I had big plans. Huge plans.

End world hunger, end poverty kinda plans.

Buttttt then my friends realized they needed to put me in the hospital for mania.

I’m still wrestling with this.  Who the hell am I?  What is wrong with me?  I don’t know what to do, how to feel.  I’m in “recovery”.  Felt so alive, felt like I was realizing my true purpose.  I mean.  This has all happened before, six years ago.  Just a rerun I guess.  I take my pills. I do that much.  All my muscle has deteriorated. Not working, not dancing. not sure what I am to do.


If this disappears it’s tell me its okay by gnash.


for my favorite dancer

Your eyes will blaze, your heart will be seen from space

your love will knock people over

I’m ALL IN motherfuckers

Would you give me permission to s(care) you if I could convince you this roller coaster has an endgame, that I’d always always bring you back to safety… not only that… you were safe the whole time.

this is just how rollercoasters are built.  Let’s fucking DO THIS.

I’m all in, 100%.  I’m your ride or die.


Let’s roll.


I want to be thrown through the window.

Metaphor for surprise, perhaps terrifying but. . . you’ve lived your whole life inside.  You can see the sky.  How would it be to taste it on your eyelids?

I want to taste the sky on my eyelids.

Metaphor for (exploration? mysticity?), the strangeness of the absolutely new, to turn the page of evening and find

bones of water, excavation of consciousness

Year zero constellating my fingertips.


Feel like this song is not… quite… representative of the poem.  Whatever!  That’s what’s called a mixed bag… so what if there are hundred dollar bills stapled to the back of your radiator?  Who could make staples that strong?  Wizardry.

The national conversation on consent is extremely relevant to connection based dancing. You need to listen to your dance partner, listen to their body, read comfort level, do not force movements.
I have had partners who KILLED my body, could not read the limits of my spine, wrenched my arm etc, but they were so fun to dance with that I just let it slide. Not this year. If you do that to me I will never let you lead me again. So. men that dance, you best learn how to follow, or pay me money to teach you how to be more gentle hah.
“looking cool” should be like… number 7 on your priorities of a dance, I am 100% serious.

Watching people fight it out in the comment section on articles about consent/the MeToo movement in general, breaks my heart.





I was lonely.  How do you push someone away when they aren’t respecting your “no” when you’re that lonely?

I could now. I do now.   Glad we’re having the conversation, but people need to stop being f***ing jerks.

I get why people do drugs.

On day two of meditation, and it is so so so hard to get out of my head.


Not to mention, true creative thought.

People who are able to tap into a state of creative flow are indistinguishable from people under the influence.

We were running down the street, snow and ice, negative temperatures.  Throwing each other around, you lead (as in the metal) me blind, I carried you.  I said people would think we were on drugs and you said, “yeah but the really awesome thing is, we’re not”.

I crave awareness and authenticity and I think I finally know the first step in looking for it.

Something is crystallizing.   Here we go 2018.

“Do you dance?”

I mean to say… does the music punch you full in the face, leave you breathing hard, your neurons singed like you’ve been struck by lightning..

Does the elastic canvas of your body birth itself like the ocean in a hurricane

How is your relationship with gravity?

s. e.

Maybe no one can trust me as much as I trusted you

always thought gravity was a ride-or-die,
but I hear the earth is flat now, so…

There was a clock in a formerly well-used room
7 year paper trail stapled to the wall
on how to wind it

I guess it’s still there

handcuffed to your highs and lows

useless heirloom marking time on an altar of obsolescence

Tonight is making a meal of my brain

Exhausted.  Quiet sobbing because it’s four AM here and I don’t want to wake anyone up.  I don’t know what to do.  I don’t know what the best course of action is.

My head hurts.

My lawyer isn’t returning my messages.  I’m starting to doubt her judgement in general.

I guess.. I guess we should apply for the K1 visa again, and just hope it goes through this time.  Another 5-8 months or more of waiting.  Him in the most polluted city in the world.  Maybe I should move to India just to lower my life expectancy to his… or just start chain smoking.

I’m jealous of every single person who gets to live in the same city as the one that they love.  I’m jealous of every single person that gets to live in the same country as the one that they love.  I’m jealous of every single person who dates someone from a country with a high life expectancy.  I’m burning up with hopelessness, reduced to screaming into my pillow.

I don’t know how to do this anymore.

Not having my parents’ support of our relationship hurts.

I miss him all the time.  I’m in India right now and I’m already missing him.  I have to be at the airport in less than 24 hours.



How do you tell someone

I liked you better when we first met.

Your neck chained up in the costume jewelry of arrogance, I can remember clear collarbones of naivety, the future a bright jewel in your eyes.

can’t learn to appreciate what keeps me from seeing your soul, regardless of architecture

what is your pedestal built of

(I miss your feet in the mud with mine)

Post Script:

One can avoid arrogance while sloughing off naivety.  Wish you could have.

Also, speaking of people who aren’t arrogant and deserve better.  His visa got denied on false grounds.  Not sure how to go about dealing with this.  If they aren’t going to follow the rule of law then what’s the point?

Government people… THIS is why people sneak into the U.S.  This shit is freaking difficult.