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[twoinoneflesh]

tuesday september 3rd, 2024

my fingers prickle as they long to put words to paper, i can barely contain them. then, a thought. a conflict so inconsequential in reality, but to me makes my heart ache and my lips tremble. it shakes my world. i fear abandonment, for it is all i know. a family with no connections. a child deprived of touch, of warmth. a cycle of such vague closeness and monumental loss that creates a bleating message stamped across my forehead, cupped in my hands as i fall to my knees. this message is as follows: hold me. i withstand my burning desire to beg for intimacy that is no longer fleeting, for no one can know that i secretly crave familiarity and tenderness. on the outside, a rock. only until i cannot contain it anymore. only until the floodgates open and there is no stopping my gnashing misfortune and desire. i need to feed. my solace from these feelings is hidden between unmentionable pages. it is a place where i am fucked back to stasis and cradled in my vanity. it is a place where i have power and control, for often, i have none. these pages speak a language not many can comprehend. an ancient desire lurks between them. in exchange for the silence of my feelings, i bear this burden in a place of lascivious gehenna.  

[twoinoneflesh]

June 28th, 2024

i am waiting for sin. i almost passed out at work today. the pain of miss james was too much today. i dont compare miss james to others the same way i used to when romance was placed upon the table, but i do have hollow feelings that haunt me when i find happiness in another person.

i am waiting for sin. i do not want to betray miss james. part of me is sure i will not by finding love. the other part is devastated that miss james is watching me from above, if you believe that, with another in her place.

i am waiting for sin. my thoughts bounce between miss james and the one in her stead. of both of their embraces. of how they check all the boxes in different ways. im shivering, i crave the touch of another, and it is not miss james today. no matter how much i miss her, that is not what i am missing about miss james right now.

i am waiting for sin. im not listening to myself very well today. i can tell because when i want to hide in the arms of another is when i need to be alone and let my emotions run their course. i still crave distraction. i want to kiss. i want to sleep. i want to fuck. i want to eat. i want to drown.

[twoinoneflesh]

June 27th, 2024

i worry that if i write about them, then the same thing that always happens will occur again. my words for the time we spend together are jumbled and fleeting, but clear to me. i feel discomfort with myself. with my emotions running their course. pause. when the worst thing that can happen to you happens to you, how do you move forward from that? how do you verbalize that? when your heart yearns for nothing and you connect with something, how do you cope with that?

pause. i lost everything and i kept looking for it again and again. the comparisons have been killing me. could they ever be like him? no. i torture myself with imagination run amok. if he were here right now, james would applaud me on my choice and quote macho man randy savage. he would say i have finally stopped wasting my energy on those who refuse my brick-laid boundaries and approached someone who is kind to me. pause. someone who respects and trusts me. someone who is ravenous for me, who validates my manhood.

someone with little shame. i love this. i seek shelter in connection and for the first time, i run blindly at it like a stoner's sticky fingers wrap around a scalding nail until they recoil when they've forgotten how it always goes. pause. i do this despite my unending failures in romance. i am the fool. i am happy to be the fool today. in a portrait of me right now you'd see me walking around with no underwear on and my active heart held in my hand and at my side. bleeding on the pavement below. awaiting further instructions.

pause.

[twoinoneflesh]

Rockville, South Carolina

[twoinoneflesh]

June 26th, 2024

n's specialty is romance. i learn this rapidly. our two short days together tell me more than i expect to know. a lot more than i expect to know.

i waste no time charting new territory. their humble body becomes my map but i have no interest in cartography, rather i am a subterranean explorer under the covers. i think i also tell them more than they expect to know. we begin to feel more emotions than we expect to feel. this is something both of us experience.

n is very direct in a way i admire. the words they choose resonate with me. i have goosebumps, but it's just because it's cold in here. i associate it with the ticklish feeling they give me, as their fingers dance around my flesh.

i find myself in what appears to be a lesbian dynamic but i, myself, am a man. a fag. i worry if a fag and a butch are cut out for each other-- this brings entirely new meaning to opposites attract.

i think about giving n perspective. i could tell them even more than they already know about me. more than they could venture to know about me in such a short week. if they read the pages of my life that i can hand them, they would know.

perhaps too soon. we arent meant to know so much now, the burdens of love and knowing could sabotage us. but this is a strangely sapphic experience. the uhaul could save us or send us down the treacherous path ive been down dozens of times with no return.

there is a lot more than i expect to experience that i am experiencing.

there is more today.

i patiently wait.

