Month: October 2019

Mieux vaut être seul que mal accompagné.

October 17, 2019January 24, 2021 distantcaveLeave a comment

That 11:43pm crisp, nighttime air. It’s enchanting. Maybe it’s the peach-flavored wine or the fact that this life a beautiful one to live. Where’s my head at? I don’t reckon I realize that enough, or make something out of that utterance. I’ll put it on the to-do list.

I’ve been thinking about an assortment of things. Some I feel are silly, inconsequential matters. And other thoughts pertain to what I really want in life & how I plan to get there. It’s not always a smooth ride, as I’m sure many of you know and have learned time and time again. Does anybody really have it easy? Is that even worth debating? Save the chat for what will help us grow.

It’s the sweet wine, I’m sure of it.

L’amour l’emporte.

October 16, 2019 distantcaveLeave a comment

1 year of living in the same residence. It’s bittersweet but hazy. The same four walls, the same pitfalls. To what degree can a human life change? I find it interesting how much the view changes from the other side of the hill. Where it’s still.

My place is still like a landfill.

I mean — don’t freak out; it’s minimal and all. Duh. But there’s something about the fabric of the curtains, something about the unfinished art projects I put to the side, and keep there. Lately I’ve been working on more pieces, but it’s a steady growth. And that sums up my living in this space, this enclosure — with this vast area of breathing life around me. I am beginning to sound a bit too Romanticism-era (literature) which cracks me up because why not. I can keep my prose & manifest dreams or something of that nature.

Il n’est nul besoin de la présenter.

October 10, 2019 distantcaveLeave a comment

A young, courageous & feminine adult who wears dresses year-round / Seeking to make life more romantic. Loves the most to be photographing flowers, and urban & chaotic settings and imagery. Spending hours in rose gardens is heaven.

I am not immune to the wonders of the darkness; at times this is where I recoil. But this new, grand gesture of stepping out into the hot sunshine has left me with flushed cheeks and a warm hospitality. / An introvert, an ambivalent trajectory, multiple passes for cursing despite attempts to be more polite. Writes poems while waiting in line. Flirts with language.

Writing preserves memories, and I need those. I wonder where this will take me.