#threads; with leviathan; ship to wreck | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

oceansrevenge · 2 years ago

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TIMING: Current PARTIES: @faustianbroker & @oceansrevenge SUMMARY: Your typical sea monster meet-cute or something. Marina happens upon Leviathan swimming in the ocean and unfortunately for boaters, the two had a great time.

There was nothing in the world that compared to the open sea. The motion of the waves, even on a calmer day, soothed Marina in ways no tank ever could. No matter how meticulously the water was monitored to ensure her survival, it didn’t have the pull of the tides or small crevices to squeeze into while she slept. Since escaping the glass prison, she simply couldn’t get enough time in the ocean. Every cephalopod protected and in her presence helped return the strength that had been taken from her, healed the aches in all but her hearts. The feeling of strength in her tentacles had her craving one of her favorite pastimes. It had been too many years since her tentacles had wrapped around in a ship and sunk it to the ocean floor.

The summertime months were filled with various vessels venturing into waters that were not theirs to explore and Marina longed to sink them all, but today, she would start with one. Test her strength and affinity with these new waters. She swam swiftly through waves as searched and finally laid eyes upon a vessel filled with humans with their phones out. There was a slightly satisfied curve to her mouth as she raced ahead, only to feel something else in the water swimming in the same direction. Something that mirrored her in size and intensity. She stopped in her place and laid eyes upon one of the most stunning creatures she’d ever seen. It had a dragonesque look that reminded her of tales the other nereides back home had told of sea monsters like the kraken and the Leviathan and it had a pale turquoise glow around some of its parts. It was remarkable. Would it like to toy with the humans in the same way she did or would it consider her a foe? It was decidedly not fae, the familiar chiming feeling under her skin wasn’t present and it was not one of her cephalopods. It was a risk and it was thrilling. She approached more slowly, wonder present in her eyes. “Wow,” her deep voice vibrated through the water, “You magnificent creature. What are you?” She didn’t expect a response, but she was curious to see what it did next.

—

Some days Leviathan wanted nothing more than to return to the sea from which it had come, but it had things keeping it here, now. People. Besides, that sea was decidedly more lonely than this one, and so the demon often compromised by spending a day or two shifted and in the water until it felt ready to return to the human life that waited for it.

This was one of those days, and Leviathan swam lazily through the water, fully aware that it had wandered into the path of one of the vessels from its tourism business, figuring that it might as well give some lucky bastards a show while it was in the area.

But… huh. What was that? Many pairs of eyes flicked this way and that as its great, frilled head turned in the water, massive clawed and webbed feet pawing at the water to turn the serpentine body in a tight formation.

Behind it was… whoa. Whoa. That giant mouth hung open in surprise at the sight of the… the what, exactly? Octopus… person. Fae? Had to be. It didn’t know of anything that looked like that, and fae were probably the most diverse species in appearance.

I am the Leviathan, it answered honestly, voice sounding in her head and hers alone as it swam a little closer. Its heart thudded against its ribcage, gills flaring and bubbles erupting from its snout. What are you?

—

The way its voice reverberated through her mind made it feel as if its words were a song meant only for her. If Marina were to hazard a guess based on the clarity, she was almost certain that the words were for her and her alone to hear. There was a certain thrill to that, one that made her confident that its words were true and she was truly swimming before the Leviathan itself. And it was a thing of beauty. She wanted to see it in action, live the many stories she had heard of its antics. Her imagination surely could not do it justice.

“Your words are true,” she stated plainly, her eyes still carefully monitoring its movements. As if taking in every small detail of its form, the way its gills moved, and the way she felt the change in the currents changing path around the large creature would commit it to memory with flawless clarity. “Leviathan,” she repeated softly, intrigue clear in her voice even under the water.

The Leviathan was a legend, one she remembered telling tales of to Eula when she was just a young little thing. That thought added another layer of longing, one mixed with an ache that her sweet girl didn’t get to experience this moment of wonder alongside her. The memory still stood, Leviathan was the thing of legends and she would not slight it by leaving it waiting for an answer. “I’m a nereid,” she offered, “You may call me Marina.”

Somehow, she had the feeling her name would sound something akin to the symphonies inspired by muses hearing it echoed in her own head in the voice of the beautiful sea serpent. A tentacle tentatively extended toward the demon, unable to help herself, but not foolish enough to show the creature anything but the utmost respect that its notoriety commanded. “May I?”

