My parents are stopping by on Monday and I’m running up against the fact that I can’t just never mention tattoos to them ever, but:

  1. Uh excuse me this is ART
  2. I am finding a way to be at home with my human body that doesn’t depend on being a particular size
  3. I am thirty years old and can do what I want??

I’m writing these down so I can remember them in the event that I need to say my talking points and then say we’re not talking any more about it 🙃

lifehack: turn off retweets

i forgot that you can turn off seeing retweets from specific people which is, my friends, a godsend because there’s some people where i like their original content but they frequently RT inflammatory stuff or respond to bad actors’ content which means that the original bad content gets shoved into my feed, and i’m not about it

because, like, i considered yeeting myself off of twitter entirely for like two hours last night before remembering that i can just TURN OFF RETWEETS, one of twitter’s only good features

god. anyway

fallowing the fields

I haven’t been doing much writing-writing lately, like the kind I could submit to magazines and journals. Some of that is because I’m too busy trying to vibrate out of my skin and into outer space from anxiety; some of that is because I’m not sure what I want to be writing about.

I started writing poetry out of a need to exorcise some feelings about stuff going on with my family and found it to be something that I was decent at. I’ve read a lot of poetry in the last few weeks, though, while we’ve been camped out in my wife’s parents’ house, and I at least have some ideas of… aspirations, I guess? I think I am less interested in making the everyday epic and fantastic and affirming and more in the slow consideration of observations or memories.

Maybe I should just start keeping a journal of things I see or feel or remember that stand out?