blogposting inevitable spacecast
\\09192026
i thank you, babe.
i thank you, now.
i always wanted to kill myself
and you let me
stick my psyche
halfway underground.
\\conditioned to think it's not beautiful-
lives, hitting each other fast and hard.
all these heavy beams leave me bruised-
beautiful.
sweat
sweat
sweat
it doesn't matter how
heavy
i've been before,
i'll dance tonight.
life is better
i'll choose life
tonight.
light
light
light
coca-cola sense of self
strap on your heels,
crush it.
lipgloss nail polish press ourselves together
i prefer the burn of
wonder.
who am i with a chest on fire//?
\\09032026
\roll up to the light
roll up half a joint
for me
would you wait up for me?
\\last night i threw back about half a pack
and i'm not usually quite like that.
last night i slept half past the mast
and i wrapped myself in glassy grass.
and when the sun came to rise
i came to find
there was no place in my life
for me.
\\\i heard a man talking outside
he reminded me of our old life.
i gave you what i had and more
but you're colder than you were before.
and i'm sorry
\\08282026
\the sun comes down hot &
cleanse me with her psychic sweat.
oh, lunar eclipse
i can't believe
what i cannot see.
\\naked boys on the shoreline,
pearls of silence.
holy terrors,
nighttime visions.
\\\i could sit with it forever,
but it's easy to abandon yourself.
it is as easy to abandon yourself
in the voice of a woman
as it is in the arms of a lover
as it is in the clutches of your vices
and the idea of infinite waterfalls of tenderness.
i wish i'd just stop throwing this sand everywhere.
my hands wouldn't burn and sting from those hot, desperate grasps.
i could lay back, remember the sunshine, the way i loved her
and she loved me.
i could hold my head low to the ground, talk about how i really feel.
reach the beating, warm center of it all
and pull the strings of the air that was too painful to breathe.
i'd get up real high in my mind, throw it all back down in colors.
fuck it all.
i'll smoke what i want
and ill teach myself piano.
i'll romance the walls and
i'll know what the fuck to do,
because i'll know what the fuck i am.
i'll take my coffee alone how i always used to.
\\08182026
\pulling and tearing
at these old walls for weeks.
his hand reaches what i can't
to pull it all
down
press it into me.
it's never been like this, you know.
not so close to my beating heart.
would it be wrong to treasure this?
to let myself feel at home?
i guess i'll go.
\\08152026
\tally it up the way i like.
remove desperation
replace with abundance.
remove regret
replace with gratitude.
write it out and let it
sail thirteen hundred miles
to a thirteenth floor,
i guess it was just a good old-fashioned squeeze of bad luck.
\time to become acquainted with the way
i let the potential for misery consume me
and lay heavy over each bone in my body,
how i sweat in my bed and forget
the summer breeze
still waits outside for me.
\\tally up every thing i'm taking with me
and what i'll leave behind.
i lived in my head, picked my scabs for a while,
hoping i'd think a way out of the discomfort of healing.
but i'm keeping my curiousity.
i don't hate myself for anything.
i don't live by the blade of regret,
or by fear of death.
it was all love.
i get annoyed, i scoff it out.
i see the world, i pick out some theses to spin with on my own time.
i meet people, i see myself in them, and then we push on our divine ways.
it's all an act of love.
on i go, the dance is just getting started.
unless our sweet mother death kisses my hand,
in which case i can finally rest,
and i was born exhausted either way.
\\08112026
\troubled mornings
end up sewn in neatly
to these perfect nights.
long highway, endless road.
people are suffering,
bright billboards for lawyers,
for a double bacon burger,
for a dickhead politician,
for online gambling,
for a huge bottle of sunshine flavored poison.
yes, they'll save you, for certain.
call the number listed below.
don't talk to strangers,
don't help the poor,
don't dance in a crowd.
look at me crazy-eyed while i walk around,
carrying something tender,
letting the child lead,
and the mind steer.
it's fine, i drink and smoke and eat poison all day long.
there isn't much else to do, besides
read the custom license plates and
spread the shitty news.
\\it's late now.
once, i was eighteen and i dreamed of pittsburgh and being far from him.
i dreamed that adrianne and buck would sing to me.
i believed i would carry myself to beautiful places.
i dreamed of everything i can see.
i don't know how god does it,
but it's all been delivered.
and now i dream of new york city,
and overnight trains, and a love like home.
and a home like love.
and i don't have to promise nothing, but to shine my light forward, and love the way
life takes me in its arms
and shows me that my mother is in everything i can see.
