Excess; Reflection

 

It's that weird season again. The one that is laced with memory and fabrication, coziness and outsider status. It's the season where I start working out differently - wanting to feel my body and its limits more. As if pushing to failure will help me realize where I stand. What I'm capable of.  What results are those deep and particular cravings.  In sex, in food, in comfort. All of it. 

Tonight I am writing this with muscles aching, a bag of Takis (Fuego) and the kind of Kinder Egg that requires you to scoop milk-and-white chocolate out of half of an "eggshell" within reach. I've been going back and forth between the two: My mouth on fire and the heat being put out by the thick sweetness of the unreal, but not necessarily good, chocolate.  

A few feet away from me, a stocking with my name on it that arrived as a gift from a friend in New York hangs over a non-functional fireplace with a padlock on it. There is seasonal symbolism in there, somewhere, but I can't quite place it. 

Meanwhile, most of the day has been spent talking to friends who live far away and listening to podcasts on this week's parsha/parasha/parashat. I'll never be clear on how to spell it. 

Reading and listening and learning and reflecting. 

Eating and fucking and lifting and thinking.  

 

I am thinking, tonight, about the minds that I covet. 

I am thinking, tonight, of the minds that I miss. 

I am thinking of the boy who truly loved Genet and the way he would wipe his nose.

I am thinking of the masc who told me of their former lover who liked to be wrapped in Saran Wrap.

I am thinking of the secrets I have held for people.

I am thinking of the people who wanted to hold mine. 

 

How many Decembers have you had in your lifetime so far? 

Can you remember them all? 

 

k.  

 

 

(image: akiphotogrpahthings tumblr) 

The Truest True, or, Fingertips Upon Cold Glass

This evening I sat in a lecture that made me yawn. Yes, it was interesting, but I will admit that I was more interested in pinning various of the Zoom attendees little video squares so that I could get a better look at the posters on the walls in their bedrooms. 

I've been feeling back where I need to be as of late. Something between books and brothels, daring and daydreaming. It feels good. All while the world is burning, but with so many of us maintaining our hands firmly fixed to the love that is inherent in struggle.

 

be well; be loved,

 

k. 

 

The Contraption You Bought to Build Your Jawline

 

 Ill-fitting latex

too thick leather gloves (they remind me of someone's mother)

over-quoting Sartre (does he need to be quoted at all?)

and the misunderstanding of Stoicism 

when what is really happening 

is the simple 

losing 

battle 

of emotional regulation.

I am tired of smiles that have too much gum

and unintelligent contradictions

like bosses who cry

and bottoms 

you don't like to be told 

what to do.