September-December 2025, still updating.
You stop in a pizza shop to buy water, and the only other customer is a boy about your age doing the same thing for the same reason. You make blue-to-bright-green eye contact as you leave. The studio is kind of far from your apartment, but you sustain the separation of church and state. It’s a Greek neighborhood and you have to walk by a big sign with a name very close to someone else’s, both from one of the first verbs you learned the year you studied Ancient Greek. Something something nominative determinism. Your time slot isn’t for half an hour, you get coffee with L and H and drink it standing under the awning. ”Outside the natural world was enjoying a moment of total strength.” The rain rushes your back like the tide. You’re wearing a blue USA tank from the Target little boys’ section and jean shorts. Practice is good and you do a fun dual vocals thing with H. Yours needs work but you located where you should start getting intense. You need to figure out what lyrics to change. Some would say not to change any. You rip out a blank page from your passport for H to write down a song structure in liquid eyeliner on the porch.
parallel lines meet at infinity
At one time I experimentally ruined my life repeating the hypothesis ”If it can be destroyed by the truth, it deserves to be destroyed by the truth.” Whose truth? How much of it? I know perfectly well there are sentences that split timelines.
[Silence.] I heard you singing.
I’m terrified that we are doomed to never care about anyone more than the people who hurt us. I know this isn’t true, but it’s true sometimes. Hate is to love what anger is to sadness. Call it by its proper name.
On the N train to Queens. Above ground. It looks like thunder and you are carrying an unusually heavy electric bass from 1986 but your spirit is good. You did not sleep until 5 a.m. It’s 2:57 when the rain drops hard and it takes thirty seconds to change the world.
I was killing guys like you when I was 12.
Over what?
I don’t know, I was a kid.
Did you want me to change you?
(from a floating circus in the east river, waiting for the ambulance to arrive) The captain is resurrected, but not as a captain...Um...as a creature that transcends your imagination, and rises into the heavens by her hair, and swings and dances and the music rises- and-
”This is my favorite car that I fit inside.”
”It’s a good way to get acquainted with yourself.”
So when you tell me it was wrong to lie
I retort that it was wrong to boil my blood to keep your heart warm
”just like this...Machiavellian pervert from Canada”
how extreme can you get without collapsing confederated reality?
on the 18th I will be older than I ever thought possible for the sixth and third times in a row
”This is the first law of any beauty. Gravity.”
The saddest times in my life have been the ones with the least words, and the least music. The best and worst have been the ones with the most.
it would be one thing if I didn’t ID as a man or a woman but could at least use one of those words to describe my internal or external experience. I don’t even want that. I just want a better abbreviation.
”a song is the closest you can get to a drone strike.”
walking it off in the wrong direction
”His position cannot be comprehended. It is an inhuman generosity. A generosity that would overthrow the world if it was embraced because nothing would weather that compassion.”
”The weirdest thing was my erectile dysfunction was somehow connected to the National Rifle Association.”
We both made our t-shirts: hers says SLUT and my says i will be here until the end, and even then, when everything comes crashing (which is the name of an EP by a Denton sasscore band). We are close to the same height and body type and it makes me feel safe: I don’t worry as pathologically about being hurt or, much worse, accidentally hurting her. I am being stupidly sweet. I don’t actually know this girl and this is like, relationship making out. I feel embarrassed at how badly I want this gentleness. At some point I detach and feel relieved to focus on technique. She said I can be rough if I want and, to steal a line, it’s not love that lets her trust me. She unbuttons the 2nd tightest jean shorts at the party and I suck dick for the first time since January.