\\\i learned that it's not always beautiful to make love.
i can't be comfortable now,
thank god for the blood that
flushes everything out.
i learned that there's not always someone just looking for fun.
they'll try to make me walk out with my head down.
destroy what you want, i got what i needed.
i ash out the window and turn the music as loud as it goes.
out flies the preferences i'd imagined i'd be sleeping beside.
i don't need the keepsake, you're already baked in.
so go on, forget. i won't pretend, though.
get that deadly dance away from me.
don't try to make me look bad now, baby
you're the one who
loaded the fucking
gun.
\\08092026
\dance,
dance. I love to
dance, but some days
the darkness
takes up a ringing in my ear
and the devil gets close,
and i take his hand,
and we take the floor
just for one night
i let death come inside me.
i come back to myself and
there's a sickness there, there's a burning,
theres a screaming part of my mind telling me to run
while i've still got legs for it.
so i purge myself, i throw out the memory, i rip out the tenderness.
i mush those pretty faces up all ugly in my mind.
and i cry for the first time since february.
\\quiet.
i love the empty morning.
god stares at me through the window,
she's the only one who knows what i mean.
she's the only one who can see that i mean no harm,
i carry no malice.
her and i have it good.
she wakes me up quiet and warm in the morning,
and the only person i have to
convince to live is me.
my golden angel,
whether i'm ready or not, she rises every morning.
and i love her for that.
\someday i'll find a place to call home.
\\08072026
\bleeding into bleach-soaked rags
i can't see myself beside anyone, no.
lonesome on the mountaintop i'll romance the flowers.
lonesome, i will chew the paint i plastered onto everything.
as much as i beg for love to strike piano chords
into the center of my chest
i can't see myself anywhere
but underneath it.
and it's heavy. i strap all my lead
to the back of it
and i say,
"come here, baby. i'm ready, i need you,
crush me."
\\08052026
\i drive to the river instead of biking.
i want to kill myself for this a little bit.
i am destroyer of petrol and planet, eater of worlds.
i try to convince myself that what i've done is okay,
that my legs giving out from exhaustion on the way home,
would be worse than driving around for fifteen minutes.
i battle with myself, i quarrel with god.
\doe eyed girl sits an inch away from me.
for the first time in a long time, i am silent.
i let the world deliver itself to me.
she speaks of rape and death and infidelity.
i think of that night in bed,
how i let the world deliver itself to me.
and i let myself die, taking in the energy of a lifeless love.
how i felt like a limp vessel that he wished another soul was inside of.
i think of the night he was dead,
and the world still delivered its sweet sunlight in the morning.
\\i believe in the divine,
i try to tell myself that it's a trap,
the ego craves something to define a purposeless life.
everywhere i go, i can't help but see it, though.
everything here on earth is perfect.
i can follow it through the lines of my life,
i can trace your veins and see it in yours.
all this creation is connected into one perfect web,
and i watch it take on shapes every single day.
it never ends, it's the longest running punchline.
i can live a thousand lives in one thought.
i always try to prove that i deserve to be human, i deserve to be here on earth.
then god shows me, no matter how you dress it,
time and time again
that you are an insanely unique divine specimen,
in a sea of insanely unique divine specimens.
you proved your worth a lifetime ago.
\\\he said we are because of his preferences.
we are also because of mine.
i was born to pine, i think.
since i can remember, i've been longing for something a world away.
the same heavy wooden desk that my father worked at every day sits in his living room,
my mother decorated that big yellow house with cardinals on every wall,
she would fill the feeders for them and water the flowers in the morning
back when we would all sit in that house and pretend to know love.
there are sentiments of home hidden out there everywhere.
i can't remember the last time i wanted so badly to live.
to let the mystery of each moment unfold,
knowing there is something divine in each connection,
that whatever we do with each other,
we will receive exactly what we need.
/i am here, now,
whole.
i don't feel so small.
i don't miss being asked what the fuck i'm talking about.
i like being alone, and still having hope.
i'm happier now.
i worry all the time that i'm still insane, that my brain is psychedelic slop now,
but if it is, my friends surely don't have the heart to tell me.
if i can endure the world,
the world can endure my faith.
i'm waking up to shake off the shame.
