorgeous eyelashes and tipsy sincerity, you are so handsome. These are for you:

Nonadaptation

I was not made to live anywhere except in Paradise.

Such, simply, was my genetic inadaptation.

Here on earth every prick of a rose-thorn changed into a wound.
whenever the sun hid behind a cloud, I grieved.

I pretended to work like others from morning to evening,
but I was absent, dedicated to invisible countries.

For solace I escaped to city parks, there to observe
and faithfully describe flowers and trees, but they changed,
under my hand, into the gardens of Paradise.

I have not loved a woman with my five senses.
I only wanted from her my sister, from before the banishment.

And I respected religion, for on this earth of pain
it was a funereal and a propitiatory song.

--Czeslaw Milosz

wild horses by mazzy star

love letter to an anonymous future lover written on october 23, 2001 in iowa city

Darling,

Do you think--no. You must not think you are the only person who feels lonely. Like an overlooked genius far from her temperate climate. No. We are not the only people who find it difficult moving around in our skin, trying to make our own skin adapt to this stupid new world. Can't do that though. Here, our skin is the only thing we have--the only thing we share a story with. We can't recreate it. That would be suicide. No, we don't have the only aching arms or the only cold pillows or the only inside jokes between ourselves and ourselves. We aren't the only ones who daydream.

Love,

J.F.

she feeds me tea and oranges

running scared by nick cave and the bad seeds

self sabotage | egatobas fles

the lion's roar by first aid kit

cut off my legs, papantla

o leaozinho by beirut

grace

lord keep me day by day by the caravans