im sure somebody knew
but no one would take them seriously
im sure somebody knew
but was too afraid to speak
im sure somebody knew
but thought that they could do something
and im sure somebody knew
exactly how this would play out

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@ketabby
im sure somebody knew
but no one would take them seriously
im sure somebody knew
but was too afraid to speak
im sure somebody knew
but thought that they could do something
and im sure somebody knew
exactly how this would play out
it's incredible the ways someone can still touch your life in new ways even years after they're gone
you aren't even dead. you just acted like we were dead to you even though we were the last ones left defending you. even after all you did. after all we shared, and we had to disavow you
and to think i took for granted briefly what you gifted us, and let things get piled up and buried and am unearthing now, though digitally.
i saw what happened to you online. you posted about it. and now days later here i am finding the live rendition of ketto buried in a crate on a hard drive in a folder that was a backup of one of the drives you made for us originally. although it's funny that you said you had all of clozee's work because i didn't discover her 2012 (and best) album until long after you left.
I never heard the live version of ketto before. im listening to it now. another track i didnt discover until after. but an artist i have loved for years before. i dont think he remembers saying it to me the night of that fucked up party for hethy in the house you used to live in when i starting playing my mix, "do you get it now? it all comes back to drum and bass"
but he did
and it does
and i think i get it now
a cassiope on a plastic beach
a melody from the music box trickles downstream, washed over stones through estuaries to the ocean, ascending to the cosmos a deeper tone set free by a hand on metal
i feel
that i have lived enough summers for a lifetime, or many lifetimes
it used to be the thing that i lived for, most looked forward to, dreamt about and craved
but now i feel that i would rather skip it all together
the weather gets warmer, and warmer still than ever before, my health declines and i can't handle things like i used to
we slave away year round for those who don't value our lives
im thinking i only loved summer for the freedom it brought as a child, the break from school, those awful institutions
but now there are no breaks, i would rather bundle up in autumn, at least i don't have to pretend to be happy in her melancholy embrace
Tove Ditlevsen, from a poem featured in There Lives a Young Girl in Me Who Will Not Die: Selected Poems
we could be fireflies in the snow
nightmarishly bright today
like the apocalyptic sun that rose in my dreams
like the searing star that illuminates demise played on a loop
ever repeating, ever warping, ever decaying, but never ceasing
the sun is bright in the world today like the sun is bright in my dreams
but not the welcoming or embracing warmth you expect on a midspring day
but a harsh light that cuts through haze without a semblance of comfort or hope
blue peaks through the clouds as if a desperate attempt at reprise
a struggling desire for respite
a wish for a vicious wind to sweep through quickly
as if delivering a final blow
to wipe away the wounds of winter
and leave us with a warm place to rest
sometimes i truly prefer the rain
i had forgotten...we used to call that place the performance area. it must have been before the world around me beat into me that i was different and no one would want to see me if they didn't have to. we'd climb the trees and jump off the swing over the hill and crash into bushes and the ground, but get up like it was nothing. imagining a fall like that now makes me twinge.
did we not feel the impact? the bruises and scratches not even registering. not noticing them until a parent or friend pointed them out, never feeling it. or maybe it was for that brief moment in the air, not locked to the earth. almost like flying, a moment of freedom.
i had forgotten that we used to call that place the performance area. because for most of my life i couldn't fathom being a performer of any kind, other than the pitiful attempts at acting like a normal person nearly my whole life.
but i could never dress normal. couldn't bring myself to find a label or a style or put myself in one box. had plenty of recurring motifs, but why would you self impose limits? it becomes subconscious after a while when the world constantly tries to impose them on you. but self expression has always been of core importance to me
these days i perform less for social expectations. i try to be a decent person, but i could never bend over backwards to conform, and that's true even more so now. these days i perform for the love of art, my art is the performance - in many ways. it is expression and reflection, grief and release, and love. sending out hope and a prayer to the universe and unfathomable cosmos that the love i feel can reach someone else, illuminate somewhere else, bring an ounce of peace or comfort or joy.
all i have is love and hope. if i can radiate nothing else in this little life of mine, let it be that. despite all the pain i've felt and what's yet to come, let it be that.
briefly,
before my breath caught in my throat (another sullen winter day in this mundane office job)
i caught the scent of petrichor and my mind bloomed with green
through the window past the parking lot, the whooshing of freeway traffic through empty branches
but i was transported elsewhere
where melodies and insects alike hummed in warm humid air
through hazy sunglow that peaks its head through as it dips beneath the horizon, setting drifting storm clouds ablaze
a distant place with blurred edges and undefined boundaries, but all made up of love
2026 commune with the earth through low frequency vibrations
A love that endures and accumulates
a hush settles over my soul with the snow that blankets our home
dims but barely quiets my thoughts, muffled voices through walls
already a sadness and longing for spring or summer, warmth and the sunshine and winds that don't sting
it seems to come quicker every year, but also so deepens my resolve to push through, to survive, to come out of the cold and emerge in the sunlight
to walk freely those places inhabited by nature or art, to exist in the world and feel peace
moon light the way,
saltwater graves
ancient carnal ritualistic goddess