\\07282026
\if i don't write it, i eat it.
this time, it's been sitting and spinning at the center of myself.
i lean over, i haul heavy things. one boot in front of the other,
i am old and young all at once.
in my mind, i can remember each embrace, how they landed against the planet.
fat fingers between thin fingers,
shoulders, heavy, laid on top of mine.
brother's hips hitting mine as i run for one last grasp, before the plane
sends me on a wild, tilting slingshot through heaven.
rolling through dead or dying cities, for hours on end.
the center of my eye lets me live an entire life there at the stoplight.
drive all day to meet my mothers frame,
smaller than before.
she runs inside like a child,
she refers to our memories as her "old life."
death looms over everything i do,
blessed i am to have had the time to forget her little habits,
and still come home.
home to boards with no walls, no floor, no way to live.
home to balsamic dressing and something shaped like love.
\\almost twenty-one
and i still don't know how blood and sex
could make us more connected
than knowing,
and even still,
being held as-is.
being swallowed
like a home cooked meal
rather than a cyanide pill.
i'm trying to find a way, because i am selfish,
to lace threads of myself into the narrative,
hoping someday, their eyes could see what i've built.
some part of me knows
i'll never be full to them,
even in my most flourishing bloom.
so i'm back, right where i was when i was almost seventeen.
mourning living people,
because there will always be a part of me
that lives and breathes and will never be seen.
\\life looms over everything i do
i said to jack,
"i thought there was a scarcity."
"there's actually abundance," he replied.
out of all the tragedies to live through,
the transsexual lifespan is a gorgeous one to endure.
god gave me a substantial family.
there are siblings and cousins and mothers and fathers all over the world.
god gave me love in the purest form,
he just made me look a little harder for it.
so i ache at the weight of my chest,
hanging down, casting shadows, pulling my heart around.
i ache at the shame of my siblings faces,
and the way there is an orchestra playing a fear-inducing symphony over wal-mart speakers
to convince my fellow countrymen to run from me.
but life looms over everything i do.
so i glow at the laughter of my family,
at the progress each of us has made,
each wrinkle in their faces,
that so many never got to earn.
i glow at a country full of creatives and radicals,
i'm proud to be a child of god, to be connected by the sun,
to receive the loving of the world, and to practice radical loving as ferociously as i can.
i can bear this weight, and love the world.
i can kiss the angel of death, and make love to my life,
loud, crying out, there is pleasure to be had,
and miracles to be lived.
that's what all of this is.
\\07232026
\brain or mind
psyche or soul
yours or mine. the spirit decides.
\i let the ash fall wherever it might.
the strays don't run around this place the same as the chemicals run around in my veins.
there is no place called home. busted cars bumping along,
the same rhythm of my heart against chest against shoulder and stomach. hard and soft in moments too scarce for subtlety.
my blood finally pumping for something.
smoke circles in still air.
the same as dirty water down the drain.
the same as a pupil sat in the center of a spiral.
no part of my body wants to move towards love.
no part of my mind is ready for my tenderness to be translated into foolishness.
i'm very particular about where i put things now.
that doesn't stop my psyche from raising the hairs on my body over a busted front tooth.
it doesn't stop my soul from reaching out to safety.
to a sacred place where he is not prize, nor savior, nor burden, nor protector.
free to reach up from twisted earth and bloom,
bend against the whipping winds,
die each season and start again.
//whether it only blooms for a season, or returns in abundance,
in rapid summertime growth, something was peeled back.
something about being seen unexpectedly.
my body is a vessel meant to hold all this energy,
my boots are on
i am ready,
but i don't feel that frantic need to stamp it out.
i'll let it burn, keep me warm
as i take my arms to everything that i've earned
and construct my golden city.
love from the depths of me will seep out and grow tall in each vessel that i know,
and upon catching the glow, cast sheets of warm sunlight onto everything below.
my stacks of books will lend me tiny homes in familiar lines and poems.
they will give me somewhere to go.
that's enough.
and i have some sense left to know that would be enough.
despite the ringing in my mind,
a softer part of me crying out, singing,
maybe someday, he'd come and visit, see all i built around that fire.
i'd play piano until we're all asleep
and when that huge, crazy dawn breaks how it does,
i'd go out and feed the quail, i'll cook morning food for us both.
i won't have to be alone to have a place to call home.
i'll take hands with my spirit,
and at the end of each day,
we could lay on one of those golden streets, on golden hill, in golden light, pressing together our golden lives
beneath the willow tree.
\\07102026
\weak in the legs
it'll be hard to get around
but I'm climbing over the console
and my sneaker keeps getting caught
while i force myself behind the wheel,
limb by limb.
i'm driving the hell away from here.
there's a bloody mess left behind.
i had to ax-murder the guy who let all of this slide.
he sat with silent lips, hoping that someone would give him another tender number.
some lullaby to send him into slumber
some naive belief that a slew of slippery words could excuse
day after day after day of abuse.
and of course there was nothing to see in him,
all he ever wanted to be was asleep.
so now whats left is an ax-murderer
in a garden of peace.
