regurgitating through 2024

lately i’ve been trusting with limited bandwidth and i suppose i’ve also been wishing there was a song that existed and sang itself into thin air for every season…a sweet tune manual whispering to me all the ways we can turn it around. but the wish is my life i realize and i am beginning to sing again and wake up and look at the sky almost immediately. i imagine bliss’s dreams through the


time

right between spring and winter. there are no wrong seasons …only the order of the universe… and my..how things have changed since everyone changed. we pretend to know who made the world so is that why we don’t have to be good? when i see nowhere written down i really only ever read it as now—here— …here and now is nowhere and every place, shifting how everything lives, living then dying then living again to finish writing the story. added then subtracted over and over. i wish we wanted to do the right thing or cared enough to try and stop it. time answers the call with many different names: truthteller, tattletale, souvenir, the most loyal dog•◦இtime•◦our stunning mother—her spiral is what we draw and still always shout to the sky “which way!!!!”

or about the sky, ground and water all being in love once, remember? it seems not everything is equal suddenly and it doesn’t make sense, even in a mathematical way. amnesia insomnia nostalgia … evil sisters yeah, i hate those bithches. they’re all sorta beautiful in that crooked kinda way. if you look at them too long you begin to remember how afraid you really are of every thing. every single thing. just don’t look at them too long. but look ❥