—

Marina… its voice vibrated through her head once more, swelling and bursting like waves crashing through the entrance of a sea cave. Its many eyes danced to the tentacle she extended, and if that great, toothy maw could have cracked into a smile, it would have. Yes. Even in this body, it craved all the same things it had grown accustomed to by living among humans, and touch was top of the list. And to be touched by such a magnificent creature of the sea, well… that was simply a bonus.

It swam closer, serpentine body coiling behind it as it leaned into the grasp of her many arms, clearly welcoming the closeness that it brought. She was small compared to it, but Leviathan still marveled at her size. I have never seen one like you, it mused, claws dragging lightly across her body as it admired the form. You are very beautiful, Marina. Marina… The voice now rumbled almost as if it were laughing, a theory backed up by the way its jaws parted and its head lolled as it pressed its snout against her. All those aquamarine eyes closed and the beast coiled tighter, basking in the effortless and mutually respectful connection that had been forged in an instant. If only it were always this easy.

—

Had her own name ever sounded quite so beautiful? The way it flowed and ebbed through her so that she could feel every syllable, feel the wondrous way in which this legendary being regarded her. If Marina hadn’t already been thoroughly taken with the magnificent creature, she would have been in that moment— instead, something akin to affection swelled through her that only grew when Leviathan leaned into her touch. The sensation of its skin was rough and she could feel its power. The very maw that danced into her touch could destroy even her and there was something exhilarating in that fact.

There was a wave of pride in her. The Leviathan found her form beautiful and its appreciation showed in the gentle way its claws moved across her skin. Marina could hardly believe something so large, so powerful, could have such a light touch. She hummed in contentment. There was something especially thrilling in the promise of pain the sharp claws held despite the soft way they grazed her form. “And you are absolutely stunning,” she practically sang, leaning into its form as it looped and coiled around her, “What beautiful destruction you must be capable of.”

Tentacles with a mind all their own, followed delicately across the demon to bask in its affection. Marina already felt a sense of adoration for it, one that normally only came so easily for other fae, but this creature so embodied the ocean that it was easy to feel at home in its touch. Her eyes drifted towards the vessel in the distance and she gave the creature a small nudge. “Perhaps you could show me,” she said deviously, low voice carrying in the water.

—

Head turning in the direction she’d indicated, Leviathan let out a low, gurgling laugh. You know I would love to, it thrummed, but that vessel actually belongs to me. Looking back at her, it cocked its head to the side. Still. I will happily show you what I am capable of, Marina. You need only follow…

Uncoiling from around her, the massive beast started a swim deeper out to sea, listening for the roar of engines. While it could travel at frightening speeds, it kept the pace leisurely, instead enjoying the feeling of swimming in a spiral around the nereid, brushing its scales against her body.

If she was this gorgeous looking like herself, it could only wonder what her human disguise might look like. If she had one of those: it wouldn’t fault her if not. The ocean was a far more preferable place to be, after all.

I have a home among them. For entertainment, mostly—this town provides plenty of that. You are always welcome, should you feel the urge to venture onto dry land. The house is on a beach, so there isn’t much arid travel required.

A far off rumbling met its ears and the demon gestured with a jerk of its head. There we are. It was one of the big ones that hauled shipping containers full of god knows what—amazon packages, probably—overseas. A sizable boat, but nothing that the demon’s powerful jaws couldn’t rip through. As they approached the ship’s powerful propellers, Leviathan placed itself below Marina, eyes growing dark as pupils expanded in excitement. I like going for the propellers, it explained, they tickle. But, ladies first, if you like.

—

Bubbles seemed to surround them as the Leviathan seemingly laughed and there was something strangely endearing about it. Many stories of it had been told from the limited viewpoint of humans who were terrified of it and had painted it as a terrifying monster. Marina had no doubt that it could inspire terror in the hearts of many, but there was something so delightfully playful in the way it coiled around her and how she could feel its chuckle shifting the current around them ever so slightly. “Curious,” she thought aloud, letting her tentacles brush against its scales as it unwound itself from around, “I would not dream of destroying anything that is yours.” As much was true and not only because even she looked small next to its massive form. No, there was a kindred nature— a connection she couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t the same humming of bells under her skin she felt in the presence of other fae, but the feeling brought its own kind of warmth.

