january-may 2025, still updating.

links to note collections are reverse chronological, notes themselves are chronological (updates at the bottom).




the dirt’s dreaming of the fossil, or what they call a first impression

grace detonator

cosmic hijinks

until then- track blood on somebody’s carpet

it’s just me and old people who laugh in movie theaters but it’s cool we’re in cahoots

And she in between, the victim of sound

She says, ”You’ve got a minute left to fall in love”
In solemn moments such as this I have put my trust

I walk up to the tallest and blondest girl at the thing and deck her square in the jaw

”You know what they used to call me in the army: Jesus.” -Michael

on all my scarves of blue

But there’s a fine line between resurrection and running in circles. Discipline takes action.

Ryan Taylor writes below 14th st and sleeps above the Bronx. They love you, and hope you will forgive them.
Ryan Taylor is a writer based in NYC but raised in Baltimore County, where they would’ve fit the profile of a school shooter outstandingly, had they been male.
Ryan Taylor would prefer to possess a brilliance so illuminated, the force of it alone would be enough to achieve professional success while they crash out and don’t write artist bios.

You know, some translations also say ”breaker of horses”.
Yes.
But that’s not what are you, is it?

”My battle cry is Nevermore. I give these sucker fish what for.
/
I ruin them. I’m through with men. I build the new Jerusalem.
/
This earth, my sole inheritance, spits up its previous lubricants.”

shirt with ASPECT DAWNING across the chest

cataclysmic and prolific

She believes something about honesty that isn’t true.

self portrait with weapon. color.

”i use any point and shoot i can get my hands on. doesn’t matter what it is as long as i can use it quickly. i love life quickly.”

”who are you are you two twins why’s she got a ribbon tied around her wrist”

Hey ____, why don’t you cut the shit
And tell me who you’re fighting for?

under lock and key and latin

Yeah, well, Jeff Buckley also started off as a cover artist.
He was a session musician.
What’s the difference?

She moved as if trying to hide her body with her body.

Are you turning tricks today? Are you waiting tables or learning WordPerfect? Are you in a lesbian bar looking out of the corner of your eye for the butchest woman in the room? Do the women there talk about Democratic politics and photography and co-ops? Are you with women who bleed only monthly on their cycle?

You (Sarah Lawrence College registrar’s office) may be able to stop me from advancing my already illicit 63 creative arts credits with yet another writing class, but you cannot stop me from taking a literature class where I will functionally do the exact same thing

They came to fuck an angel after death

No regrets, coyote

When you play a barre chord think of it as starting where your finger meets your hand rather than the tip

I don’t do molly anymore
put the key in the door
if you love me, I love you more

Coils subtracting within me

concatenated

bringing your empty prescription bottles to the merch table

Beethoven’s cochlear implant

no one
throws a Molotov cocktail better
than a Buddhist monk.

I felt I knew the world
and then found out it contained that first step and every next step
toward guns and dogs and the Arctic Circle, it made me so happy
that she did this that I dug a
better trench and washed cleaner plates
and tried to think of a place on my wife’s body I’d never kissed.

we r all time travelers

Sometimes God happens fast

and they said that’s the funny thing, I thought it sounded like what you would make.

these facts do actually have a death toll

losing ten g at the roxy’s pool table then get my shit rocked in the photo booth

A body’s got a right to be curious. Now I’m not so sure.
Oh, put that body to bed. I don’t know a damn thing

guy playing beautiful trickling capo guitar opposite the latin in the bryant park 7 tunnel

because like July nights it has seen the best of things once and never again

GIANT COMPUTER SOLUTION

She goes the way she came
Like a fragment of a nightmare you had when you were fifteen years old

-dont piss off fire safety

Diana pencilling in her comedown

You can’t hold him, and you never will

ok so a lion and a man walk into a bar

that love is both a constant and a variable at the same time.

That last one wasn’t good. It vibrates off my skin like the shimmer of fumes. I hide my face.
I count your eyelashes
secretly

the man and the lion joke ends with the man’s corpse being dragged around the perimeter of the bar for twelve days btw

indecipherable or unpronounced sexuality...an equal opportunity lech

I don’t know, she’s just sitting there drawing spirals.

Infamous Vegan House of Sin

1 part vodka 1 part sprite, meticulously tested coke bag, adderall xr in the wings

you trained yourself out of yourself

miraculous applications (tendons in quintessential arrangements) (the anatomic theater)

Just kids. Talking. TOH.

you need to remember real sacrifice

boy with long hair dilemma is either get called a faggot or get called a girl

the shortest distance between what my soul hears and what I say back

When I was younger I was removed from public school after developing a crush on the number 4.

The person who invented the sonnet was a lawyer- used to making arguments

in love with narrative

pleaseletmetakeyourliterarytheory
classsoicanhaveareasontostillbein
collegeplease Let me know what you think, Ryan Taylor

The map proceeds the territory

Sometimes when I talk to you I think it’s time travel

every time I leave the house
I am ready to die for this.
are you?

