silvercowb0y

[silvercowb0y]

HELD CLOSE ALL THE TIME, KNOWING I’M HALF OF YOU

[silvercowb0y]

Gia (1998) Michael Cristofer

[silvercowb0y]

rest in peace to the icon, olivia hussey (1951-2024)

[silvercowb0y]

Why don’t you like the ocean?

evil

[silvercowb0y]

there was one for last summer, and one for the christmas before then. a strong nose on a pretty face dangling cigarettes from elegant hands, matching nail polish with my own— a choice from long before we ever met. it’s too hot still, but we’re both in thin sweaters — a silent prayer for august to become autumn. there’s another one seven months before swapping a halo for a baseball cap in a cafe so i don’t have to sit with the sun in my eyes. walking me home — not my own, but his— and toying with what it would be like for us to be married after months of silence. something about a pretty face a head above my own sells me the idea that we’re the same. fighting with either of them is one sided, and it feels like civil war. i’m the special one, not them! a magician never reveals his trick, but how did they both disappear? is it even fair? i didn’t know they were magicians, and i didn’t know i was an audience member. is it even fair?

[silvercowb0y]

adam gave one rib for God to make eve. it feels like God keeps taking different bones from my body without me knowing- more people made of the same material as me keep walking into my life. what a blessing when for so long i felt my missing parts were deformities, but what a curse to not be able to cling to them when they finally reveal themselves.

[silvercowb0y]

leaning into apathy so i don’t kill myself. avoiding the only project that gives me purpose so i don’t lose it on completion. i only ever think about marriage when i think of what it’ll be like to die. i hesitate to share my thoughts online — if something happens, you know she wrote a manifesto? why am i worried about something happening if it’s in my hands? it’s all out of my hands though, isn’t it?

[silvercowb0y]

I turn off the yellow lights so the bathroom is only red. The sound of the cheap projector spinning, humming quietly, endlessly. I close the door and I lock it and then close the door and I lock it and then I stand under the water. The drugs round the corners of the shower slightly and I'm able to stick my hand through the tile if I want but only if I want. I will always look for a crack in the wall through which to feel it. To touch it. To put it in my mouth and my mouth on it. It's easier when it is dark and when it is cold or when it is suffocatingly hot but always when I'm alone. It does not come to me where other people can see it, unless I take the drugs, at which point no one can see me though I can see all of them. I want to stare at the sun for a while, but not nakedly. Instead I hang up quilt over quilt and watch it try to get through. I want to take more drugs because I want to get high because I want to see it and wrap myself up in it. Maybe I should do drugs before I do interviews. I make all my music high out of my mind, it seems silly to talk about it later while sober. Do I even know what I'm talking about when I'm sober? I'm recounting a memory of an experience I had with God, now with God having left the room. I don't have to explain to you what I'm talking about it, you already know. I don't care who you are, you know. You've been alone at least once in your life so you know. I blacked out every window of my bedroom in the attic in Pennsylvania and I rocked back and forth on my bed with the drugs and I cried asking for it to come to me. I want it all the time. I am so angry that it will let me near but it won't let me stay. It's so cruel. It laughs at me when I realize we are not the same. I'm going to take more drugs and get in the shower and put my hand through the tile. I know you can hear me. It's happening to everybody.

[silvercowb0y]

how do you deal with the insane amount of imposter syndrome that comes with making art?

if i can't be the me that i think i should be, i just become something else

[silvercowb0y]

Punish, off my new project Perverts, is out November 1st.

Perverts will release January 8th.

Single art by @silkenweinberg ♡

[silvercowb0y]

don’t you know an apparition is a cheap date?

[silvercowb0y]

i keep getting glimpses of antler racks in my rear view mirror. everytime there’s a car in my blind spot next to your exit, i’ll assume that it’s you. i’ll hope you’re trailing me that close. i’ll hope that’s why you’re out of sight yet top of mind.

[silvercowb0y]

unfortunate to break the fourth wall, but for the last 6 months, the person who ~97% of my rambling posts are about has repeatedly asked me to be their girlfriend, and i’ve lost complete interest and repeatedly said no. so things really do come full circle, and yearning is fleeting even when ‘fleeting’ equates to a year of itself.

[silvercowb0y]

sometimes i feel like i’ve never hated myself as much as i do right now. this time, it’s true. i wish i could donate my body to science, but that would mean killing my consciousness first. some days that seems within the realm of possibility. today is one of those days. it feels like my head caves in on itself, and my brain, malleable as it is, follows suit. it feels like my skin is a size too big, and i could just take it off and go on without it. just an incision to let the soul seep out.

[silvercowb0y]

bell hooks, All About Love

[silvercowb0y]

Margarita Karapanou, tr. by Karen Emmerich, from Rien ne va plus

[Text ID: “—Every time I want to write, I want to write love stories. But as soon as I pick up the pen I’m overcome by horror.”]

[silvercowb0y]

it feels like another one

of my bones

is outside my body.

it’s bittersweet.

i want it set back

in its place,

but i also

want you to have it.

please keep it, please, i insist.