“Lead the way,” Marina hummed, eager to follow alongside it. She had the feeling they could both swim faster, it likely considerably moreso, but the relaxed swim held its own magic to it. The way the great creature spiraled around her in a way that allowed them to brush each other every so often. It was an all encompassing experience that only became more so when its voice swam through her mind again. Even more curious. It had to have a human disguise, one she was almost certain could not hold a candle to the beauty it possessed now, but she wanted to see it all the same. She wanted to know where it fit into the human world and perhaps what it could teach her in that regard.

“A home and a boat,” Marina wondered aloud. The more human-like arm of her form reached out toward it and her fingers stroked its scales as it made another loop around her. A quiet show of acceptance as she gathered her thoughts. “You divert expectations,” she finally said, “I appreciate the invitation and will likely take you up on it.” She paused briefly. “I have matters on land to attend to.”

For now, Marina would leave it at that. Discussing her business with the humans meant letting her thoughts drift to the circumstances that inspired her vendetta. The glass tank. The isolation. Eula.

No, this particular moment was a bright one that didn’t need to be marred with thoughts of vengeance and rage. Marina could carry the happier memories of her daughter with her and let this experience be what it was— something beautiful, magical. As much became all too easy when she could hear and feel its voice again. Her skin flashed from its normal orange to an inky black before finally fading into a light brown. Somewhere alongside its voice, a laugh from her memory rang clear, too. Her own shortly followed.

“Ach nai,” Marina let slip in her native tongue, before slipping back to the English they had been conversing in, “Surely just a tickle for one with such thick skin.” The powerful propellers on the vessel likely wouldn’t be quite as kind to her. Instead, she watched the vessel momentarily and focused on the movement of the water. Her eyes flit shut as she allowed herself to fully feel the current and tides, let herself become fully one with them. When her eyes fluttered back open, they gazed upon the ship. She willed the water to form waves larger and choppier than they were previously on such a clear day. The water was happy to oblige and the boat began to rock slightly. That was her moment.

Marina drew in closer toward the ship and reached a couple of tentacles out to grab along some of its side railings. Paired with the motion of the water, she was able to gain enough leverage to violently jerk the vessel from side to side, sending a few of its crew over and into the water. She was quick to wrap a tentacle around one of the trashing humans and pull it under the surface with her as she moved closer to Leviathan. “I have a few humans to drown,” she spoke, “That’s my favorite part.” If she had been wearing her human visage, a devious grin would have painted her features. “Your turn. Show me your worst.”

—

Watching delightedly as the nereid commanded the water to do her bidding, Leviathan flexed its claws and flared its gills, now itching to take a bite of the vessel itself. It paced in the water, if you will, swimming to and fro as the massive nymph sent men hurtling overboard and into the stormy waters, where she snatched one up, ignoring his struggling and muted screams as he tried to claw himself free of her grip.

Damn. That was pretty hot.

My worst, my worst… Its worst would require a different form. Larger, more lethal than this gentle cruiser. But that was easily done. Of course, Marina. Diving deeper, the demon opened its jaws as wide as it could, and something began to emerge from them. Tentacles, not unlike her own but scaled up considerably. They writhed and grasped the side of its great head, ripping the lower jaw off of the body. A split ran down the beast’s side, clouding the water down deep with blood, and something burst forth. Impossibly large when compared to the vessel it was vacating, unfolding like it had been vacuum sealed inside. It looked different, lacking in clawed appendages and with an enormous mouth like a lamprey—a gaping, circular opening lined with hundreds of jagged teeth. Once it was free of the gore of its former body, it sped toward the surface and crashed against the underside of the cargo ship with enough force to launch it out of the water about twenty feet. Its tentacles wrapped up and around the ship, circling it fully as that horrific mouth clamped down on the propellers. They groaned and stuttered before being ripped from their bearings, and the rear of the ship dipped low, the upper deck sinking a few feet beneath the water. Leviathan opened its maw wide, tentacles gathering at the end of the ship nearest its head, making it tilt at an even more extreme angle—and the desired effect was realized as a few of the crewmen fell, screaming, into the sea monster’s jaws.