//i will break my own heart from now on.
\\07092026
\i don't believe in wrong choices.
i think this is exactly how every thing should go.
intention in everything,
visible or not,
there are long red strings tying you to whatever you do.
dead air teaches me everything i needed to know.
this is the crest of the spiral for me.
this is the crest of the spiral for you.
i can see where i'm going this time,
it's good to be back.
/angels.
they fight for me in dreams.
i'm spitting up sick.
i don't want to sleep beside anything.
the summer heat makes people crazy.
forty five minutes and i see through different eyes.
thank you so much.
all of you.
i cannot wait to be alone,
take this rubber block
and stamp
down
bold.
\\07072026
\i want to feel how i should feel.
it's been weeks. i've been lying naked underneath the weight of everyone except for who i used to be.
same old groggy morning.
i wake up alone. i roll out of bed.
the fridge is still empty. i sucked on the end of one of their marlboro reds.
i feel like writing again.
some coma always makes me love what i don't.
love doesn't have to wait outside.
love doesn't have to be so fucking bitter.
love doesn't grind your last guiding compass up and spit it out into one quarter pound patty with extra fucking cheese.
love doesn't matter.
not the way we did it.
//so here, i'll bang my head against the truth, i'll write it down, spit it all out.
i won't even know what's real until it falls out my mouth.
press that ink into the page.
i'm coming back to plant my feet on the texas ground.
i don't give a fuck,
if something i do stings some vein of his, drenched in the hot oils of innocence.
this is the month that i struggle out of it.
i'll set these burns out in the sun,
i gave him the chance to carve my life into me.
i'll set my heart down in the riverbank,
it'll give my life a chance to get caught in the stream.
under golden, glowing light is where i'm going to be.
there's no love here.
not the way we did it.
\\06082026
\it's june now,
something has shifted above us. i've never been able to find god in the sky.
i promised i'd stop writing to him.
in this, i loosen my grip.
in my relaxation, he is more free to move.
everything you say is something you have to choose.
understanding won't come without truth.
i'll always try to see the good in you.
\\05112026
\i desire everything from you. i need you. i abuse you in a dead, silent, sterile way.
i assume you know i need you to perform some heroic act to re-ignite all the light i've drowned inside of me. i am not fair in this way.
i listen to the big-mouthed man shout about his hundred-thousand hours of dollars that he cashed in on a degree.
outside of his world, i suck nourishment from the paintings on the walls. i worship the labor of each neat array before me.
i am in flow. i am at home.
the intensity that lives here lives in me. it lives in you too.
but i am not your story or your savior or guiding light. i will be no more than a lover.
i want to deconstruct these fragile bonds and build them new. i want you to see me, but you won't until i remove myself from hiding.
in my recreational headspace, in my true, free self, my mind wanders towards the smooth skin of your chest- depth of your voice- dark of your eyes.
it drifts to photos untaken and paintings unpainted. in front of this greened film, my mind takes me beneath showerheads in all different states.
uneasy to be naked until you.
liberated in your uncaring gaze. the acts i shared to meagerly impress you. i take a bow. cakey stage makeup smeared off.
my psyche is left with the truth. how i stood in the shower and and dug my fingers into your ribs and tried to pull the light out from inside.
close.
so close. i give myself over to you.
there is nothing i miss. only forward does the river ever flow.
liberated i will stay. in full color. i won't be more or less, i will be true.
i will try to weave the stars between me and you.
change. forever. stay. forever. age. forever.
war-sex-angels-eating-remedy-alien-change-change-i love you.
\\05082026
\this month, I decided not to be miserable anymore.
i really wish i knew what came over me, what was going on inside my mind to make me so miserable. i'm sure i could labor over reasons, but changing is more important than solving the mystery.
our friends came and slept in our house for a week. i've been at work every day since they left. i used up every penny i made to pay off my debts. the money is gone.
i used the last of my energy to clean up all the messes of my misery. the mold is gone. i used whatever time i had left to enjoy the sounds of the world i live inside of.
and the rain came down hard like stars in the evening light.
i put in damn near sixty hours a week. i do what i need to do to survive. to not eat like shit every day. to put gas in the cars. to fix the issues if i can.
i'm a good little worker, i try not to hate it, for my own sake, and still they shout from the rooftops, oppress. take away my dignity, my divine journey, my community.
i took five days off. today is the first day. last night i stood in a place that reminded me of myself. i'm getting on the road again. i'm not miserable anymore.
