i'm being dishonest. this spiral is eternal. an exasperating unsynchronized drift. and no matter how far i diverge, it's as though something stronger perpetually compels me to return.

a new madness has has consumed all coherency. mania. a fixation overpoweringly more solid than any other i've found myself traverssing within--which frightens me greatly. this has transpired previously under spells of an eerily similar luring--though so suddenly now i’m being pulled with an even greater intensity. there are these currents of seeming electricity swelling and sending countless vibrations, caressing each vein. i am awake, though existing as if in dream. an unprompted ecstasy has encompassed me once again. complete euphoric transcendence. whenever we cross paths, even when envisioned by means of unconscious serendipity, i cannot express what occurs other than an absolute pureness. a radiance. a known. a mesmeric magnetism, unsurpassed.

inexplicably infatuated. a note for my own records of reminiscing--if love at first sight truly exists, it occurred on this day. smitten and genuinely lovesick. this is going to be no good...

forever you knew.

this is it. this is the embrace we've been so tirelessly yearning for. energies entwined within eternal. there is a an untouched stillness, a serenity, now meshing amidst refreshed vibrations and sherbet clouds. the most supreme fusion. i sense the matching rhythms. the visions. we’ve been composing such delicate crescendos. for once, all feels whole--you, across from me with yesterday’s cold pizza and the sun setting on your sleepy forehead.

eyes glazed, longing to be stardust. dark matter. i used to caress the night--now i lay strangled by it. asphyxiated. why did i descend? what in you compelled me?
i'm only haunted because nothing will ever be unveiled.

i collapsed last night into dream without warning. but woke gently--just floated back through consciousness, still shut and stagnant, imposing a fading afterimage in the ever black pools. i pressed my ring finger into a crevice of stitching and slowly drew it up to my brow, tracing continuous unhurried circles around eyelids. eventually i rose, appearing before two large mirrors obstructed with melting morning light where i assessed my form and last night's unwashed makeup, lips stained and smudged eyes. i sat stoic, seemingly in a mind of no mind. but then suddenly it was as though all at once i was wedged in a sort of paradox, peering amid feelings of freshness and filth wherein i frenziedly grappled for grime's secreted immaculacy.

"the frightening experience i am traversing now is this: with her i am acting out scenes which prove, in the end, the strength and vividness of my memories and fantasies superimposed over reality. it is such a subtle, elusive happening, that i cannot describe it. it is as if i see and hear you clearly for a while and then become drunk, confused, drugged. and all the time a part of me is aware of the distortions. it is frightening because it causes self-doubt, a doubt of what i have always believed in: my intuition."

--anaïs nin (spring, 1957)

juste arrêtez
juste arrêtez
juste arrêtez
juste arrêtez
juste arrêtez
juste arrêtez

a luminous instant submerged within ritualistic sensations of dissonance. fields of fallen blackbirds. broken smokey crystal eyes. rainbow refraction. slippery lucidity. returning ambiguity. so gone. so gone. so gone. take me.

darling, i surrender.

muses, eternal--
my mapplethorpe is saccharine.