—

There was a hum in the currents as Marina watched the creature change into something bigger, something far more terror inducing but somehow even more beautiful. It carried into her hearts which pulsed with excitement as she watched the change and delighted over the inclusion of tentacles in this form. A deep laugh rang around her as she watched its massive maw go straight for the propeller. She imagined a mirror of a tickling sensation in her own beak, knowing full well the massive propellers would be more than a tickle for her. The way its tentacles wrapped around the ship and the loud crunch it made under its grasp had to be one of the most amazing things she had the fortune of seeing.

Then the Leviathan was holding the ship at an angle, letting its crew fall into its jaws, and she knew those humans would never see the light of day again. Marina was giddy at the thought. It was magnificently destructive, a show to let the humans know they weren’t welcome here. The demon had taken her favorite pastime and made it into something even bigger, even deadlier, and it made her feel warm in a way she hadn’t in decades.

“Brilliant,” Marina encouraged. She practically danced around the wreckage, grabbing wayward crewman who hadn’t quite made it into the Leviathan’s late afternoon snack and pulled them under. Some were easier to pull down than others, she took her time with the ones who trashed against her grip. One, two… a dozen? In the excitement, it was hard to keep count.

“Such quick work of it,” Marina awed, “With a flair for the dramatics. I approve.” More than approved, she craved more. She could watch it swim and rip things apart for hours, but she longed to see its human disguise too— perhaps become better acquainted with it. It could create such carnage and wreckage with ease and lived amongst the humans from time to time. The Leviathan was a curious creature and this show only left her only more awestruck.

—

Satisfied with its work, Leviathan dragged the ship below the surface with those massive appendages and slithered along the bottom of it, distributing its weight more or less evenly on each end of the ship before gripping tightly and ripping. The vessel cracked in half and began its descent to the sea floor where it would, in time, create a new reef. Whatever humans were still aboard, huddled in their hiding spots, would make food for the predators that were already headed this way.

I am glad to hear that, the demon responded to Marina’s approval, moving her way again, its sheer mass shifting the currents around it and nearly pushing her about. And I am glad to see you… have enjoyed yourself. If it had had a mouth capable of smirking, it would have done so.

If you have business among humans… I’d like to show you where you can find me up there. Wasn’t the only thing it wanted to show her, but that didn’t need saying. Yet.

—

There was always something satisfying about watching human-made vessels sink. Slowly, it’d be pulled to the ocean’s floor and be reclaimed by the life there. Algae and corals would grow on the surface, smaller fish would swim through it and make it their own. Larger predators would find meals in the remaining humans abroad. For all they took from the ocean, in moments like these, they were giving back. Marina found satisfaction in her waters reclaiming something so large. It’d soon be home to many more deserving and she found it easy to bear affection for the creature who made it possible. In such a stunning display, the kind sailors of older days wrote shanties about.

“I’ve most certainly enjoyed myself,” she hummed, “And I’m glad you got a good meal out of the endeavor.” In so many ways, the demon embodied the ocean that its form was suited to it. It was capable of great destruction like the waves in a storm, but had a certain whimsy about it, too. The kind that made the sea enchanting and the subjects of poems and paintings, century after century. Just like its voice in her mind, the shift in the water as it moved toward her again felt all encompassing. As it neared her, she reached toward its tentacles, not asking this time before feeling them against hers. Even with her own considerably large size, her tentacles seemed so small in comparison. It didn’t scare her. Intuitively she knew Leviathan would do her no true harm, but the fact that it could was thrilling.

“It’s as if you read my mind,” Marina responded, her hands brushing along some of the seafoam colored accents in its scales, “Though I have no intention of ruining such a wonderful day with business as such. I had… more exploratory endeavors in mind.” This form, while far superior to the glamour she wore, didn’t quite allow for the same expressive mannerisms. She hoped the emphasis on certain words served the same purpose as a smirk or the strange winking thing that humans did. Her fingers traced its scales a moment longer before gesturing ahead, “Lead the way.”

#wr writing #wickedswriting #wr leviathan #threads; with leviathan; ship to wreck

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gplewis · 6 years ago

Text

cutting 10 single-spaced pages circa July 2017

if any of this is offensive, please let me know

my voice is changing the stuff before is now not enough I don’t admire it I won’t ship it this isn’t ancient I am not hard to find until I’m gone Of course I live to write, to sniff the highs and lay the path to them help others get higher than they knew they could get of course I should spend days trying to find the heights, seeking, pushing where the edge is

typing something else is the only way out is this “the hole of despair”? Will I ever come back here? Will it ever be a thrill to relive yesterday’s hope and pain? Won’t I always have enough hope and pain to deal with without sourcing more?

