I was too hard, so we went away

 ...

It was too hard, so we went away 

...

Playing the harmless villain 

in like-like ... 

the harmed virtuality 

(since you came of age)

Write 'my'

I don't want to be "our savior"

Write 'my' 

Make me (sic) yours 

What do you think I've been working so hard for?

~rmmbr me 

~OUT (&)

~workinglikecrazy

a breakup letter in your absence

We live in a country that considers me a second class citizen because of gender and sexuality. We don't want to be second in my personal life as well. Second to a straight man no less. But, it still rearticulates a thing and it makes with bad. And, we know, we know the violence. Emotional labor. Stored there in the politic that is personal. We want. Decisions feel free and empowered, because .gov isn't going anywhere. Restricted not broadened for a forseeable. 

A "future"--fuck a scot for life--rest of ours enough, basically too.

my friends told me -- probably never real

[  but]

-- held my [  hand] at night, recounted times -- longed in low light & how (...well then) grateful -- felt for access to a body. to hold to stop from shaking and breaking down from lack. loved it just like a child of [  +kink]. -- let me cry alone every time because -- doesn't believe in obsessive love and couldn't betray with attention. And, when it was all said and done that night before(times) I cried again like a little child and with [  +kink], we were alone in the next-to, held our own hand inside, without word or touch. -- pulled away beforetimes. it's always the same. we forget the rules. we ask for too much. beforetimes -- said we couldn't be in a life anymore

[  but]

beforetimes are now again. I can tell from the moved and the unmasked.

a chewed cheek. a red streak. i wet a wetness, so to speak. [read me]

we had a beautiful night in a dome of strangers and 2 hours after, worry, with hopes of no mention the next. --don't be jelly. don't be sad-- we can't talk to her like that anymore.

we spend our meditation money wishing her possibilities, terrified of her privilege. to fall apart, a never-known. we won't be there to share. on a support that holds air. hot-like and choppy. for an underbelly.

lip stained. licked your teeth. all night, like a bloody genius.

I tried to hold a light.

She felt small next to a social spark.

I assured her all relations were short-lived & interest was not sustainable.

(I wanted to give her space, but I didn't know how)

    &

I showed up at the door, a month later.

(we can't define an attraction that doesn't happen on our time)

And, we know how dead-desperate & repugnant our insecurity can be, but we used it with great success on our love's sleeve.

you know you've got me in your pocket

 a cracked glass, no better use of my time--like mid-september 3 years ago

i sext in horrors, but they don't get it

 for hours on end, without a moodlet for it, reminded of how we make space for it. time. allow a possibility, but dead, cream is off. keep me all the same, but not fascinated not impressed upon. we don't sparkle do we? and the only way to again is to move out and then in.

love it or list it

 can we put all the gifts we've made you on our cv?

all the morning support, curation too.

welcome to a funhouse in KS where we looooose all sense of self (w/e that is)

"in the 3 worlds, identity is lost. only pleasure is recognized. only joy is unmasked."

no one wants to know us anymore and we don't blame the lot.

"happy men(?) don't make good colonists (oh!)"

"to Take a planet, to mold a world, you need hungry men, angry men, discontented. they must stay discontented."

explore the capabilities and limitations of transmedial situations linked to aesthetics, materiality, and politics

*triggered*

roleplaying caretaker, wide open reception in the field

 at first. a glance. so hard. to stare.   but there are things (a retired chatroom) we don't say (we retire to the chatroom) some things are true (oddly, I'm dad) but you know this (we are what we are) we fantasize you love us most (I'm baby) we want to fuck the other 2 (we retired the chatroom) we want to fuck the others 2

parlor trick: emerging technology

 dead

social

This book is exactly as the title describes, but not what you've come to think it means. Not about leveraging someone else's unresolved pain for one's own acclaim. Instead, about the way we live, move, articulate movement in a system.

 essays about misery and prom, I mean porn.