Doe-eyed creep

Suaviter in modo fortiter in re

When you have nothing to say, set something on fire.

practicing your name in the dark

tenderqueer is when you’re outed at 13 and your mom’s trying to put you through conversion therapy and you’re making yourself easy to sexually abuse on the internet and you lose your virginity at 16 while high for the first time in a threesome with older people you barely know and then refuse to talk about your sexuality or actually date anyone for four years because you hate yourself.

Life is a very old trick. and no one’s ever gotten better at it

”Ryan, I think you have a strong sense of justice that runs through everything you do.” I don’t know if that’s an honor or a warning.

A great dj and a better friend.

when we got to the top of the hill in the woods by her house and climbed the pine tree together and she was like the one fingerprick of red on this heavy landscape, I felt something bigger and calmer and heavier than happiness.

carissa covered in national aquarium blue shade is making me a daiquiri with too much salt
nat is apologizing for vitriol on my behalf but I am touched even if I can’t drum it up myself
and it makes me cry for a different motivation
three dark heads writing on slips of brown paper.
we are driving across the country opposite and to the left
I will accidentally leave my draft of the 8th great american novel at a gas station in St. Louis

the feeling of finding navy blue boxer briefs with a precum stain on the inside while doing laundry

’all piety leads to a single point’

I feel like you have a lot of complicated interpersonal relationships, Ryan.
Haha. I’d like to have less.
(a third speaker) Can you?

weird but lovely. speaking from a point of already knowing

I’m kind of in this mode of like...things have been happening for the past 48 hours and if they stop I really don’t know what I’m supposed to do.

Who could they get to carry you?

Everybody is totally fed up with your spiteful, self-righteous narrative style. They all want to go back to my slightly less spiteful, slightly more self-righteous style.

dude I’m machinating here. can you close the door.

Lepidoptera

I walk out glowing of a room filled with smoke. In the bathroom mirror, you realize you grew up. It used to be a serious concern, it hadn’t been invented yet. Your hair and face is long. Your eyes are dark blue. Your friends are waiting in the low light.

Occupational hazards of radical kindness

the luck of most people is strictly non-transferrable

New York City wading in pale gold broth, 7 am, a Hopper painting that isn’t lonely

As much as you know me, you don’t really know me

Dude, we left Ohio and now the roads are shit.
Where are we now?
I don’t know. Whatever’s after Ohio.

ramming a truck into the sunset in some back part of indiana as placeless as heaven

you can buy an expansive selection of liquor at the gas station. the speed limit is 80. the stars are unbridled.

cruelty to cruelty high fives

The only bodily function more embarrassing in public than getting a boner is crying

Some lives have probably been saved because people had more time to think about what they were doing while they were stuck in traffic.

he goes fighting to the floor

It was hard to tell my life wasn’t ending when I was 1,500 miles away from the rest of it.
+ scheherazade metaphors.

what wrecked me makes me roll my eyes

BIG, BIG IDEAS.

To reappropriate Smith, there are things in here: crisis center attendees, the wings night air of sincerity, ex 15 year old DIY scene debuts, art school graduates-to-be, orchestra kids gone wrong, adolescent psych students, sadomasochists, the nightclimbers of Chinatown, the most intense girl you’ve ever met, Tompkins Square Park in June, skipping vyvanse to do coke, skipping methadone to yell at teenagers, the northeastern corridor Amtrak, kitchen floor haircuts for redheads, having a mental breakdown in Oklahoma, defunct DIY squats, lake beers, cluster b, cluster c, freight yards, and three things that don’t stop. ”Just like there’s always been,” or something.

”Call it Sarah awrence the way I keep taking Ls,” -Ellis

self preservation vs someone else’s pain

Unknown record playing, unseen incense burning, sunlight by way of red curtains on 1912 floors. Innana in a perfect black A-line sundress on the first day of March with tattoos laying on her back like sutras, or like the black lace scarf currently pinned over my bedroom window. Black hair behind a headrest (memory burn). A white painted ladder wobbling like a singing saw. ”Who are all these young people in the kitchen?” ”They’re mine, sorry.” Maybe what E called ”the other dependable loves”.

Many years later, as Sam would controversially say in an interview with the gaming website Kotaku, ”There is no more intimate act than play, even sex.” The internet responded: no one who had had good sex would ever say that, and there must be something seriously wrong with Sam.

The only two people that don’t wonder value romance over logic.

DotDotDot.

