Car Culture and the Lines of a Tailored Suit: Passenger Princes and the Bratty Boy Behind the Wheel

The rain on my car is a baptism.

                                 -- From that one movie. You know the one. 

These past few days have had a calm within me. Externally, there have been storms for some around me. Asks for emergency Zoom calls; texts for last minute tarot reads. This kind of thing doesn't happen often but, when it does, it just feels good to be able to have and offer the capacity to hold and take on some of the weight of it. The timing feels serendipitous and for that, I am grateful. It has been sunny for several days now, but it has been raining hard in other realms.

This weekend will be a housewarming party: The house filled with family and love and laughter-  with or without a functioning barbecue. 

* 

Lastly, because I don't know the order in which to put it, I learned earlier this week that a loved one's sibling died by suicide. 

[This loved one is of so many years. Years of letter-writing, romance, friendship, clues. The first blueprint of something true. Their father helped me figure out how to buy my first new-for-me vehicle. Their sister the first child aside from my niece I had bought a present for back then.] 

So I am here: Showered and quiet, contemplating the complexity of these kinds of deaths. They churn the stomach, the mind and the heart in a way that is distinct from other kinds of deaths. In their immediate shadow, there are never exact words to say and, perhaps, it is better that way. 

Memorial Day, indeed.  

 

be well; be loved,

 

k.  

[image: Jing Wen for Vogue UK, March 2018  Mert & Marcus]

Star Witness and the Beauty of the Fall

Sweaters and hot liquid; cashmere and heels. 

This weather gets me.

I've been all over the place in my mind as of late.

Flashes of the night we dragged my mattress out onto my balcony so that we could sleep under the stars. It started to mist rain and, as we spooned and pressed and inhaled the night air, you behind me, you took your cock out and slid it inside me. I pushed back onto you and we fucked frantically for the first time and the stars saw every bit of it.


k.

(image: is not mine. it's from tumblr, though i can't recall from where. i know. i am awful.)

Acerbic Acrobatics

Part of today was spent doing basic research on maxillary canines.  Also admiring the various forms and aesthetics of resistance.

The indulgence of today was waking up to the second half of a short story by Joanna Russ that hit home in a particular, sci-fi way.  I'm glad to have stumbled upon her, typing away as I do in a city where she once lived. She sounded like one smart and pissed bitch that was in physical pain.  Good on her.  And thank you for existing and taking the canons of sci-fi down a few hundred notches with her critiques.

In any case, that's what I've got for today.  Now I am candlelight and eucalyptus and finally being warm.

be well; be loved; be aware that everything isn't always how you thought it was and this, in fact, can be a very good thing.

k.

(Image: Xanti Schawinsky 1936-1937 Black Mountain College via Bizarre Disco Tumblr)