the bed is heart-shaped 365 days a year

i’m thinking about yennefer covered in blood and sweat declaring i want everything thinking about catching lightning in a glass bottle her garments and lack of endless endless tent at the bar you ask me if i’m sightseeing or just passing through like no one ever had an original thought before and i replied get me what you’re having because it felt like a fun game until it wasn’t i learnt to appreciate myself better when i learnt to draw this year i saw the darkest winter and the coldest summer i trawled the streets for cats you said i remind you of one always showing up unexpectedly sometimes so silent it’s scary but you are not scared i see it in the eagerness of your eyes you are not scared i knew childhood was over when my kindergarten teacher corrected me said the proper term was horse and not horsey think about yennefer in the cinematic opening of the witcher 3 summoning a storm riding furiously on her horsey her hair feathers the colour of a raven i painted an instructional drawing book said life is a series of squares fitting nicely inside one another our lives are an acquisition of squares the place i go when i close my eyes is filled with inverted prisms and death star circles the bed is heart-shaped 365 days a year i don’t need to go to the future to have silk sheets now now i have everything i could ever want i think about yennefer entering court and every hall grand i move silent because today i am feeling right where i need to be and when yennefer declared she wanted everything i leaned forward towards the screen laid in bed in the light of a humble kmart humidifier my cat’s fur tickling my thigh thinking how desire is its own special hunger


like life, stardew valley goes on and on and on until you get bored of planting ancient fruit wine for $$$

i tried to say ‘yes’ for a whole year which resulted in two unwanted children

with a man named Elliot who gave up living in a cosy beachfront cabin

to raise two perpetual toddlers on a farm driven by money and aesthetics

when my grandmother passed i watched horror movies:

Cube, Cube 2: Hypercube, Midsommar, The Circle, The Platform

i realised the scariest thing to exist was indeed as i suspected all along maths

maths prevented my mother from closure because it prevented my grandmother

from being buried and i am upset because i could not prevent myself from eavesdropping

on international Viber calls arguing about keeping my grandmother’s body frozen

longer at costs the family could not afford versus getting a refund losing the deposit

and looking for someplace else the thing is there is nowhere else the world is ruled

by numbers now it’s just in your face about it now the limits on burials able to be done

in a week a limit on those allowed to be present limits because right now the number

of deaths is in unprecedented new levels of unlimited

i didn’t want a tennis ball so i lay still and visualised an endless stream

of green light parking spots after the string of horror movies to my great betrayal

i did not have a single nightmare to pity myself with all my dreams were magical

and pleasant i realised the real horror is distance and helplessness and all i really learned

from the season of endless horror was your grandmother can die the same day

you have two job interviews and maths never really saved anyone it just delays the

inevitable and if i am wrong about everything it is because i want to be


The out-of-season blood-orange moon was so delicious

I am waiting for it to rain. Something in me is falling away. There are emails I am avoiding sending. There are questions I am avoiding answering. There is silence I am avoiding basking in.

I stay in bed for a long time because it is comfortable. I am trying to make sense of a senseless dream.

I am at a crossroads. I say I am going to the doctor but actually, I am going to a tarot reader. I am at the tarot reader but actually I am still standing around the corner. I am wasting money but money is not really the problem.

The problem is I am desperate and impatient to hear a particular thing. The problem is I am drowning in my water bottle.

Ask me if I am okay. I am writing this while I am brushing my teeth. I am always writing. It’s actually kind of annoying. Right now I am sick of myself. Everything is a poem, yes, but not everything has to be. I would willingly die on that hill. I would willingly die on any hill because of the breathtaking view.

I want to eat my meals slowly, in silence, like Thich Nhat Hanh keeps telling me I should try. I am sick of checking the time before and during lunch breaks. I am sick of talking about what I did on the weekend because I can never remember. Last weekend was different.

I remember standing at a crossroads. One road was a whole other world. A whole other life. It beckoned and I asked if I can really have all that along with other wide-eyed questions.

A woman with a lantern in her hand and a crow on her shoulder said through darkness she would accompany me. Through fog, she would enlighten me.

I am not used to accepting help. Why? A tarot reader said it was probably a contract my soul made before I came down to Earth. I refuse to believe I signed anything that would make my life this hard and if I did then I rescind it.

Anyways, I am standing at the crossroads. Unable to go forward. Unwilling to go back. I have pitched up camp. I don’t want it to rain anymore. I slouch sideways in my camping chair, in the sun, and let my weight fall wherever it wants to go.

I am waiting for an ice cream truck to pass by. I want something with a strawberry swirl running through it.

I miss my 1L water bottle. I am still drowning in it.

I finished brushing my teeth an hour ago but this piece of writing isn’t done with me yet. I’m not sure when it will end.

I am at a crossroads at the crossroads.

I am kind of annoyed.

I want a strong cup of black tea.

I want to feel something other than my indecision.

I am feeling reckless and might just take the left road for the hell of it. I’d rather go to Hell than Heaven because at least I’d know what clothes to pack. Nobody has ever talked about what the weather is like in Heaven.

I thought about cutting my hair. Thought about it sincerely. The full moon passed by and I needed to trim all the dead ends in my life.

I want to wear shoes without having to break them in. All these branching paths are giving me a headache.

I should stop listening to eight-hour quantum jumping sleep meditations and believing I’m still in the same place when I wake up. To reorient myself I overlaid the sound of my desire atop yours in a Spotify playlist I’ll never share with you.

My hunger has overstayed its welcome. I am waiting for something dramatic and revolutionary to happen. I am bored to death.

There was a blood-orange moon even though the Internet said there shouldn’t be one and no one else saw it besides me.

If nonsense is happening without logic or reason, then all paths are the same path as they will just lead you where you need to go. It would be better than being stuck or bored.

The camp at the crossroads is dead now. It’s not like those glamping ASMR YouTube videos I obsessively binge-watched for two days. Which I begin to dream I am making. Just me and my hellhound in my matte black jeep. For dinner Shin Ramen cup noodles and frankfurts. For breakfast, an unobstructed view of everything I ever thought possible.

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