Don’t kiss me if you’re afraid of thunder. My life is a storm.
At 19, I read a sentence that re-terraformed my head: “The level of matter in the universe has been constant since the Big Bang.”
In all the aeons we have lost nothing, we have gained nothing - not a speck, not a grain, not a breath. The universe is simply a sealed, twisting kaleidoscope that has reordered itself a trillion trillion trillion times over.
Each baby, then, is a unique collision - a cocktail, a remix - of all that has come before: made from molecules of Napoleon and stardust and comets and whale tooth; colloidal mercury and Cleopatra’s breath: and with the same darkness that is between the stars between, and inside, our own atoms.
When you know this, you suddenly see the crowded top deck of the bus, in the rain, as a miracle: this collection of people is by way of a starburst constellation. Families are bright, irregular-shaped nebulae. Finding a person you love is like galaxies colliding. We are all peculiar, unrepeatable, perambulating micro-universes - we have never been before and we will never be again. Oh God, the sheer exuberant, unlikely face of our existences. The honour of being alive. They will never be able to make you again. Don’t you dare waste a second of it thinking something better will happen when it ends. Don’t you dare.
Поэт без родины умирает.
YOU KNOW WHAT I HATE MORE THAN ANYTHING
WHEN YOU ARE TYPING SOMETHING
YOUR HAND SOMEHOW HTS THE MOUSE PAD AND YOUR CURSOR IS HOVERING OVER SOMETHING YOU JUST TYPED
AND IT ALL GETS DELETED
AND THIS IS TUMBLR SO THERE IS NO UNDO
AND YOU COULD HAVE LITERALLY JUST WRITTEN THE MOST IMPORTANT THING KNOWN TO HUMANITY
BUT THEN AFTER ALL THAT HARD WORK AND PERFECT PROSE SOME SHIT LIKE THIS HAPPENS
SO YOU JUST SAY FUCK IT THIS POST IS NOT WORTH THE DRAMA
BUT WHAT IS EVEN WORSE IS IF YOU DECIDE TO KEEP AT IT AND IT JUST HAPPENS AGAIN