I wish only to rut and nuzzle in the darksome parts of pillow forts and massage parlors, and to purr mercilessly with great washes of rumble rising in my throat; I wish to float as a cloud above merry fields, ruckussed with the stench of lavender, the warm raze of the sun dripping down my arms into rain.
We are like butterflies, you and I: we crumble in an instant in the hands of childish things, but will still blossom against the sunlight like fists unfurling in wavers and hints of sobs beating in our eyelids like the tiniest wings flirting with the sky.
In my mind the waves still wash the shoreline, softly, softly sweeping away my memories one piece at a time, slowly pulling the sand seaward, gently, gently, gently taking me into the deep blue.
Ebb, it thrums. Ebb and sleep.
Sink.
Sleep.
Sleep.
My brother, rest easy — we have nothing to fear but the work of Man.
A line from something that I’m currently working on.
And in my dreams I am a drummer boy, hitting heartbeats on ten tin cans, hoping that someone is listening on the other side of the string and that they will know I am alive.
In the same way the soldier loads a shell into the chamber, the same way a writer bleeds on the page, we are all breaking pieces of ourselves in desperate pleas to be remembered. We put ourselves into our work because we know that it will survive much longer than any of this; it will at least outlast what hope we have. And when these bodies break we will still live long in our wounds, smeared on this world as they may be.
A small part of a story that I’m currently writing.
Half our lives must be taken up by building things. The other half, tearing things down; ‘till at the end we’re left holding the hammer with no idea what to do with it. And the whole world just seems to be holding its breath, waiting for the result of that last swing. I’m telling you: it’s a funny price to pay for being human.
Scarlet skies and fireflies, the sun ne’er sank so soft.
A small thing for a small memory.
Whoever said that life is not long didn’t live enough. We have all the time in the world, from now until forever, so long as we don’t waste it doing dumb things like dying.
A quote that popped into my head while I was trying to fall asleep late one night.
