i can hear a boat in the bay.
where are you?

i feel tight inside my skin. i read some "young adult" fiction once about a woman changing into another person and in the process her own skin became thin and tight until it ripped apart, almost as though she was molting. i am growing desperate in this way, a need to molt, to split apart and regenerate.

just reading the words of one of my oldest friends. she's sneaking around on the internet, she can't help herself. me either. we are similar. she was someone i once described as the spirit of fun who lives inside me. after writing to her and saying, yes, how much do we wish to be younger? to have things back how they were? now i am sitting here thinking that i've accepted too much mediocrity in myself, i've let my guard down in some ways and put it up too high in others. in the past few years, my fear has grown and my honesty has become diluted. i let everyone who attacked me win. i can think of one person in particular.

it's hard to know what people mean to you until they have chosen to go away from you. i try not to take it personally but my life is riddled with blurry friendships, and everytime they marry off i am concerned. crawling into foreign beds is a path by which i had once experienced the world. and i'm sorry for every time i left before dawn.

a small inner flame which burns everywhere, which inhabits everything like a golden spark in the universal heart, like a pure sound in the universal depths, filling everything, praying everywhere, vibrating in the desert and in the stars, in pain and in joy - that, that everywhere, at the beginning and at the end, in the midst of all things: a single life born of myriad fires.

SATPREM