omnia mutantur, nihil interit.


sitting alone in a coffee shop. lady day serenading the room. and it scares me how much i love you.

"when the [heart's] impulses move us, none of us can stop their sudden promptings from easily breaking out, and even more easily overflowing into words which are the ever-ready indications of the heart's emotions: as it is written, 'a man's words are spoken from the overflowing of the heart.' i will therefore hold my hand from writing words which i cannot restrain my tongue from speaking; would that a grieving heart would be as ready to obey as a writer's hand!"

wavering down a patch of unpaved ground,
collecting earth & secrets all over my body--
mama, i must remember to trust the dirt
because, mama, i sure know it doesn't forget.

watch carefully. do not blink. i am going to show you something. this is a resurrection. equally an execution as much as a metamorphosis. your skin is hot, but your veins are cold. throw away all maps. get lost. transcend. unveiled mysteries are waiting. whispering. wanting. lift the shutters. this is a time of lightness more blinding than shadowy living.

breath in. can't breath out. hold it until my temples throb hold it until my own chest clutches itself cages itself hold it until my eyes form tunnels swathing all to black hold it until my thoughts cease hold it until my heart stops. for a moment. exhale. exhale. go to sleep.

i woke around 4 a.m. and the first thought that passed through my cortex was an obscure string of five words: "a cluster of vulcan ennui."
i didn't know how to make much sense of it or why it came to me, so i wrote it down and figured i'd revisit after a more thorough rest. my dream afterwards was a vision of my hair sprinkled with a delicate glittter of fire which slowly spread to everything surrounding me. that's all that happened. and when i woke again, i returned to the words. trying to dissect their meaning. the only one i did not know  definition wise was "vulcan" which is apparently the ancient roman god of fire. and as far as astronomy is concerned it's "a hypothetical planet nearest the sun whose existence was erroneously postulated to account for perturbations in mercury's orbit."
anyways, i have yet to make much sense of it. but i always find it so uncanny when these random thought strings flow into me. one of the last one's i remember was a few months ago while i was brushing my teeth stated "the king of chernobyl was four feet tall." i actually did not know what chernobyl was either, and tried to look it up as "trenoble" offering no results. but later i was speaking to my friend about this strange sentence that came to me because i thought it sounded like the start to a silly poem or something and it was absolutely baffling. but another guy heard me and chimed in with a curious interest. apparently he studied the chernobyl nuclear disaster a lot and told me all about it, including the correct spelling. it gripped me for a while. i'm always mesmerized by these happenstance thought occurrences, and figured i'd write about it since i've been up since seven and have nothing better to do in my spiraling dreary state.

so beautiful that i must weep. not by sadness or tragedy, but by a purity. living in the present of anticipatory future. drinking coffee from a large cup, wrapped in a cocoon of reverie. the pulse beating faster. an indescribable melody. anticipatory future. astonishment pulls in soundlessly.

last night's thunder rolling down my marrow. remembering her body electric blue. soft flashes. drawing maps. i'm so consumed. and not even by dreaming, as so often i have. but purely by what is. i've not been writing as often as i used to. which i cannot correctly ascertain as to why. perhaps my present doesn't necessitate the embellishing my past has. i am at a peak. and it is she who is my holy mountain.

so much has happened. i finished my junior year. my girlfriend met my parents. i won second place in a film festival (which was juried by the film curator at the mfah). i'm in the process of applying to universities so that i may transfer. got a potential job offer at one of my favorite thrift stores for the summer. and that is simply to mention the most recent. i haven't even written. i'm so ashamed. because i know my memory evaporates just as easily as these leftover puddles scattered along our southern streets in may. i understand more clearly when i write. even if it's an incoherent flow of mind mush. i must begin again. before too much is left unknown, like a beautiful dream.

this is the shift. sometimes i get really frightened and can't think or move my body. now is one of those moments. the hour glass is embarking upon its last mound of sand. leaking. i haven't slept. my hands are constantly shaking. i can hardly construct my art. it all looks askew and misshapen. i need to calm my body. is this real? are you real? it's too good. and so fast. i am ready. i am willing. but i am afraid. and somehow from within resides a fearless push. an aching wonder and power to prevail.

i'm so helplessly flustered and fragmented. finals are next week. strangely, i'm thriving in inspiration, but i've just no time to exhibit my ideas in a timely manner. so i'm working hastily. and most disjointed. fingers shaking. entire body shaking.

below is a painting of flesh i'm constructing for a series. still wet. collaged images will be mounted on tiny squares, submerged and emerging from it. we'll see how this goes. i'm ready to get out of here. bruised, but ready.