[twoinoneflesh]

June 25th, 2024

the lighthouse keeper doesn't text me back. that is ok-- i don't need him. there is a new presence in my life. there is the biker and the empath and the token from a past life and the stoner now. the Cancer is all of these things, but they have a replica of the voice of the different kind of cancer in my life.

they kiss my cheek. i feel a deep solace like i have known the Cancer for a lifetime, but in reality i know so little. that is ok, i think the peace i find in their touch, in just their presence alone tells me that this is my next story in my long anthology of love. maybe one that wont fail miserably this time.

the Cancer tells me quite bluntly of their admiration for me in ways ive never anticipated. they use words like "profound" to describe me and im suddenly so full of warmth. i find that i cannot get close enough to them, and they seem to share this sentiment in return.

their skin is like a baby blanket, i want to wrap myself so deeply in their embrace. the Cancer's sweetness is my escape. we hold each other in such a homoerotic way, bodies intertwined like lovers depicted in sculptures. i tease them, and they like it.

i miss the Cancer. i want them to lie next to me as my arms curve so perfectly around their beloved waist, while we melt into each other and into dreams. i miss their closeness, their taste, the smells and sounds of the time we spend together. i look forward to our next connection with fluttering anticipation.

the lighthouse keeper hasnt texted me back, but ive barely thought of him. but the Cancer?

i am enamored

and i greatly look forward to this chapter.

[twoinoneflesh]

June 20th, 2024

its payday. i rejoice in my week of financial security before it becomes the week of financial insecurity. i fear mountainous change in my life-- the kind that is either meant to be or the kind that will humble me fast and hard.

the winds of change blow so strong, but i do not find myself ready for them. do i want this as badly as it seems to want me? my apprehension knows no bounds. my heart flutters and fingers tremble as i write this, for hours now unsettled and likely for weeks too.

but it's payday. my measly allowance, this time, frivolously wasted on horseback riding, as if that will somehow ease my sorrows while draining my wallet in tandem.

i am anxious. i wish for the doting attention of a man to give me a reprieve from my discomfort, from my anxiety. im hungry, for many things. im starving.

[twoinoneflesh]

I must be feral. Something about him today just seems more delicious, more tempting than usual. I watch from my usual hiding spot, porthole and all.

The way his jeans hug in all the right places, emphasizing the ass you’d never know he has because he hides it every other day of the week. I just can’t put my finger on it, why he tugs at my feelings and lust in all the right places too, but at all the wrong times.

You’d think by now we’d have kissed— but no. Instead I am wrapped up completely inside of my head, tumbling over my feet, loving and hating every second of the game. A game is all it is. One second they ignore me so hard my head hurts and I hate myself and feel unlovable, ostracized. The next they give me more attention than they’ve ever given me and I still long for more. Greedy. For something that means nothing. The longing will kill me if I let it, and I will. The only thing I want but can’t have, an apparition, compelling but never mine. A trick of my mind, a spell of his to keep me pleased. Docile. So weak, easily driven, wishing I could have more and knowing it’s so close but that he will never give it to me.

I think we fear each other. I think we fear the cliche way mountains seem to part and the room suddenly clears when we connect in that very clear, very close way but we are always far when it happens. I know we fear each other. I think of what might happen when he reads what I think, will he know it’s him? Better yet— will he care? So self righteous in my knowledge of his interest in me, but so insecure when it comes to the delivery. I won’t wait for him forever. In fact, not at all. I’ve waited longer than he deserves, and I am like the unused nightstand, stale 5 week old glass of water, condom and candy wrappers from a past life and all. I’m discarded, forgotten like the toys you never like at the bottom of the drawer, no longer the utilitarian favorite I long to be. I am not in heavy rotation, I’m the last record you want to play. I’m the vhs tape in your storage unit begging to be popped in, played, and rewound in the true nature of my purpose. Molding. Waiting for the precious connection that tape cleaner and my nose have better than tape cleaner and an actual tape.

