jupiter-suggestion
won't you let me feel like a real devil
"Every wish of the body belongs to it.
And every wish is a hand, expressing that desire.
And every hand is a storm that is bigger than the world, reaching for us."
- We Know the Devil
(24 ~ they/them)
(trans inclusive, queer positive)
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i love you like the tide loves the rocks
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time passes too quickly. you lay down in the forest. “just five minutes,” you say to the trees. “five minutes to be alone. then i can get up and go on living.” you close your eyes. when you open them again the saplings around you have grown massive, and your hair has turned to moss. “you were gone too long,” the trees whisper. “they’ve forgotten all about you.”
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Ruth Madievsky, All-Night Pharmacy
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happy valentine's day! may your heart's blood be sweet and your skin's hunger be sated.
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be true to yourself, is the adage. "i don't know her," you whisper into the lips of your reflection. "she is beautiful, but horrible, and i do not know her. how do i know what is true?"
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im not scared of my own desires. i sabotage myself to make sure i never get what i want for unrelated reasons.
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do you want it or fear it? it occupies your thoughts. it looms over your mind, dark and heavy like stormclouds.
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the wisdom is in letting go. the hands want to clench; the body demands it. the body fixates. the body wants to feel. even against that instinct, some things are best let go.
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i used to wonder about the difference between "love" and "to be in love." how are they delineated? i love lemon ginger tea with honey, i love thunderstorms on summer nights, i love my favourite songs. i love my mother. i love my friends. i did love my exes, but i was never sure if i was in love with them.
you see, love is a verb as well as an emotion. it is something you feel, and also something you do. you are an active participant in the loving of something or someone. but to be in love is passive. it is not something you do, but something you are.
they describe the feeling as "in" love because it swallows you up. maybe for some people it happens quickly, but for others it takes time. it takes weeks and months spent together, spent laughing and crying and holding each other close. it takes fingers soft on cheeks, nervous smiles, hearts pattering. and one day you realize that the love is all around you. you breathe it like oxygen; it is as much within you as it is without.
love is an action, it is a choice, but when you're in love it becomes subconscious. pure muscle memory. you barely have to think about it. the world is more beautiful for the love that you are in.
it's powerful. now i understand the difference. i understand why people write about it so much.
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Speak of the devil and he shall appear. She shall appear, all teeth and eyes. She's beautiful, and very terrifying. Her hands reach out.
"What do you need, sire?"
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do you know the shape of the emptiness? there are so many things you've tried to plug it up with, but nothing fits. they're all the wrong shape.
i'll tell you a secret: nothing will ever fit the shape of the emptiness. it is not a hole to be filled, it is a wound to be healed. the mending comes from within, not without.
the shape of the emptiness will change, with time. if you are mindful, if you work hard, it will shrink, and shrink, and shrink. one day you'll forget how much it used to consume you.
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the seasons grip us with whole hands; cold fingers release one at a time to make room for slightly warmer ones that clamp down in their place.
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god: Yes, you have been given a life in which none of your suffering will ever be meaningful or justified. I am asking you to endure it anyway.
me:
god: We both know that you know that I only speak in silences.
me:
god: A thousand faces, all of them Mine.
me: [A thousand faces, [none] of them Mine.]
god: Beloved.
me:
god: I am asking you to endure it.
me:
god: You did not always live inside this mirror. You will not always be here, suffering.
me:
god: You understand what will happen to you if I look away, don't you? If I blink? I have had to watch every mean and sordid instant of your life, bound within these chains of ardent love. Although you beg me, curse me, and hate me, I will not look away from you. This was the choice I made on your behalf, not My own.
me:
god: No. But I'm close enough to your idea of the real thing that that shouldn't matter.
me:
god: Time flies straight like an arrow, which is to say it doesn't.
me: [N][arrow][is][the][strai][T][.]
god: I gave you language. You ate the fruit. You will not persuade me not to stay my hand.
me: [I am asking [You] [h][ow] to endure it.]
god: On the strength of My having asked it of you.
me: [I am asking [not] to endure it.]
god: Scio, sweetheart.
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they want you to swallow. swallow all the poison they feed you, about how you have to look a certain way, act a certain way, be a certain way, or you're bad, bad, bad. they can try to force you. but it's your throat, after all. you can spit it all back in their faces.
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it's so unassuming. we're all capable of it. we all crave it. it's forbidden. it's addicting. touch; can you think of anything more powerful? more beautiful? more dangerous?
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Idle hands are sinful they say. The devil's workshop. There are times i agree- times i feel stagnation burn me. But others, gently rubbing my beloved's hand, tracing swirls in water, tapping along to songs... if these are the things the devil makes then maybe its not so bad to be idle.
"don't let your hands be idle," they say, because if you're ever idle, then you're not doing what they want.
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Do you think we'd be friends in another universe?
Us in another universe:
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