9 may 2025 1:57am

i spend a lot of my time missing things. in the day when you see this, because i can not bring the night to you. and so on and so forth ad nauseam. a lot of days i wake up wondering how it will get worse today, i wonder if that's supposed to be concerning.

i could go on and on about this but that's for another time. that is another me and tonight like always, when the birds get tired there are helicopters flying overhead instead and i wonder what sort of things are night things. is your night thing listening to yourself talk? does that make me just there? too, i mean.

sometimes i find myself saying things like i will be oh so quiet. i am still afraid sometimes to be loud maybe it's because it is a thing that i am and i hope i am forever. but one day i will learn to whisper and i want to become comfortable with the part of me that lays in beds at night just wasting time. and so in this way i find myself wondering how many of our dreams are about sleep. i know there are things i can give up to have more peace but what does it mean to "can" and not? "can" you at all?

i can say the words right now. evoke this and remember that but what am i to do with that? i have fears that spawn fears and sometimes i possess a beauty that spawns beauty i watch it ebb because i am afraid.

did you know? in the day i beg to be seen. it eats at me a little just how badly i wish i could just be this thing. this pretty soft silly little thing oh my god like a fuckin cat or flower or the breeze i wish i was peace itself is how bad i want peace sometimes. i think that i dont get my peace until a lot of people get theirs.

in the night though i am there. i am here i am there i am just sitting there wondering where it ends and begins. does that kind of thing come and go? do you feel that kind of beautiful for 2 seconds and then just hope that as you flutter away in the wind you glint in someones eye. am i good enough to grasp for? to hold gently, oh my god to keep?

you know i thought you were so hungry. and now i know hunger and sometimes i'm afraid that i am hungry too because i know desire.

i know softness too and i can't deal. why can't i type right here that thing that doesn't come back. why does this part of me come out when i go there and why can't i go back?

why does every forest? and every stream.

you know, i feel strongly that in the study of linguistics there is a word that is more specific than understanding.

you understand something because it does more than hit a wall. it does not fall on empty ears. but i think that to parse is something else. to understand the way the words you are listening to belong together, to feel the way they were spoken beyond their immediate purpose of making you comprehend an objective meaning. to understand the words that are there just to change meanings, subtexts, contexts, feeling as they refer to one another, as they fit together like puzzle pieces or a collage, until you can hear their melody.

i know i do not have to explain. you are parsing. at night i am there wishing you had not seen this part of me because if i cannot be it foreve, alwaysr then what was it to be. i am beautiful still. i can grieve all day long but i am beautiful still. so linger. while i figure out how to be here still because i am. 3:05