(flesh painting no. 6, acrylic & spray paint on canvas, 2012.)

mindsight dreamlets
plummeting pits
filling up
my stomach--
please poppy
(do not
wilt) stay--
stay sincere

explosions within my heart's moon. foolishly, willing aware forever. gaze out. breath in. i calamity. only supernova sensation. perfection of us. the because i cannot see. breath out. gaze in. i am now experiencing this cosmic dissipation of caution. speckled shackled and submissive. and there will be nothing left in me for the star's control because she's taken it. and i want her to hold it, always. but gaze wise--keeping the clashing resentment of this feeling. then go blindly there. and stand open before it's face. should dark wounds arise, i will myself to carry on debilitated. i will do anything. it's the curse of  falling infinitely. frailly. forever. forever. & ever.

keep catching myself humming her. can't stop. can't sleep.

take the branch of the willow and snap it in your palm. let the sap seep deep and kiss it. spin it delicately in a spiral of winding circles. keep doing this until it disappears. keep doing this until you disappear.

this morning i woke with the most aching sadness. something must've occurred beneath those spells of slumber. but i cannot remember. there is not even a figment of recollection. only blackness. it has now been hours since my waking, but the grip is persistent and unrelenting. there is a heavy helix lingering, knotted in my throat and in the stygian abysm of what i cannot retrieve.

within us eternally resides a delicate recoil, a drawback, a fissure, a parting. as human entities we struggle perilously to fuse those holes which haunt us. though, they are inescapable, it simply is completely inevitable. lost lovers, lost souls, lost identities, forgotten letters, misplaced belongings, vacant dreams—hollows ensue in all existences. it is in the attempts to mend our own molds where we lose ourselves. when instead we should be traversing the openings, embracing the concealed unknowns, perhaps even morphing our psyches in a dark dance with them—rather than battling the endless loop of attempted degenerative obliteration. you & i obtain the power to surpass it all. we must trust the unknown. just remember it did in fact bestow us this present which we have both come to so deeply cherish. just remember. dance. you & i are made of a dream. forever we will float. drifting through lands and heart beats. 11:11.

(our drift, found footage digital collage diptych, 2012)

made of you. and my heart beats through precisely. so helplessly. somehow, so right. somehow. somehow. a little bird flew right inside of me. wings entwined within the vines of my chest. swallowed in a thicket of ivy. she's entangled. i'm debilitated. but so perfectly. and i never saw her coming. i never saw her coming and it all happened so suddenly. it was tragic. it was beautiful. and together we have formed a sculpture. and there is a monument inside my chest. and it is it. and my heart will carry you always, little bird who flew right inside of me. i will forever hold you. i am made of you. somehow. somehow...

i will not succumb to the scum which surrounds me. spirals of sirens, delicate in their unwinding i've once ignored, but now refuse. there is too much vacillating. if i were a glass, i'd have shattered long ago from the frequencies clamoring inside me. it's time. if i don't get gone, destruction is weighing. i'll have a lot to prove, in that there's no denying. but i trust in myself that i will prevail. i just need you to trust me, too. and that i need most of all.











































(come with me, digital collage, 2012) & (something, maybe, digital collage, 2012)

perhaps i'm thinking haphazardly. perhaps, but i must. i've always taken things so cautiously. i've paved my path most sacrificially. but it is now that i am ready to throw caution to the wind. soon i'll be leaving. it's enlivening. for once i feel passionate again. for once i feel all will soon be as i have so many times dreamt of. do trust i understand no future is set in stone, but at least i can sculpt the clay. and so i will. and so will she. and so it goes. and so i go.

straight down cataleptic bone mojo sting of violet hunger choking marrow like razor blade lovebirds. soaring perpetually. orgastic formlessness. i shall not die, i shall dissolve. into you. as if in dreams, in self-oblivion, in intoxication, i do. a paradoxical perceptual weightlessness undescribed in cloud-pale veils or sheets, plunging towards nothing. plunging to put out the moon. because i can't. i can't. and i love her. oh, moon. and you. ...you...still pass me. still possess me. how will you ever fade my relentless reveries. and you still pass me. but a vision. of reality. oh, dissipation and despair. blood and the moon and you. developed under the red blub in the darkroom of my body. submerged in my veins, little photographs. endless photographs transforming. reinforcing. negatives, delicate enamel. endless, i sink. consciousness, you strangle me. eyes, they sink. images, they sink. eaten by dreams, as corpses by worms. you were a maggot weaving wildly, waltzing alone. but you carved holes. from which now roots have taken hold. blossoms from the cuts that made you think you owned me. how foolish. how foolish to let light leak in. yearning for buoyancy and obliteration. wreckage of rafts. plum pit chasms in the depths of me. don't chase desire. let it fester. let it fester. let it sink.

entwined eternally
so fast
it was a beautiful blur