#iām saying if existence is a void at least iām going down screaming.
itās been 9 years since i wrote this. i was experiencing 24/7 anxiety so badly that i needed serious medication. these days in the back of my car is an āemergency party box.ā when people admit they no longer really celebrate their birthday; i tell them to put the sash on and queue up kesha, weāre going bowling or something. these days i canāt spin around without finding something i am enamored with. these days i list 3 things iām grateful for before i fall asleep. youāre probably one of them, just by virtue of you existing.
at the time i wrote this, i was suffering through a severe panic attack literally every night. i tortured my brother with constant 2 AM calls just to hear someone else breathing, because i couldnāt be alone in the silence.
i rarely wish i was still 23 even though ironically i had more hope back then. what i can tell you is this: i love the same way, but bigger now. iāve worn the velvet cape to several business meetings. i spent thursday in a crop top without caring what my stomach looked like.
i told her i like her; i often dress as a witch. i still got glass in my foot this morning. iāve kissed maybe a thousand people since then and met a million more than that; passing like the shadow of a hammerhead in trains and planes and buses.
i saw you, beloved, there, maybe, on platform in south station. you didnāt speak, but you said: i struggle to give the nothing meaning. the nothing fills up everything. it is just loud and yellowed panicked silence. i canāt stop shaking.
on the roof, birds curl together against the chilled spring wind. the sky outside of the craft store was an iridescent pink. the nothing already had meaning; you are giving it meaning by witnessing.
the act of living, beloved: itās just decoding how to translate it.
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