(no subject)
being raised in a defunct household where human crying was not so much catastrophe as it was ritualistic, home was always an inert word. and it's not that sorrow or abandonment or death made it this way, but rather the naked fact that things were never whole. they didn't fall apart--they were always already disparate, cut up by an apartheid of communication barriers.
perhaps this is why i give so much significance to words and expression. without exposure and clarity there are only bodies.
+++
usually a new year feels like some arbitrary division of time. but this time around, this moment even, it feels like a new era. ends and beginnings. change. can't wait!
perhaps this is why i give so much significance to words and expression. without exposure and clarity there are only bodies.
+++
usually a new year feels like some arbitrary division of time. but this time around, this moment even, it feels like a new era. ends and beginnings. change. can't wait!