Present Tense Delirium Notes on a Plane
Embrace the monster I've become at this altitude, where oxygen deprivation meets social claustrophobia and creates something beautiful and terrible and completely unhinged. Monster.
The Geometry of Humiliation
This is a true story. Or true enough, which is all truth ever manages to be. I watched it unfold like a slow-motion car crash filmed through vaseline, beautiful and grotesque in equal measure
Feel it burn
It felt like baptism. Like we'd finally burned away everything false, everything careful, everything that kept us from this terrible, perfect truth.
Without You
There’s a hunger that lives only in absence, in the pause between your steps, in the untouched half of the pillow where I bury my face and inhale whatever’s left of you, your perfume decaying into something sweeter, sadder, more mine the longer you stay away