[syxmor]

[syxmor]

[syxmor]

[syxmor]

[syxmor]

[weltenwellen]

Gail Honeyman, Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine / Susan Sontag, As Consciousness Is Harnessed to Flesh / Olivia Laing, The Lonely City: Adventures in the Art of Being Alone / Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me / Kitty Stryker, “Radical Self-Reliance” Is Killing People.  / Yiyun Li, Dear Friend, From my Life I Write to You in Your Life

[syxmor]

[syxmor]

[syxmor]

[boy-clothes]

Garments Against Women by Anne Boyer

[syxmor]

[syxmor]

[tenderblues]

Moonlight screenplay by Barry Jenkins

[bedeliasbird-deactivated2021042]

“Can wounds run into other wounds? I open my eyes and sunset rushes in. Wound meets wound. Rivers of red water pour out endlessly And a door closes in the dark: the exit with your name.”

—Kim Hyesoon, frag. ‘지평선’, translated by Vanessa Falco. 

[syxmor]

February 12, 2021 - dating

an idea of love pushed onto sand and in the mold left behind this is what love is, a puzzle piece into imprint love then, is like a completed project one can buy at target; imprint it onto yourself; acceptance through this lens. and there’s a push for acceptance, normalization but in our yearning, do we realize the cost? in reaching, absorption and a heavy loss (i think); shallowness.

in which i find disillusionment from this; but also a sadness. conditioned to long; yearn; daydream coveting. but spaces designed are fashioned in such a narrow way for an outsider; transactional but still, you are hungry and there are crumbs left. isn’t that sad? designed to establish cycles, spiraling. in love, in love, in love,

always in, never foreign. what do you call being out love? not falling out of love but existing out love? watching, absorbing and wishing for a version of in love in spaces barred creating romantic love then? to create out love for out people; everyday, endlessly sand castles with looming waves out people designing cycles, (hopefully) ascending

[syxmor]

February 9, 2021 - space

don’t you think homes are interesting? the way they are limitless and limited. often, i think about how homes are children, joyfully and maddening. in certain homes, there is a sadness in the air and i think about this. how does one heal a home? 

my sister recently bought a home (beautiful) and a lot of talk about it being an old home,  a beautiful space (true, i admit). when she moved in though, the home bended/folded. is there a difference between a home and a house?  i guess that question is too similar to is there a difference between childhood and adulthood?  accommodation designed into being. 

isn’t that a sort of cruel thing? or is that outlook too negative?  maybe it’s more of a symbiosis and in my defensive interpretation, open doors and spaces seem sad.  the space we are allowed to occupy, space intersecting, space dominated and dominating, space co-existing,  imprinting of whom, what and where.

[existential-celestial]

Franz Wright, from “East Boston, 1996; Night Walk,” in God’s Silence