He teases my need to feel needed, my need to feel noticed. The redirect or the blatant lie to quell my obvious desire to share our worlds with each other. His enthusiasm for me is something I fear, because I fear it is not real. I’m convinced it isn’t.

My effervescent heart. It burbles like a dying man’s last breath, choking on his own blood. It feels that way too, when I feel love. Something I do not think I was meant to feel. A revelation my body and mind are not ready for.

[twoinoneflesh]

ver. 2 // excerpt from the lighthouse keeper

[twoinoneflesh]

[twoinoneflesh]

June 17th, 2024

jesus wept. and yet, i think we all weep more.

i sit alone in a cafe. they have this large glass garage door. today, it is only 55 degrees fahrenheit, and they have the bottom of this huge door cracked. it tickles my ankles. as the breeze rushes in through its 14 inches of freedom, i find little goosebumps in little places. i sit right next to the door because the sting of chilly breezes in june makes me feel alive, even if it feels wrong.

i hear a song that makes me feel alone. isolated in my nostalgia. lonely, i sip on hot chocolate that i expect to burn my lips and the tip of my tongue, but it never does. sirens blaze. i can see the cop shop from this impressive window, not a very impressive view.

i take a bite of an orange that i expect make me feel something, and it is not what i anticipate. it tastes of the essence of all purpose cleaner, as if it had no flavor at all until someone spritzed mrs meyers in its general vicinity without a second thought. i eat it anyways. i tear away the pith, my hands now smell of it.

i havent written for a few days. i worked a triple. 13 straight hours, 2 hours of rest, and then another 8 hours. i do not get lunch breaks. i do not really get breaks at all. for 2 days i could barely bring myself to leave bed. my fatigue knows no bounds. i used to have to do this every day, at least now it is only every couple of weeks. i think about all the ways i can to leave the industry and recover, i draw blanks.

i go to the cafe to write, and now, i do not want to write. there are many ways in which i feel deeply unhappy with myself. i do not want to write them, but i should. i wait for sin to get off work so we may exist in the same space together again. sin is married but the two of us are more like a married couple than sin and their wife are, but that is because sin is in love with the people who can't figure out how to love them in return.

i shiver in in the cafe and i take a long draw from a contraband device. i try hard not to get caught, the breeze aids me in this even though it overwhelms my senses. i cant make it a day without smoking. my dopamine left me long ago, and this is the only way i find comfort when the pangs of panic arrive.

im supposed to clean today. i would rather return to bed. i think the depression has reared its ugly head once again. i need a haircut. i need a vacation. i need a new job. i need to get laid. i need to move. i need to leave this city. i need to reinvent myself. i need to be a parent. i need to own a farm. i need to get away. i need

[twoinoneflesh]

ver. 2 // kitty’s world

[twoinoneflesh]

In the emotional spectrum of human beings, we can be classified in so many ways. By far, most commonly, I hear “emotional vampire.” I understand perfectly what that means. And here I am, if the term doesn’t exist yet, I am an “emotional hooker.” Transactionally vulnerable. A sensitive, habitual hussy who refuses to open up until I am sure of the fact that there is something on the table for me. Easily duped though, I struggle to determine who is worth the time and who will leave me broken and mangled and regretting every single second I found faith in another human being.

I find that I write about this a lot—go figure, I wrote a whole zine you probably bought and didn’t even read about it. Tossed aside, wool pulled over my eyes by the hands of another. Another who is compelling, a masquerade of kindness, desirable to me, feigns yearning for me. My foolish nature often rears its ugly head, but under the guise of having faith in humanity, and confidence in my own judgement. Imagine—a world where that is no longer soured to me and instead there is real faith and trust that people can be kind, and good, and think both my mind and body are sexy.

