I normally drink decaf but...
After André 3000, Hanif Abdurraqib, & Olivia Laing
Hi all — take a deep breath before we begin —
I normally drink decaf but they ran out so T. made me a normal espresso and this is the way the beans juiced me this time
i've never allowed myself to believe
that my work is to write though
it only becomes more true
not because of some writerly
conceit but because as those of us
with this affliction learn it is the thin
veil which separates us from madness
and so long as you keep hearing out
both sides not because you are
a nice person but because you are
one who understands passion
cools in the face of mortality
(some english theologian said that)
so long as you do not fear the
season of death your written thoughts
take on a new breath that
thinks not of exhibiting a leadership
in thought (of all things)
that is not trying to sell but rather make
the sort of decisions that honor the buried
(of course that sells) because
you are not writing to make a living
you are writing to make the dead alive so
you no longer have to ask again am i
having grace for my beloved or am i
making myself the lesson? unfortunately
both can be true at once and this is
the thorn you leave the garden with
and bring to the office but first check
J. is still at the shop and T. is at the bar so
you know the world has continued to
turn in the only direction it can which is
an identified orbit above your pay grade
while you can only try to perceive
is the ground shaking under our feet?
at the bar it is flat well more than flat it is
more sure than you were when
you left home for new york the first
of three times you would be unemployed
and uninsured yet made the mistake of
telling mom your period didn't come
in those first three months
isn't it strange how relieved you can be
when blood returns? isn't
it strange how quickly the situation
ship and the strangership and
the strange friendship burn at the
stake become your heart?
did you even watch that movie that
said not to dance on sinking ships?
but if god made man why would he
stop at the brain? you bag up the leaves
for the year and wait for the day
of the gaze that renders someone
more faithful to their beloveds not less
wait for the day where all you had to do was
stay
"In 2020, Olivia Laing began to restore a walled garden in Suffolk, an overgrown Eden of unusual plants."
They write: "My diary was full of notes, worried accounts interspersed with dreams of fertility and repair."
Writing is a form of gardening but also
I write because it is a form of staying.
!! Leaving you with the occasional endorsement for my NYC dwellers — Botanical Brothers is the best value I’ve found for flowers. Curation beats what I could DIY at a fancy shop, for way less $, and just one order yields arrangement combos that can last me 3 weeks (w/ tender care). We also love the effortless tone of voice in the explainer inserts, which can only be described as very English, a little mysterious 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘
If you’re feeling a little goth, a lot of billz, Saffron is the way.
—V