Made To Love, But Not To Be Loved; Made To Understand, But Not To Be Understood; Always The Poet, Never

bitch this is all you’re gonna get. this life, this face, this body. you better not ‘maybe in another universe’ your way out of everything. sit your ass down and face this. go make tea and have a picnic and read a goddamn book. kiss your loved ones, send that damn text, and hug your siblings. this is all you’re gonna get.

you havent experienced jealousy until you read the raven cycle and want to be apart of gansey’s band of merry men. or whatever.

"How many graves will I need, to bury everything that died inside of me?"

I might never be a notable writer and I might never get a huge book deal and my books might never get turned into movies but who cares? I've found absolute paradise sitting on my porch in the rain weaving words together and feeling the cool wind of an august storm on my face. No failure could ever take this sort of joy away from me.

But the dark feels different in November.

– Nina MacLaughlin, from "The Dark Feels Different in November", The Paris Review

it is november, and yesterday it felt like it was supposed to be snowing. in boston, november used a winter month, not a fall month. it is supposed to be chilly; rarely capping over 45F. it is a sweater-and-jacket month. it is a "maybe a scarf too" month. in my childhood, november meant blizzards and sleet.

it did not snow. tomorrow the weather predicts a high of 76.

i have spent so many years of my life studying the longterm possibilities of climate change - the culmination of capitalism wreaking havoc on the bodies of people, animals, plants - but every so often i am still shocked by something small and personal.

in a hundred years, when someone goes outside in boston - will they know the feeling of "snow in the air"?

i know it's a learned feeling, a sensation that maybe only longterm experience can teach. a few years ago, i was walking with my friend who had just moved up from the south. i said it smells like snow and she gave me this look like - what the fuck. i said it feels like snow too, which didn't help. she looked up to the bright blue sky and then back at me and then back at the sky. 12 hours later, we had 3 inches. you can just tell if it's going to snow.

except i can't tell, anymore. i stand outside in a tee shirt and watch my dog dance around a lake. we're in a drought and the skin of the water has peeled back twenty meters. the lake is tamed, quiet, puddlelike and sour. my pokemon go app warns there's a weather condition in my area.

my dog gets too hot from running and sits in the water and i want to laugh about his long frame and how awkwardly he sits - and i can't. some simian part of my brain is scratching the walls. it was supposed to snow. it was supposed to snow, but now it's warm instead.

during the last full solar eclipse, the dogs and the birds and the crickets went crazy under utter darkness. we laughed at them then, promising it will all be okay in a moment. but some part of me is still locked in that long night: some animal sensation.

something is wrong, my body says. i can't afford eggs or rent. i go outside to watch a sunset and listen to birdsong. i don't bring a jacket. allergies are killing me this season, allergies i didn't have as a kid. everyone comments that halloween has started to feel strange, offkilter. that it's hard having "holiday cheer." my body thinks it's april, and then it thinks we're in september, and then june.

something is terribly wrong, she whispers. go outside. it is supposed to be snowing.

Life goes on, without checking if it's messing some passengers, without looking behind.

Life goes on, even if the clock stopped for you, even if you didn't go on.

Life goes on. It doesn't care about what you lost in the way, and it wouldn't let you go back.

Life goes on, like nothing happened, despite all that happened, and leaves you feeling like nothing will happen anymore.

Life goes on. Maybe I'll catch up one day, maybe the time will stop just to wait for me, to let me take a breath and get out of my overwhelmed mess, maybe it will allow me a break to break down peacefully, without worrying about the lost time when life goes on without me.

Life goes on, what a surprise, the sun will always set and rise, night will fall and the next day will come, forgetting about the people who couldn't come along.

hey pookie 😘😏😩😩😣😖😩😩😤😤🥵😳😩

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