another note to self / 48hrs kind of entry. met with a colleague today who is very desperate, so desperate that he could not enjoy what is given to him. he couldn't hear a word I said. I was vaguely...flew and flew over the fields. She lost her golden feather in a faraway land. Bitter as it is, dear mother, for a lake to have no fish, so it is bitter, dear mother, to eat from a stranger’s table.

I have remembered a few times this week, the image conjured up by the story fania told us about the soldiers near Polnar using the severed head of a blonde jewish girl as a football. I couldn't look at...that girl, however I see the curly locks and the muddy ground very clearly. What is it about this past two weeks that recalls this so vividly. Still leaving Vilne and approaching my own eternal present

I am sitting by a bouquet of lilies in the parlour of my mothers apartment the late morning sun filters in thru diaphenous sheer white drapes. it rained and its now clearing again. beloved RK is visiting...slowly dying but giving up thier last bursts of scent and stamens heavy with amber dust. It's too early in the morning for intoxicants but I indulge. You never know where your next meal is coming from

Armed with a gelato in my hand and love in my pocket, i am hunting for ghosts, surrounded by linguists and lovers. In the doorway of every dilapidated building, in the shadow of every old bridge, in...to be vulnerable enough to return the embrace. The whole body engaged, like the first nations revered the buffalo for allowing them sustenance, solace, shelter, everything the buffalo body could give

some emails evapourate in a moment, others you turn over and over in your mouth and try to make them last. i try not to judge the author of a dry email, perhaps they will tell me other things in other ways...some other time, later...at some point, then. but the slow trickle of emails that nourish, this is what longing tastes like.

sometimes the adoration of an adult male sublimates faster than any other embrace or gratitude that has ever grazed my cheek. i find out i had bones i didn't know existed, from how well their brittleness...because i rarely test it. my favourite part of me before transition was my hair - perhaps because it was the part everyone else had the most love for. now it's my sincerity, i enjoy being sincere