c'est la vie

I can feel it, the summer trying to creep in. Shy brown buds on tree tops and a warmth beneath the chill. It’s a cold May but the sun sets later and later these days and I watch the sky turn purple and orange, prismatic.

In the afternoons, I listen to ambient Taoist drone music and lucky girl syndrome subliminals (extreme&brutal). I close my eyes and meditate. I am deep diaphragmatic breathing. I am grief pouring into ecstasy and Bataille’s notion of expenditures and Fisher’s hauntology. I am Debby’s lucky rings and secret twinkling trinkets. I am a beautiful expression of Life, a silver star-shaped balloon, blooming and deflating and spiralling upwards, all at once. I am all at once.

I think of nothing. I try to be stronger than my mind. I try to stop thinking of myself. I want to understand the world, to look beyond who I think I am and into the abyss, into the garden. Pain is boring when it’s only about you. Pain is beautiful when it splits the soul to tell a Truth - namely, we are all connected and blahblahblah. I love this blahblahblah. I live for it and through it.

The kumquat tree we thought was a lime tree has sprouted more fruit. I find obscure philosophy podcasts to listen to on Youtube while I do my makeup. I am dusting my cheeks with Danessa Myrick’s Yummy Skin Blurring Balm Blush to the voices of strangers, strange people, speaking calmly into void-space-internet-world. Home.

And I’m just a girl, braiding my hair and wishing on stars, waiting for God to cross the universe, waiting for the right words.

Are we more of what we do or what we say? I think it’s the former. I’ve set alarms for 9AM and refused to wake. I’ve told people goodbye while I’ve still loved them. I’ve been scared of life but I’ve kept on living.

There is the passage of time and all the weight we acquire the longer we stay here. Like an arrow, borne back and ceaseless, cresting on the wind, cutting through the noise - we keep on. After all, c’est la vie.