I like it her hand on mine breathing together do I love it? Why yes, sure, of course, how could you not?

a man alone deciding some things life only moves so fast the movie film has slowed down only slow-motion car wrecks from here on out

put my heart on here paint with my blood proof of heaving

I took aim at her soul gave all sang clear, forming my most capable sounds I miss you so much already

explicitness rising

endless temptation of watching things far away we can’t control unfold endless temptation to study and worry and analyze and reflect and implement endless process improvement endless sourcing, recruiting, hiring and on boarding endless email, project updates, keeping people on the same page endless teaching, editing, correcting, explaining, allowing endless decision-making, thousands and millions and billions and trillions forever endless paper trail leading up to this moment

Write until you stop Her apron around my neck and waist I used fire. She watched from the stool with a cat in her lap. We divided the labor: she shopped and chopped

If I can't have you I'll Command simple language Populate my notebooks

keep building it out she was a fork in the electric quilt she unleashed a good virus bacteria termites tearing through the fabric, entering the spool, becoming the thread

I held her head against my breast and kissed her hair

"He really liked her."

I am the timeless soul that longs for the sea and the sky Palm tree stomach laying on my bed From lover to lover and coast to coast Solitude is Bliss Juggled hearts fall and break I don't know how to cut thoughts short I let my insides run outside on and on Trail of guts, a bloody pulp lurching Fingernails tapping on the table outside the cafe where she lay her hand on my wrist and she looked just like she did in her picture. It came true—here it was—and now it's going away but not before you take the mental picture and develop it for days, pricking the stinger in and out, mixing blood and venom, becoming part bee so pain never hurts again. Seal up childhood wounds Pour cement in the mouths of fish

Our eye contact Magnetism spun the earth round and cool Lost and found in breathing as one Pieces of the same Leviathan

everyone's destiny is known only a few of the nonwhite colors will make it past the next downsizing? as it was ordained by the planet, according to Guns, Germs and Steel, I suppose...Europeans were always gonna run the jewels and tables

“The spring is wound up tight. It will uncoil of itself. That is what is so convenient in tragedy. The least little turn of the wrist will do the job . . . The rest is automatic. You don’t need to lift a finger. The machine is in perfect order; it has been oiled ever since time began, and it runs without friction . . . Tragedy is clean, it is restful, it is flawless . . . In a tragedy, nothing is in doubt and everyone’s destiny is known. That makes for tranquility . . . Tragedy is restful; and the reason is that hope, that foul, deceitful thing, has no part in it. There isn’t any hope. You’re trapped.” ― Jean Anouilh, Antigone

rubbing and smoothing her into eternity a brushed nickel pillow hammered on top of the stave from God’s light to the center of the Big Bang what happens in our eye contact is the original universe

looking back is endless going forward is endless I am reminding myself of everything I carry with me all the time; will gladly trade the time it takes to write 2k words in order to be solid and known to myself going into the next moment of interaction with nature—to enter the realm of trees and chemicals and get baked, sautéed with grill marks at the hands of my neural and socioeconomic fate: gorgons in Europe mined up ore and set across to conquer the other side of the ocean so Menlo Park could be wrought in steel and the Silicon Valley sprouted in time to catch America post-liquidity meltdown. All of a sudden, everyone looked up and neither money nor government had any authority over life as people were living it on the ground in their neighborhoods

social credit trumps all what people will actually do trumps all

why are you making it so hard for you? why not let someone in who can make it easier to live? i can help you suffer less; I want desperately to figure out how I can provide bounce and barrier so you can live your best life. I'm not afraid to give up the possibility of other women. There is nothing desirable about potential fitness. We are the best fit I could hope for. It's right here for you! Take it! The toil can be over. I won't let you down.

the problem is no one is strapped for stories and no one needs mine a diet of more than corruption, injustice and needed activism

my question for Erin Rose: why would you do this to both of us? you don't have to. you don't owe him anything.

no matter how dim it gets, I never quit working making sure my voice is still there making sure I can still hear myself making sure I'm still awake

