i'm always trapped. if it's not my body, it's the land. if it's not the land, it's my lover. if it's not my lover, it's the moon. but it's always something. maybe i'm trapped because of my incessant need to be free. if i do ever obtain it, i'll have nothing else to dream for. so it's always something. the circle haunts me. and it is this circle that is my destiny. the eyes; a circle. the moon; a circle. the compass; a circle. the rhythm; a circle. death; a circle. you; a circle. everything; a circle. everyone; a circle. all; a circle. infinity; a circle. nothing; a circle. always; a circle. always; a circle. always; a circle. circle of circles.

almost. there. almost. there. almost. there. almost. the constant rushed or lingering presence of time. the invariable needing. the skeletal embrace. ghost flesh memory. this feels familiar. i must have dreamed you before many times. i watched your eyes reflected in mine the night we couldn't touch. sharing the same visions. shaking our heads and speaking without uttering a single word. delicate mental thrusts. i, remembering. we knew. it's crystalline now. inevitably, you.

mesmerism of morphing clouds just the right shade of gray. scrying. waiting. attempting to steady my soul in this quiet solitude. it's hard to say how it happened, or why. only time will tell. for the risk has been made.

in my journal, without thinking i began writing. in french, i wrote,
"parce que. je suis fatiguée. parce que. je suis desolee. et rien. rien à rien. mon amour. mon coeur est manquant."

(self. untitled screenshot, 2012.)

gutter. you could take me. my valves feel like scum--(and i bet they look like you on the inside)

in a
land of
constant pianissimo,
you are
a symphony--
the most
brilliant crescendo.
and i
cannot cease
this tremolo
of you
i'm holding
inside me.

black. the black consumes the way black circles. on nothing nothing remembrances. heart. utterly black numb looking. full between. and the full soul vacant of vacant is too beat. secret. nothing and moonwhite between. heart. heart. must beat. beat. black who echos between. must be between. is the of between. i of interior inseparable and so shadows sleep. i sleep. had eyes. crying. us! inseparable and crying. had deserted the eyes. everything. to you and of you. of slipped sleep. the sleep. we knew the way to the interior. shadows of interior i couldn't photograph. crying. you interior. over our game. inseparable shadows hid and so i knew we were a photograph. we hid everything. o, slipped shadows, sleep. sweet waking. in eyes of a sleepy no-life. everywhere. the diminishing head. and dreams. blank. brainwashed. diminishing days, obsolete eyes everywhere. light of directions. death. waking all the stars. like the sleeplessness. dreams. and brainwashed of sleepy disease. worn-out with memories. life everywhere. eyes sticky of memories. tell breath my pointless swallow is invalid. tell breath i want to be a cloud bank.

i feel so unbearably detached. i haven't been able to write as i used to. time vanishes and i become trapped in its loop. my thoughts are erratic and perpetual, though hardly satisfactory. today everything was mucked. the weatherwoman announced our atmospheric region would be reaching the temperature high of 86, but all day my body succumbed to constant states of shivering. the sky was one solid sheet of gray-hued periwinkle emoting indiscernible sensations of empty. vacancies are dangerous terrains. when starring into nothingness, minds are bound to map the most delusory paths. projections of swollen clouds. swollen existences. swollen heart valves. the rhythm of our swollen world. energies clamoring. everything ceasing. abysses. abysses. and never truly knowing what it truly is to know.

sometimes. because sometimes. so sometimes.

i feel suddenly lost wandering amid mucky puddles of introversion. it's the good kind of lost. the psyche misplacement we all once in awhile should traverse through. i cannot yet tell if it 's some faulty neurotransmission due to lazy synapse firing or purely my own eyelids' lack of rest. likely both, and a deathly mix. the following photos are documentation and result of what transpires during this period of mind rewiring. i desperately need to brew some tea.

our tangibility is transient.
our love is eternal.

in 33 minutes i'll be calling her. she will rise from bed, not by the sun, but my voice. she will board a plane and float through the clouds and waking earth towards me. shortly after which i'll navigate the freeways as arteries towards her. in less than 8 hours we will embrace. then she'll sit beside me as so many times imagined, vacantly. and we'll have breakfast and gaze heavily with hearts beating. in less than 24 hours i will reach 21 years of existing here. all of which i haven't really been here. i'm only grounded 11% of the time, the rest i'm in a constant state of dreaming. even when awake. roughly 5 hours or so after gracing this passage, her and i will travel back in time where my family will embrace her for the first time at their quaint coffee shop abode. after which we will take to each other and roam lands full of foliage and love, at the end of the night sleeping beneath a blanket of the brightest stars. the next day we will travel back and keep to ourselves as much as able. cherishing every parcel of the other. every piece of stardust. until she must lastly part. and i'll fall back to dreaming. counting persian moonflowers as i weep.

a man stopped me in my dream. he said, drawn out heavy and shaking, "i've never seen a girl with eyes so blue." foreboding terror reverberated through me as his body froze then shattered abruptly into a pool of golden glitter. immediately, i turned. but was confronted to a world constructed only of mirrors. with my eyes holding in them the unimaginable combined depth of every sea man has come to know. i woke screaming, smashing any reflective surface i could perceive. there was blood everywhere. my heart began to lose sense of its beating. i collapsed to my death. the man entered through my door. he walked forward and began to laugh. this time his eyes were hollow and he began howling in reach for my body. he felt for my face and sliced his fingers on the glass flooded floor. it did not stop him. he grew weak, then in a final stretch plunged his trembling fingers down into my eyes. his hysterics rattled the shards against one another. in a sudden forceful scoop he gouged out my eyes. his hands rose swiftly to place them within his sockets. they suctioned with ease, but he suddenly felt himself drowning. he looked to the world for the first time, and in that same moment had too killed himself from obtaining eyes of such deep sorrow.

through my window waking near-life portal, twisted limbs and lazy wrecked transcriptions of supernova heart consumption. it is a vast and tangled void i have dreamed you through. doomed eyes locked in an astral paralysis of levitating perceptions. only you posses the potion. only you have seen the night as i. only you. only you.



