de Kooning, Amiens, and other places I've searched for God.

I put a lot of Hope in my own future. I think it's because I have a lot of Doubt. Just in general. So I put a lot of hope in myself and the places I will go and the people I will know because I just don't feel like there's anything else I can do.

I put a lot of hope in the fact that someday I will see Amiens and in that moment, I will see the face of God. And I put a lot of Hope in the idea that someday, I will know for sure that "God" isn't just something you throw around in poetry when you want to drive it home, make a point, get people to listen to you. Then again, I might not. Because Faith is not an equivalent to Knowledge. Faith is not Knowledge, Hope is not Knowledge, Belief is not Knowledge, Knowledge is Knowledge, and if you Know God? Kudos to you, because I can only have Faith in Him.

The point is, I have places to go. I don't think I believe in some sort of predetermined Destiny or universal Fate, but I do like the concept. I think it's a creation of your own. And your parents will try to steer you. And the people you fall in Love with help sculpt it. I think we each have this process of unconscious Discovery that starts when you roll over in the morning, in that space between awake and asleep and I'm pretty sure the things that exist in those moments are, like, the rawness of your Being.

In case you were curious, and I don't Know, you might be, in my own space between awake and asleep, there are a lot of words and a lot of Renaissance paintings. A lot of times there's music. In my own space between awake and asleep there is never, ever silence, I can tell you that for sure. My suspension moments are not quiet. You probably could've guessed that.

And here's a truth: Sometimes, what I want to do is simply what I'm told to do, just because I don't like to deal with the debacles that ensue if I don't. I know that's hard for you to comprehend, but that's it. I do exactly what I please. Because everyone has to do what they're told for some amount of time. Really, I think they do. Even de Kooning attended the academy, and you know what de Kooning did next? He stamped out the cubist movement. Even de Kooning did what he was told for a little while there.

Anyway. I have a lot of Hope in Amiens and Botticelli and Victor Hugo and fresh snow and Maya Angelo and airplanes and Christmas mornings and New York City and Sunday afternoons with You and the fact that my life line on my palm is really long.

In my mind, I will never die. I will stay forever, trying to comprehend the mysteries of the universe, convincing myself that these are things I can understand. I never claimed I wrote because I already understood the world. I write because I'm trying to figure it out just like everybody else, and sometimes my figuring comes out eloquently (other times it does not).

But what I think I'm really getting at is this: I don't think I'll ever be able to do the things my mother does. She is more beautiful and more creative and more wonderful than I will ever be. I don't think I'll wake up one day and understand children or suddenly be a the mom who runs every class party, you know? I think the people who already do things like that right now will, though. The student council girls will be able to do that. I will be forever in awe of them.

I will be able to teach my children about Moliere, though. And they will be beautiful and tough and have healthy body images. We'll have an art room where they can throw paint and spill things and make messes and mistakes, because the messes and the mistakes I've made are the things that have made me.

I realize this post is crazy, isn't what I think I've come to let you people expect from me, but I'm sassier than I think you think I am. Passive aggressive? Maybe, but there's a lot you don't know. And I won't ever claim I know you through and through either.

Interrogative pronouns?
All my love,
Addy

Originally, I was too indie for this. Turns out I'm just too pretentious. Either way, this is MANIFESTO ULTIMATUM: DAY ONE. My way.

"i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)" 

I hate my nose. Everyone hates their own nose. It's a thing. I'd be willing to bet that even Taylar Davis hates her own nose, and she has the cutest nose of anyone I've ever met. Except maybe Lauren Stratton. Her nose rivals all noses, and I know for a fact that Lauren Stratton hates her own nose; she told me so herself, right after I told her she has the best nose of anyone I've ever met.

People like their eyes, though. It's also a thing. I think it's because eyes can't possibly be an ugly shape. Or maybe they can, but it's just so subtle that I can't tell. Someone ask Billy Prilgrim, Optimologist, Unstuck In Time. He'll know. My eyes are the color of grass and also the color of mice.

I like my eyelashes the best, though. They're the most beautiful thing about me. Mostly only the makeup ladies at Nordstrom notice them, though. They say things like, "Girl! Your eyelashes!" and I walk on air for a solid hour after that.

Scientifically, men are more attracted to the left side of a woman's face than her right. This is ridiculous. Take pictures of the right side of my face all you want. If a man only wants to look at the left side of my face, I'll gladly have some choice words regarding feminism, gender roles, and also probably science for him.

I have eyebrows, and they look great for the three weeks after being waxed. God bless estheticians. 

Other people god bless:
-baristas
-French exchange students
-English majors
-yoga ladies
-poetry teachers
-Albert Einstein
-Andrew Garfield
-siblings that look a lot alike
-skinny boys

I like the idea of learning forever about what I want to learn about.

Someday, I think I will get a degree in English with an emphasis in Teaching, emphasis in Creative Writing with a double minor in theater with an emphasis in playwriting, Art History, emphasis Hellenistic Greece, Gothic Cathedrals, 20th Century.

