Note to my love luv, mi amor, my pound cake, my Reyna, Donnaya

The end. The end of my world and it tore me up because I saw my place in the universe freeze in a nightmare yet  the rest of existence moved on in bliss and tranquility. I was exposed to the tempest hidden inside the harmony passing me. Maybe that's what it means to grow up.  Maybe I am clinically insane. I like chaos. But it is a parasite. It is the drug that allows me to feel like more than what I am, but it is also the drug that descends me when I soar to high. It grants me my ascension into heaven then drags me down before the gates open. It is a paradox. It lets me live but will not let me have a life. Now there are two.

XII.III.MMXIV

An Age of Ascension. A generation of miracles. A luminous fantasy caught in a fog. If the world ends tomorrow, can we find that fantasy? If the world ends tomorrow, would you lay with me? Can we be...?

The haze is getting thicker so lets share this light. My ey3 is becoming torpid, so let me open yours. Let me show you the demons gathered in the sun. Let me show you the fossils in this fountain of youth. Let me sit you down with my devil so your angel will appear.

Would you teach me how to start a flame if I asked? Will you teach me how to start a flame now that I ask?

No questions. Shift.

March, 5 1997. October, 4 1998. December, 3 2014. So it began. So it begins.