PANIC ROOM

 a studio space is a space you buy to make improvements

i miss our own tangled legs in the cold night

as mandatory reporter, report others abuse, but not own.

petrified forest:an institution         we didn't tell them in the tutelage that

when the project lives beyond the site-of-self we can no longer access it

becomes a hanging limb, dead-spun identity without embodiment: my hair is dull + lifeless (needy)

oh, us, always thinking of our history

 even abroad, in 2019, we wrote:

in a history of domination, remember, pls use the ukrainian spelling, not russian

oh, US, always thinking we own a history (READ)

we are a forest scene with cleaning

 a simple codeine or valium

we don't want to tell you how easy to forget, an effortful switch full of history, we mean baggage

a simple we can't manage without

of course lies, with dominant culture in back pocket with subordinate knowledge-like-lack full of sour

the outsider in their game is always a loss

 if you don't believe, don't believe.

an affirmative against me, the bare minimum

the bare minimum against me, as affirmative +action

Find a Root Bios Wound -- Visualize It & Sprinkle That Garden

Visualize it & the protective mechanisms you've learned; sprinkle golden light on that wound and construct a timeline doing the same. Try to heal and appreciate it.

oh you shiny thing

 sorry;sorry;sorry

I'm a weird mood

sorry;sorry;sorry

truthcaster "I've never seen you so sexual and I like it."

is a project in a journal neither academic, rather crass yet elitist: we sprung. 

hold a candle on the y-axis and i'll blow us

 wire + tubes, underwater

how we work, together--if my ambition fails, as its wont to do--we work are over

when the kevin dies at the end

 maybe it can live on to perform (in the anonymity of x-&-z)

a thing in (generation) you

                                            i am performing in you, on the other side of this flesh

                                                                                                                          screen

                                                                                                                           ghost

hold a candle on the y-axis and i'll blow us

i am planting little seeds :me: :inside you:

 we just keep thinking the same things over & over

this is how we exaltation ourselves of them.

with a inhalation, fume, look for poetry in shelves after

but never read the person sitting opposite.

it was cold all the time.we couldn't eat.each other first of all

 {a}music|{video}|

to repeat the obvious, the club is our church

 happy birthday

*rubs back*

we forgot a bday

*rubs back*

unlit, 

           for a 3rd year

RPT: my home state hates me :RPEAT

 (and disney)

where all the villains are coded smh

we said it's been a dry spell!

 watching into a space of love

trying to feel queer again, wet

gay even.

a closet of christians, to student

my home state hates me. you. &everyone

a extended travel scene, ant on the ground

 OPEN [EARLY EVENING] ant on the ground

travelogue, 3 minutes of filming

in a grayscale space, followed by tears

expletives in the dark

--must unprofessioned--

now i write poems in my head, we don't posted

 now i write poems in my head

while i rub my own back

*we've been a dry spell*

schedule send, highered

 operational

to exist

  zoom (it's) a consumption we cannot swallow (again, and again)

outside control

 paranoia

it is a minor play

`an off proscenium` 

it was cold all the time.we couldn't eat.each other least of all

i wore a mask

she wore a mask

and she wore a mask

so did her mask too

you think i'm garbage? you haven't even smelled me yet.

10 days in [sic]

 

xy-they-okay

 

xx-and she-decided it was worth the risk

 

xx-so we-decided it was worthy of loss

 

 

(and, self-fulfilling prophylactics,

 she just had to act normal, 

she just had to care for a friend)

and, these hands can't supply it

bc we are chosen to be a thing to escape from, through this process, we make erotic-more with absence.

we won't know and won't hear. a whole cut-offs thing.

in 2 weeks, like nothing, bc *what's a girl to do?* bc, surely it was our fault anyway (read:sarc). 

xxx

it is cruel in-silence

 and, they know it. knew it. blew it.

blew it: a wish we could, posture, but what's to have?

this limp, dead, impotent body, wasting in the end. 

+++we can't sit around hoping for a notification, with a name like yours~heartbreaking, but understood. solidly adult, solidly certain that we just want a happy ending for someone~even if these hands can't supply it.

QUICKTIME

fleshy tentacles, tubes underwater, digital intimacy, much like h e n t a i  

but, but, bad but, keep you hard but, problematic but, gets you .h e r e.

cry yourself awake again, like a goddamn genius

 make a bed

eat a cake

  take a break.we were never going to sleep

we stationed. after the deprivation.

 i run this hospital: in certain light, a wrist can look like a heartache.

we cared for a body with a worst in-quality. feel compelled

you lose a Drive

sounds like an awful way to live (owner)

and i trace your (owned) to an outline of our history of adaptations

they was a little/ what's a daddy do?

"how can I make an elf cry?"

she said we were beautiful

in a glow up of the screen (as making piece for her)

she said that we looked like Legolas. she said,

we are singular in memory and when she leaves, she just remembers that we cried.

a lot.

*like a lot, a lot.