Someday, I think I will get a Masters in English, emphasis in Creative Writing, playwriting. Masters in Art Restoration.

Someday, I might get a Ph.d. in Art History, emphasis in Gothic Art, especially cathedrals.

Someday, I'll just be a poet and write on the fire escape, maybe boasting a Ph.d. in Gothic Art just because I love it. Just because why not. Maybe I'll win a Pulitzer. Maybe I'll have taught English in the Bronx, restored great art just because it's getting older and older and older and older, but in the end, I'll just be a poet, and I will write from the fire escape, because "Someone asked me/what home was/and all I could think of/were the/stars/on the tip of your tongue/the flowers sprouting from your mouth/the/roots/entwined in/the gaps/between your fingers/the ocean echoing/inside of your/ribcage"

This has been day one of the Manifesto Ultimatum (my way).

And to all a good night.
All my love,
Addy

What did one Frida say to the other Frida?

I am you, and you are me, and we are we, and we are all together.


Elvis has left the building.
All my love,
Addy

Monet and friends.

I don't mean to offend you, but I've something to say.


If I die tomorrow, I hope the right people come to my funeral. I know, I know. This is a very touchy subject for a whole bunch of people right now. I know that a lot of this is because I didn't know any of the people who a lot of you have been feeling the loss of over the last couple months. I know. Maybe I'd feel differently if I had, and I don't feel like I'm adequately expressing what I'm trying to say, but I'm giving it a shot. I don't know. So if you're reading this? Give me the benefit of the doubt.


If I die tomorrow, I hope the right people come to my funeral. I mean that in the most literal way possible. I mean that if I die tomorrow, I know my family will be there, and I hope that the fellowship is there, and Roah, too. I hope August comes and January comes and February comes, even though I'm not sure who cares less, August or January? I hope the "you smell like Addy!" people come. I hope the "you're going to go somewhere with those words of yours" people come. I hope the "I've opened my heart and my kitchen to you" people come. I hope the "come to seminary"s and the "just because 7 over 11 is a over b, doesn't mean a and b are 7 and 11"s and the "sing with me"s and the "Addyson"s and the "goodnight, my darling"s and the "our uterus"s and the "If I ever have a first kiss, it's going to be you"s and the "ttywifhol"s and the "I love you even though you vomit in hotel bathrooms after concerts"s and the "my cute pokemon wishes to make your acquaintance"s people show up. I hope the "I miss your stupid face"s and the "if you only knew how really beautiful you are"s and "It's an such an Abe day you don't even know"s and the "fiend"s and the "you determine your own fate"s show up, and for heavens sake! I really hope Katie comes.


Bluntly speaking, I don't want the people who didn't a.) know me, b.) speak to me, c.) like me, d.) care about me, or e.) all of the above at my funeral.


I guess what I'm getting at is that if I die tomorrow, I don't want to suddenly be appreciated. I'm not saying that everybody needs to appreciate me all of a sudden because I might die very soon (in fact, this isn't about me at all, but I'm an easy person to write about when I'm writing), but really that I'm exhausted of the fact that when people die young, they've suddenly become a big symbol for youth and young love and how much more life they had left to live. I feel like when people die young, everyone seems to lose track of who they actually were. I take that back: Not everyone loses track of who they actually were, but the general populous has a way of getting a little caught up. When you're young, not everyone likes you or knows you or hears you pray or sees you cry or makes you laugh or knows what the inside of your journal looks like. I don't think anyone who didn't should pretend they did after you die.


I guess I don't mean that you can't go to their funeral if you never read their journal, just that when you go to their funeral, you shouldn't pretend that you did.


And, of course, when people die young, there are people who sincerely hurt, and I don't think dying young is something that should, in any way, be taken lightly, but you know what? I'd like my death to be a big deal for the people who actually like me and know me and hear me pray and see me cry and make me laugh and know what the inside of my journal looks like. What the inside of my heart looks like.


I'd like to be taken seriously both in life and in death. Please don't turn me into a symbol is all.


And I'm sorry if you're offended, but all I'm saying is that if the kid across the row in your math class dies tomorrow, don't pretend you loved him if you've never looked him in the eyes and asked how he's doing or complimented his shirt and mentioned how nice his eyes are, and you know about his eyes because you've actually looked at them. I'm not at all saying that you shouldn't be supportive of losses or that you should deal with death in a flippant manner or that you should only go to the funerals of your nearest dearest, of course you can go to the kid across the row in your math class's funeral, but don't go and say he was your best friend (he wasn't) after he dies. If you want to know him, know him. Know him now. NOW.


Or maybe what I'm saying is please care about the people you care about.


Or maybe what I'm saying is please celebrate youth all the time, not just when it's ripped away from you.


Or maybe what I'm saying this that all of those people who I hope come to my funeral? I love you guys. I love you guys a whole lot.


Or maybe what I'm saying is please appreciate artwork before the artist is dead. Yeah. I think that's what I'm saying.


Though the sound overpowers.
All my love,
Addy