I remain with the same road ahead of me, the capacity for courage is slightly enhanced and conditions have changed so moving forward has little to do with what has been laid behind; there will always be more behind than at hand at the moment; the moment is full of history but no time to think about all of it my heart is the whole fire; I ought seek no starter

life destroyed you? get quiet—work https://thoughtcatalog.com/jamie-varon/2015/02/be-alone/

fascinated and anguished by Erin Rose: a true sad story that's still bloody and wheezing on the page I guess, what is dating? mate selection then what? child-bearing, child-rearing, child-financing, daily-life-surviving, driving, scheduling, preparing, coordinating, cleaning and then there's laughing, teaching, seeing, watching, reflecting on life and God now that I am no longer the center of my life: she is. The kids are.

the goal of technology should be to let people focus on closeness with each other; community, ridding loneliness and approaching nirvana where identity summons achievement, i.e. mission-driven days and nights, saving up progress in databases in addition to hearts Agile community-building

the sky and I making jokes together faded, chipped paint on the floor sewer covers engraved with names I read them. I read everything. I survey the world

the world is buck wild it might be that soon, all is easy maybe once white supremacists die and the proper ones lose their power traditional power offers little

No government handouts!

death and anarchy go on happening while I engage in creative personal relationship-building with human beings who aren't me; also making money and building trusting professional relationships; filling out my name with a real-world in-brain, in-person narrative for me I can lean into later

turn up the air piano finger joints and cartilage doing work

I brought this laptop battery and keyboard so I'm going to trade available seconds and melt it down; match again the passage of time with a rhythm of compilation: compiling cords of wooden awareness into rafts I can float down later

train 151 is cancelled due to vehicle strike train 155 will accommodate all passengers expect delays and crowded trains

"The Democrats" don't need to do anything. All chess pieces are being moved into position as we speak.

to conceive is to conceive of a design, a plan but you just woke from a dream you see through only a crack in the window who are you to know a thing about what will or should happen? what do you know beyond the pain and conflict of the heartbeat you're on?

Nothing needs to happen. Attachment is suffering.

wait and enjoy ^ my strategy

the disappointment of incompatibility, misunderstanding and benign neglect and error will consume my analytic energy for the rest of my life; having written it may not be enough; being married to writing is easy for me, already mostly conquered; nothing is really wrong except my emotional satisfaction

as I age, I am turned more toward my emotional wellbeing and logistical security

not conflicted about work conflicted about world affairs but in a private way; open to make my thinking public but taking power away from entrenched human interests is hard work daily done by good people against tyranny

selfish oppressive tyrants have the eyes of history on them now they are a laughing stock and have nothing worth having beyond fabulous medical care and paid time off not having to work and not having to be sick and die would be nice for them if they had the heart to enjoy it

wealth is wasted on the douchey https://eand.co/why-do-americans-revere-the-rich-e2bef3781a35

we had a perfectly great thing right there; we held it in our hands; we had it; it could not be even though we had it; she was tempted by the specter of what could be great - she threw away perfectly great for potentially great; why? The math doesn't make sense. She did the labor of getting over it; switching and hoping and having an excuse is easier than sitting still with what you've got until you get tired jumping fences

{ if (not tired of jumping fences) then jump fence(); }

only surprising lines from me

articulating pain always happens again

there is nothing and everything to say working on my life is above and within writing my life isn't so remarkable; Erin Rose made me feel like it is though

THE WOUND IS OPEN she made me feel good she walked away, is supposedly going elsewhere for her meaningful personal relationship-building

paleolithic emotions medieval institutions godlike technology ^ excuses for the state of the world granted, we're all stuck in this suck machine together

BART train rolling over rocks delivering the goods in business

hope is a Phoenix, baby spreading wings to fly

typing word to hit the daily minimum I write to make sure I'm still here with everything I know myself to be: earn anew the whole chain of time from Big Bang to the next sound you hear be here with and on the continuum only when I'm gone will they miss the most commonplace things I do what can they do while I'm here? to write is to think about what isn't enough

career-wise I'll be fine; I want a lover and a family when desire strikes and resources are aligned

I can dig into the Bay Area career-wise I'll be fine in a year I'll be 31; in 5 I'll be 35 are these doldrums waiting for my life to begin? some say life starts at 50...type my way into the future? how aggressively can I summon what's coming to me?

looking around, there is no shortage of people darting eyes looking for comfort, diversion, connection with people they like

what is my message for people anymore? think for yourself and speak truth to corruption young people are doing it

that I am thinking and recording it is no symphony; it's what I do; the thing is to keep doing it, keep typing and adding on top; keep rereading and deleting when you don't need to celebrate or study it anymore; when nobody needs to know and the lift would bee too big to crank their brain into having the context to process it

how desperately important is it to be understood? if I don't feel the heat of oppression because of the reality of the world as I experience it, I will not push to have my stuff seen

my stuff doesn't need to be seen yet I am sure God will take what others need that I can give God knows

It is a perfectly great thing we have had; holding hands at that table was perfect. It is right here. I suppose with him there's the possibility of perfection, redemption, correction—it's the unknown, which is more exciting and alluring than the known. I'm easy, boring and obvious?

