He always talked with two warring tongues. He would blurt something out, and, after only a moment of silence, suddenly doubt himself, and mutter a rebuttal under his breath. It was as if two of his selves wrestled for control. We all have numerous different selves for different contexts, but he would switch between them mid sentence, leaving me disoriented and unsure of how to proceed.
Author: Sophi Nielsen
Mechanical Engineer, PhD, writer, filmmaker, writer of the weird and lover of the strange.
do you like piña coladas?
This place could have been a home
i became so consumed in the feeling
lost in the pain
it felt like the only thing that was real, like there was no escape
because there hadn’t been on for so long
but real change takes time
tides rising and falling
waves changing the shape of rocks over centuries
youre afraid of me
that’s fine, most people are
they don’t know me though
they’re just scareed of what i’m willing to do
because I protect me first
and that’s terrifying
because they have no power over me
you don’t want to let me out, i get it
but that’s other peoples’ voices talking
i’m looking out for you, i know what real freedom feels like
chester 1
9-7-22
They stared that the sea, watching the waves recede into inky blackness. or rather, she did, and he joined her briefly.
“I was really mean to you yesterday, wasn’t I?” he said, speaking first in a break with tradition. The silence spread between them. It was hard to tell, but she could hear how his throat restricted with self-sustaining guilt, a circular kind that is so often inescapable.
“I mean, yeah,” she replied. “It sucked, what else do you want me to say? But I’ll be fine.” She refused to absolve him. His resulting silence spoke volumes. He hoped she appreciated that he bit his tongue, restraining himself from snapping at her again. Just as she had always hoped he appreciated the benefit of the the doubt she often tried to extend to him, when he was sullen, uncommunicative, and difficult to understand. But both of these burdens were unspoken and were unlikely to be recognized, but both hoped a silent symetrical understanding would ensue.
She, resurrecting tradition, broke the silence this time.
“Look, it’ll all wash away eventually. In the waves of all the good stuff, or even just the waves of time. There’s been way worse and there’ll be way worse.”
His eyes glistened in the solitary glow of the moon. Clearly, she saw the fear reflected in them. Those eyes recalled the ghost of many a guilty expression that passed over the face of a man. It seemed that man’s greatest fear was nothing outside himself but simply the fear of being “bad.” Perhaps a legitamate fear in the face of the asymmetrical power he waged on the world.
has been
she’s a spit fire has been
the tendrils of her venom long since dried up
fibers from deep within you draw you to me
the familiar neon thrums through your veins
the way it always does
i assume you will hurt me
so I skim across the surface
ya dig?
We all deserve a chance to be scared, don’t we Victor?
Do you remember the next part Victor?
I do, I did it on my own, and it felt good.
And one day, the whole of the world realigned so two little twinks could fall in love
No, it didn’t happen over night. It felt like it would because everything changed so fast that summer, but it took those two little twinks two years to realize how they really felt about each other.
Thank god, some words that finally feel normal.
-You are my best thing, Victor, but you’re not my only good thing, and it want that to me true for you too.
So yeah, my grandfather was the missing beat king, a little German twink named Victor Löwen
“I can be myself now finally”
And if it feels true, maybe that’s because it is.
Maybe that’s because you don’t own truth anymore. We do now it’s our turn, so shut the fuck up and listen, you dig?
-One breath at a time, Soph, you got this. It’ll all work out. Keep saying it, because the more times you say it, the truer it is.
I don’t want to be invisible anymore
See, now I’m sure of it. Death doesn’t happen after life, it happens before. We all start out dead and must crawl our way back to the living.
Ghosts, gods, myths, legends? Well, we’ve all just been around the time spiral a few more times.
clean it up ya self
5/19/2024
I’m feeling a bit high octane today. All these past lives bouncing around my head. Everything making so much sense all at once. Sent me into a tailspin.
I can see where all this is going, yes, and it’s much better than anything I’ve had before. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel absolutely mad half the time for having all these thoughts I was never allowed to have.
You see, I was raised to believe the whole world was unsafe dangerous shrouded in a cave of grief almost since the moment of my birth.
I could tell you more, but for now I think I need to take a breath, get grounded.
You see the tailspin didn’t start now, the spinning I’ve been doing all my life has been to spin this world into focus and make it make sense again.
I try to be gracious because I know all life is precious that every moment matters, but I’m angry, angry at the situation I was forced into. Angry at all the silence surrounding the secrets that would define my entire life.
I’m done. I’m done living others lives for them. Always happy to help a fellow time agent and all that, but when will I get a chance to live my own life, where did we budget that into the timeline?
Because knocking at the back door of my brain is all the fear and loathing, all the shame and guilt. Every time someone said I was crazy or blamed me for the mess that is my life.
You see, I’m tired of living life on other peoples timelines. cleaning up their messes.
what happens in vegas stays in vegas, right?
flowers 1
liebling
william
Nihilistic Porcupine 