we have our grave differences
crashing around these rooms
we speak as though what we believe were facts
no. they are just opinions
packaged by the meaning manufacturing plant
i would be sincere. acknowledge the power
the thoughts have over us
and love you just the same
#katyamills
they gave what they had
the hours of attention undivided they gave
what they made
digitally sealed cryptographic tokens
etched into trees scrawled
upon paper
to fade
#katyamills
looking for meaning
cooking and cleaning
down to protect this
fighting off xxxxx’s
smile may be forced
4 you and your
cameras #katyamills
searching became seeking on an otherwise atypical weekend. seeking became leaking when the sought after was found and overflowed the fullness. leaking became luck when it just so happened the collection was rare and appreciated behind glass by the mass. luck became suck when the interactivity failed to give a deep felt sense of belonging both hoped for and needed. suck became destruction when the place got torn apart ina rage. destruction became relief when they all realized how connected they were by the rage. relief became regret when they witnessed the damage they done. they thought the collection ruined, and history would miss out completely. regret was not set in stone. regret was reformed by the mission. the mission was to get up every day and pray to get out there and then actually get out there. be helpful some way to someone in need. the mission was showing yourself. showing up. making meaning where otherwise there was none. standing courageously on an edge. jumping in.
the colorless moments of stressed inhibition
must i be always backed into a corner before i come
fighting?
a sea of bad news and brake lights
ahead
even tears and smiles
were a stretch
then
from that place of half flag summer fatigue
arose a current from the far
east
we would not know until we opened two walls
the windows
life came into the trees
i awoke feeling different
all the colors returned
time was no longer just a waiting for work
there was meaning
it was personal
it was yours
it was mine
i found myself purposed to be an instrument of some constituent pie charted and marketed and television saturated and worked, yes, worked, worked to the marrow to grow some boundless fruitless profit margin i would never see nor feel nor benefit from :: i found myself channeled to evolve our nation, grow her right off the fucking map, people, not unlike the old English empire. less colonialism. more land. smaller navy.
i found myself
and decided not
to participate
whatsoever
 |
| drama by katya |
Life makes its own meaning day after day. Joseph Campbell knew what people are searching for and it’s not the meaning of life. I want the embodied feeling of being alive. The vitality. This is a greater cause. Still I am driven to write the books I was chosen to write for the world. Lately I feel I am closer to a wholeness of energy, a fullness not unlike tonight’s super full moon. I think it may be a payoff for all the obligations I’ve taken on. It’s an interesting experiment but I have to write the books. Nothing compares to how you feel when you do what you were born to do.
one moment you feel little, then large, and in between. some hang on to your every word, while others wouldn’t know you exist. you care about something, you care some more, then the world becomes full with meaning and you couldn’t care more. you could care less.
you, too, would have left it that way…
you would have had me
to the expense
of my breath
of my lungs
pressing me
goddam i miss you
goddam
 |
| reading at home with cat |
K IS SILENT 