This is simply a childlike fantasy. The world around us could never be so benevolent...

Its benevolence is myth.

[twoinoneflesh]

June 13th, 2024

today i dont know what to think, but i think again about the lighthouse keeper and find myself daydreaming little notions. little notions that are fiction, no doubt.

to me, they are vividly real.

in my head, a man just like the lighthouse keeper loves me. he cherishes me, the way the lighthouse keeper would don his woolen hat and canary raincoat and brave the rain for anything, he would above all risk the rain for me. he is steadfast in his loyalty, willing to work in desperate and isolated conditions because he is nothing if not a reliable man. he fears little, but change is his enemy. stability is his sweet caress.

in my head, the lighthouse keeper loves me. he pulls me closer and his long mustache tickles my face as his lips embrace mine, no words. unable to wait, he has forgotten to take his coat off-- and i think nothing of it as the raindrops are pressed into the layers of my clothes and soon onto my skin. it's his way of worming into my clothes without so much as touching a button. the lighthouse keeper does not say words, his low and forceful grunts say all he needs to say to me, i understand the rest.

in my head, i make the lighthouse keeper feel loved. the lighthouse keeper has been hurt before. that is the only fact in my story, but i will the rest to be true with all my might. when i look upon the lighthouse keeper, i see the most beautiful human i have laid eyes upon, and this is also a fact. i am lost in his sea swallow eyes. in his hypothetical kiss i hear the roar of the ocean waves. in his real kiss will i hear the same? i want his kiss to be like a conch shell, showing me the heavenly sounds of the beach no matter where i am.

in my head, the lighthouse keeper wants to fuck me. i am like a sea anemone. i am dangerous but also a place where some may seek shelter. my heart like coral, it hardens and stays that way. the inkling of the lighthouse keeper being close to me makes me tingle all over. i can feel the lighthouse keeper's stubble on my neck as he presses his lips to my ear-- it is then that i really hear the ocean. as his hands travel along my body i am engulfed by the waves and gasping for air. the unpredictable current has whisked me away. the lighthouse keeper has whisked me away. my fantasies have whisked me away.

in my head, the lighthouse keeper is in love with me.

in real life, the lighthouse keeper hardly knows who i am.

in real life, he has never met my gaze.

in real life, i might never know the lighthouse keeper.

in real life, i am alone.

[twoinoneflesh]

Orange tree

[twoinoneflesh]

June 12th, 2024

today i think about how we are, to god, an anomaly. our bodies and minds so infirm, so easily swept away in the tide, so easily dashed against the rocks, so quickly we are reduced to nothing. to say god does not understand would be both a fallacy and a truth, for he is omnipotent but also does not truly know the fragile human experience.

maybe he does, and for this reason he has not allowed me companionship or family, because the burden would be too much for me to bear. i digress, i do not trust his judgement anyways. i live a sinful existence, one not meant to see unconditional love or raise children. with this life, they may only see pain. is that fair? would they resent me for bringing them into a world where dying children and doctors are slaughtered, people starve to death, and babies are taken away from their mothers who are left behind to rot because they cannot afford the luxury of being perfect, of having help?

this is why i do not trust his judgement. because with a benevolent god, the suffering of the masses simply for existing would not occur. god is feeble just as man is feeble, because a god who is an omnipotent man still does not truly understand motherhood, and therefore understands little else about life. omnipotence is knowledge, but it is not empathy, and humans are deeply lacking in empathy from each other and from the heavens.

i see a newborn suckle at her mother's breast and think to myself how badly i wish for that connection now, though we all had it in youth.

to know so little but know so much.

to be so present but so far away.

to be connected without words.

each newborn is more powerful, more empathetic than god. maybe that is why he allows us to have them-- we are earned just one pure, untainted thing in this world of sorrow.

[twoinoneflesh]

'fissure in a lava flow, "lantern" flowers' + 'fissure in a lava flow, petals of "tongues of fire" flowers' in réunion, indian ocean in nils-udo: art in nature (2002)