Sunday, September 23, 2012

Manifesto Ultimatum: Day 6: Unpopular Opinion

"It's all fun and gay until someone looses their rights."

If you don't want an abortion, don't get one.

But Ayn Rand, economically, got it just right.

But Ayn Rand, rhetorically, got it just right.

And if I were to do it all over again, I would do a lot of things differently.

Skinny boys are hot.

And everybody leaves you in the end.

"Carnal apple, Woman filled, burning moon,
dark smell of seaweed, crush of mud and light,
what secret knowledge is clasped between your pillars?
What primal night does Man touch with his senses?
Ay, Love is a journey through waters and stars,
through suffocating air, sharp tempests of grain:
Love is a war of lightning,
and two bodies ruined by a single sweetness.
Kiss by kiss I cover your tiny infinity,
your margins, your rivers, your diminutive villages,
and a genital fire, transformed by delight,
slips through the narrow channels of blood
to precipitate a nocturnal carnation,
to be, and be nothing but light in the dark."

That's my moon. Someday, I'll write a real blog post. Probably.
All my love,

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Manifesto Ultimatum: Day 5: Something about bands and set lists.

Let's talk about Band of Horses. I was across the street, halfway across the universe with Emily and Avery and we'd lost everyone else somewhere else and we weren't listening until that beginning guitar riff from "The Funeral" came in -- you know that one? And that song is so good and we went running. We went running down the sidewalk, back across the street, back across the universe, and I think I pushed past a woman with a stroller (sorry, m'am), and Avery shouted something about getting back before the downbeat, but we aren't that fast of runners and we were kind of far away, anyway. 

The point is that that was summer for me, like boyfriends and best friends and dirt poor, so be it, dirt poor and happy to be it because we had each other and that made us rich, rich, rich, starry-eyed and new.

And now fall is here, less sweaty and more apologetic, if you will, perhaps only because it has more to apologize for than its summer-y-ier counterpart.

Fall is here now, and now I am okay it with it, though, to be honest, it's taken me a second to get this way -- I have jeggings, hot coffee, a whole heck of a lot of transcontinental phonecalls, women in overalls, lots of yoga, girls with curly handwriting, and calculus, even, oddly enough, to thank for that. Oh, and Shakespeare. I always have Shakespeare to thank. Thank you, William. You're the man.

And this fall, I'm doing okay, with okay meaning "I really like waking up in the morning."

What I'm really getting at is this: Today, I finally opened a checking account, which made me feel rich, rich, rich in a monetary sense, and I am rich, but not like that. I'm rich because I have a full head of hair and brains inside my skull and boys who run cross country to teach me about rap music and I still get transcontinental phonecalls and someone made a mix of "Islands" by Young the Giant and "Into" by The XX, and that's basically the best song to ever happen to me, and I have good teachers and good parents and good sisters and I wake up every day and I really like it. I really like waking up in the morning, because I am not lonely anymore, because there are people who love me. I've never needed to be lonely. There have always been people to love me.

There are people who love you.
There have always been people who love you.

"The minute you let her into your heart, she'll take all your money and leave you at home." NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA.
All my love,

Sunday, September 2, 2012

Manifesto Ultimatum: Day 4: Haikus

I am so lucky
To call you my own mother.
Can't thank you enough.

Today, there is rain.
This morning, I loved your laugh.
Today, I miss you.

There's more where that came from.
All my love,