(photograph. view from my window. night. january 18, 2012.)

i am relieved that i do not commence school on the morrow (or today, rather, i suppose) as i was thinking i did. thank you, martin luther king. though i will start classes tuesday. i'll be at school from 8:00am to 7:00pm with no breaks and my last class of the day being some sort of contrived math course which i've never even heard of before enrolling. then on mondays and wednesdays i have one more class, but it begins at 1:00 in the afternoon--thereby leaving me no chance of parking, so i'll be forced to arrive on the lot no later than 9:00am, anyways. maybe i'll start going to the gym to pass the segment of time. i'm so afraid of my schedule. and i'm utterly terrified of block classes starting up again. but all the while my mind is heavily elsewhere. only twenty-five days remain until i am able to see my darling shayda again. this longing has its hold.

a sudden surge of pressure has all at once encapsulated me. i feel as though a vast fire has begun raging within my skull and my eyes are trapped in a state of constant heavy throbs. i need this segment of my life to vanish. fastforward. i need to be transported. or else i need the cosmos to pause so that my pulse is lastly able to catch up to the stars. i've been traveling against the wind for much too long. and the moon knows how hard i've tried to be free.

i've experienced this dream three nights in a row. the most powerful premonition. it has come from a forward time far further within our lives. the simplicity is what makes it so weighty for me. seeing as my visions are typically not entirely the most pleasant of experiences. but in this, everything is lastly as it should be. lastly as we have been so long waiting for. yearning for. all is worth what is to come. i promise you, all is worth what is to come. this i have grown to know and hold.

last year i accomplished my resolution. the initial result stung through my spirit for a while, but i ended freer than ever before. last night i had not thought much about conjuring up one at the clock's strike of twelve, seeing as i already felt so fulfilled--that is until a new acquaintance ignited a potential prospering. it would be an internally troubling voyage, but one i've been needing to board for quite some time now. recently vast opportunities have been floating my way, and as they do, i find my own soul beginning to drift. i fear too much. i criticize myself brutally. i hardly take chances. and it has hindered my aura from obtaining its true luminescence. today my tarot reading reinforced and encouraged such an awakening. so, this is where i begin. juste comme ça.

i've never not been able to write about something. though, this, by far, has been the most trying. i've been avoiding writing, reminiscing, dreaming. reality is reigning. her smell lingers. clutching the luggage i've hesitated to unpack. the entire trip seemed to be a film of unsurpassed beauty. and i sincerely wish it had been recorded because the reels of my memory are constantly withering. it was two and a half years of unknowing. it's been one week since parting. 62 days left until reuniting. i miss her. i miss everything.

i remember waking in the morning, rushing to ready. blood attempting to navigate its way within the endless anxiety. i put on a scarf and hurriedly shoved my belongings in the back of a rusty green camero. he passed me the keys, said, "you're driving, kiddo." i adjusted the seat, and we went on our way. the highway was nearly vacant. feeling free as my father handed me slices of grapefruit as pink as the sky in midst of its very own metamorphosis. seeing the airport against the hazy horizon. parking. removing my bags and entering the shuttle full of travelers. we were off. gate C. security check-point. pass. seated. waiting. too nervous for coffee. pen. teddy bear. stand-by clear. window seat. boarding. thumbs trembling the text. see you soon. lift-off. clouds. maps. irrigation. mountains. empty land. little houses. colored roofs. gray skies. turbulence. circular rainbows. shadow. runway. land. phone. four texts. she's on her way. heart pounding. not ready. exit. gate 10. walk. "metro/baggage claim." restroom. mirror. breaths. walk back. illuminated map. call. calm. fright. fancy restaurant. christmas tree. don't see it. walk. stop. turn around. still in security. walk. exit. donut shop. christmas tree. can't do it. she saw me. can't see her. fear. christmas tree. waiting. hiding. where are you? can't do it. calm. descriptions of people passing. father, blue raincoat, son, holding hands. woman, heavy set, brown bags. deep breath. walking. scanning. her energy. spotted. curled inside a silver phone booth. slow motion. walking. her aura. her eyes. her voice. hide. window. reflections. staring. speaking. surreal. not happening. knee touch. hands. embrace. never letting go.

(note: this post will be quite lengthy by the time i'm finished writing about the trip. it took me this long. and for now i must stop here, adding occasionally. i can only do this for so long without too much longing taking hold)

brave women. fumes of poetry. they are not entities, but drugs. dreams. struggling to engulf each other. everything they touch morphs to myth. a blunder of psychic blindness. tender muted telepathy. whisper to me your hidden lust. it is now. it is now. it is how. it is now. my lover. my flower. my mystic poet of desire. i no longer hide you. i no longer hide anything at all. this is not an awakening. this is a slumber of transgressed depth. eternal distortion. eternal daze. eternal embrace. brave women. brave women. my lover. my dream. luminous and warm. gentle. tattered. holy. beat.

insomnia is no good for dreamers...