”I hope someone’s out there.”(e) ”Everyone’s out there.”(v)

It’s just Elsinore out there. It’s just an empty, glowing window, a rectangular hole piercing the opaque night, showing our aching eyes a world composed of lightning and dawn (etc.) It’s just best laid plans. It’s just a couple streets in the universe you can walk down one more time and never again. It’s just restringing your Gretsch. It’s just the photograph you didn’t take, but titled.

no less exhaustingly than touchingly
Much that is terrible takes place in the Homeric poems, but it seldom takes place wordlessly

Five twenty-two year olds sitting on the floor of a bedroom (girlishly adorned with vintage porn) belonging to none of them (she’s playing Texas Hold’em in the dining room) spinning a dark and empty bottle of [ yellow tail ]. Nix kissing just questions. When was the last time you experienced lust? What do you think about your own beauty? When was the last time you wanted to kill yourself? (my side of the room shouts ”WHAT?” when they say never.) Top or bottom? Under what conditions do you feel most beautiful? (When I’m moshing with someone is the nicer and incomplete answer. Um, in the sure incandescence of violence, haha. But that doesn’t necessarily mean motion. These are the same conditions under which I find someone else the most beautiful, so maybe I’m confused. I’m not vicious, I’m the other half of the lyric. Trust me.) Do you have a code of conduct? When was the first time you came? When did you first know who you wanted to be? (If you’ve known who you wanted to be.)

αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς χεῖρ᾽ ἐπιμασσάμενος φάρυγος λάβε δεξιτερῆφι, τῇ δ᾽ ἑτέρῃ ἕθεν ἆσσον ἐρύσσατο φώνησέν τε.

In lieu of satisfaction, I’ll take analysis

...which is why I have taken the liberty of coding a ludonarratively dissonant hypertext explanation for any questions you might have

Vomit wizard expelling magic

I told all of your colleagues, those clown comics, to fix their hearts or die

Draft dodging your personal battles

”The Birthday Party is a very very famous band for people who wear this kind of jacket.”

so looked behind the light and found blood
rus”The Birthday Party is a very very famous band for people who wear this kind of jacket.”

Worlds rise and fall

I take it like an empty voice message

...
try to love someone with only your classical guitar
try to love someone with only your near perfect english SAT score
try to love someone with only your complete disinterest in your own anger when anger is in the best interest of your survival
Try that

”i used to raid some blogs you read at 13 but at 21 i will bear your children\nno punchline”

experimental forestry
my head to my hands is a Rube Goldberg machine

We existed from 2003/4 to 2007. It really was so much whiskey. Thanks for letting us play shows, sorry we broke your stuff.

sad ryan was no problem you are always free to be whatever ryan you need to be

the lyrics proceed the territory

I’ll be there in an hour
if there’s a hole in the gate

”Mythos, in Greek,” said Borges, ”is not a story that is false. It is a story that is more than true. Myth is a tear in the fabric of reality, and immense energies pour through these holy fissures. Our stories, our poems, are rips in this fabric as well, however slight.”

an expensive vocabulary (twelve bucks in late fees from the baltimore county public library)

And that was our day. You know what I mean.

I wish we went back that far
I wish we grew up on the same block
Well you know, it’s just kind of intense that you’re in London tonight

I moderate illogic with hesitancy, but I can’t change the gut recognition.

and other sounds for kids in white belts or skinny jeans to dance to. Lights on mosh is back at the Maxx

That could make life quite difficult.
Yes, and possibly shorter.

I want words like lasers.

The child on lithium will see in shadow all animals

the first time crying in Kingston amtrak

I wasn’t sure until a few people turned to me and I knew they got it and I think we looked at and spoke to each other in a way we wouldn’t, or couldn’t, have looked or spoken otherwise. On that possibility, even if it’s embarrassing or deeply inappropriate, I will keep making stuff.

a chain of events beginning or close to beginning with getting waitlisted for housing the summer after freshman year of college

It feels like spring but it isn’t working. Too deep for scenes.

Sky provided the only drama, and counting on a Cincinnati horizon for life’s principal joy was reckless indeed.

”who can relate to administrador of gods - i had this dream - one for three - the song moves forward - cocksure cockschafer - heavy gold when its hot enough -”

our ideas about the light are mostly wrong

I wanna be out of practice

To my illustrious friend Sir William Crookes of whom I always think and whose kind letters I never answer!
hard at work making the medium obsolete

So we have a competition: who is the owner of the language of this land? Who loves it more? Who writes it better?

What I am is not from here

Pile of drugs and Mark E. Smith and you got a Fall song. Personally I think it’s dangerous.

female socialization exclamation points

The self-learning curriculum is infinite.

Things you say you don’t wanna know; things you really don’t.

”I smell heartbreak up there, Jack, a heartbreak at the center of things, and in which we don’t figure at all.”

I myself am my own symbol, I am the story which happens to me: freewheeling in language, I have nothing to compare myself to; and in this movement, the pronouns of the imaginary, ”I,” is im-pertinent; the symbolic becomes literally immediate: essential danger for the life of the subject: to write on oneself may seem a pretentious idea; but it is also a simple idea: simple as the idea of suicide.
One day, having nothing better to do, I consulted the I Ching about my undertaking. I drew the hexagram 29: K’an, The Perilous Chasm! (work at the mercy of magic: of danger).

Mythologies that are not acknowledged can be dangerous.