I'm not expiring I have years of throwing in more paragraphs I have come to the page and pages are here that had me on them I say things I've never heard

What is real vs. what might be real She had to throw away a perfectly great thing (what we had) because the temptation of something unknown but potentially amazing and perfect was right there, a box to open and jump in Of course, you crash into the cement floor beneath the tempting water

her body the arrow of longing, aimed, as all desperate things are, to crash not into the object of desire, but into the darkness behind it

a girl I like ended things yesterday (she's going back to her ex who, after their messy and exhausting breakup because he wasn't capable of planning a future, wants her back and she's still in love with him) so I take a breath and think about my solitude, my computer, my thoughts, my plans and I think of Picasso's self-portraits https://twitter.com/HistoryInPix/status/767581576460926978 the Notes are my self-portrait I’m choosing what lines to include I paint my own picture yes, I spend my personal life getting closer to myself I had a good take with Erin Rose; now it’s time to move on

first thought off the pillow: "no prospects"

http://reallifemag.com/all-my-ghosts/

there always is someone to talk with on the wire

URL–IRL liaisons

God, how am I going to write my way into life after my mother dies?

knock it out of the park with another Instagram?

Composed Facebook post This morning, a girl I really liked ended things. Well, "paused" since her ex (whom she loved, whom she parted angrily with because he, being a 1986-born American male like me, ~*bless his heart*~, was incapable of planning a future) told her a few days ago he wants to try again. My good man! He would put a great deed on the board for the '86 boys if he indeed came around and realized "freedom" is kinda whatever. I sat across from her at coffee and it was strange and beautiful. Eye contact is a helluva drug, you guys. A world to fall into and off of. A mirror reflecting your darkest and brightest wounds and beliefs. All the potential energy present at the Big Bang is hanging on breaths you take together.

Will take this moment to rattle off my type—if you have been interested in my soul, future, etc., DMs open and now taking meetings in the SF Bay Area for romantic partners who:

- read - think - struggle - try

really, being a person is not hard on paper, i.e. in format, i.e. a method and framework that can be studied, shared, agreed on.

writing to no one in particular and putting it in the crowded space feels fine; I have nothing to lose by making my cognitive behavior available to you. I hope you like it! Thank you for reading!

she threw away a perfectly good thing her old boyfriend decided (after their agonizing breakup that was hard on both their families; they loved each other and tore themselves away from each other because he was not capable of planning a future) he’s now mature and wants to plan that future with her he’s my born in ’86 brother I hope he came around

I am standing on the precipice of longing and disappointment; there is no other way forward this isn’t about her, it’s about me and what there is of a life I care to live in i can’t waste words anymore i won’t let myself say an untrue or repetitive thing no simple answers or claims here; no boisterous knowing exactly what should be done we are floating in a shallow sea of detritus, markers and talismans of life as it used to be and no longer can be yet must die its own death (talking here about racism, sexism, homophobia, hate, fear, power, wealth, patriarchy, oppression, anger, conservative ideology—being fiscally conservative is fine; there has to be a way for love, inclusion and giving to become the new bedrock of scientific reasoning, logic, math, economics; we have to see things in terms of lived human experience; it cannot be abstracted; the people making decisions must be in tune with the spirit, the future, the earth, themselves as a sacrificial hero; America as the most fragile thing possible in the cosmos understand the limits of the brain—how great we can be think of people in terms of ambition, not geographic location

the central narrative voice of my life has certainly moved, grown up, gotten legs and Leviathan scales

a certain toughness the grit to survive in cold water

feeling neglected over text

the world will not warm you; it sits at bay glistening in its sterility until you reach out and touch it...

as ever, you just have to want to an obligation to desire

a desire to oblige

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