\\the first step to fixing it is loving it.
the first step to fixing my country is loving it. the first step to fixing my life is loving it. the first step to fixing my relationships is loving them. the first step is always loving. it's hard to move without love.
i'm tired, but i was up late with the people i love. and i was up early to work towards a life that i love.
i didn't want to create anymore, i didn't know if it would be worth it in the end.
to create is to love, though.
just do everything as an action of love.
and whatever comes after, is only proof of a life lived in the light of goodness and god.
something made me think i had to be small and angry to deserve to be loved by the world.
something made me cold, made me think the effort was not worth it, but effort has gotten me to every divine place i've ever been.
effort has brought me every person i've had the honor to spend any time with at all.
effort has shown me the tangible results of actions of self-love and respect and belief in myself.
//so i'll listen to the music i want to.
and i'll smile and dance even when nobody else does, even if i'm not a very good dancer, because, god, i'm just so happy to be off work.
i'll introduce myself to whichever people i want to, and i'll be curious and i'll take our exchanges seriously. meaningfully.
and i won't need to prove myself to anyone. if they understand, we will share the light of love with each other when the time is right.
i will look out for my people whenever i can, but i will not let them depend on only me, because i know that a life requires a network, and i am only me.
and i will create before wondering what the next steps are, because each step is fun.
life is fun, i shouldn't be miserable. this is fun, even in the face of the state.
so let's be alive, before anyone takes away that god-given right from us.
\\04212026
\jump.
i'm twenty. the past two years have felt like a lifetime. i cant believe it's only been two years.
i know what i want. all i have to do is jump.
if i jump, maybe i'll land in a pile of papers, scrawled upon by the next generation of thinkers. artists. I will respect their minds. encourage play, i know nobody else will.
maybe i can keep writing. maybe i can free one mind. just one would be enough. if i jump-
i'm certain that on the way down, most the cash will fall from my pockets, the people will shake their heads at my tumble, scoff at my lack of grace.
but i can't stand up here on this cliff waiting for the world to want to do it with me.
we do everything alone. even when we're together. there's no way around it. nobody feels like i do, even when they do. i'll be a saxophone.
\\i'm sick of my mouth. tell me about your dreams. is it the cathedral in the forest or the blades that get so bloody to rebirth your friends?
is it the woman sewing the fabric of reality or is it the old gray policewoman
that sees you've climbed to the highest windowsill and forces you and your friends into a dirty fast food restaurant to work off your sentence?
do i really need to pay for all of this? is it all transactional? no. it's just a dream. the justice is your awakening. you can say anything you want.
you can believe anything you want.
nobody ever told me any type of god was real.
my father raised me to believe that there was nothing to live for, because there's nothing to do but pay off your debt for being alive.
fear was my god for eighteen years. god is dead.
i'm the one choosing to worship the shoes i tie to my feet. the man who cannot stand being in my arms for very long. the friends i can't keep in good touch with. the socks i've worn holes into.
i'm choosing to sip the sweetness of each bit of light. i'm choosing to believe the love is there. the future is not darker, it's brighter.
everyone I love can play the guitar. so can i.
so can I.
so can I.
so can I. so can I.
so can i.///
\\04112026
\i'm worth it.
eating bad fish. doing things the wrong way. hating the word "deserve."
i won't let me let you let me be nothing. i won't let you let me let you be nothing.
i've checked out. i'll learn my own way. i won't ask any more questions. i won't.
to be loose and free and alive in an age of fear and death.
\\all of this was designed in a way, before you were born, that drains your body, mind, spirit, connection to nature, and will to live. then, avid participants in the system will turn around and make it your moral, ethical, and financial responsibility to buy a cure to their disease. to assimilate yourself completely and succeed by working for and buying products from the machine that destroyed your home, all while placing the blame on imagined groups of identities.
\\03302026
\some days I hate the world so much that I cannot get out of bed. I pray for music to play in my mind all of the time, yet I am too afraid to be seen dancing. I pray to feel the light radiating inside me all of the time, yet I feel ashamed to be smiling when all of this terrible war and devastation and moral panic is being streamlined into the consciousness of all of my comrades. I am terrified. I pray for reformation. I pray that I'm not the only one who can see it. I pray that someday, serving the system is seen as a pathetic act, rather than a heroic one.
I'm at an age in my life now that my future and career will be determined by the seeds I sow here and now. I am aware of this, sometimes too aware of it. sometimes I am so aware of it that I paralyze myself. and I feel horrible after this paralysis occurs. this guilt causes me to call myself to action. this guilt calls me to start anew.
so I start. I've been starting. I start over and over and over again. but I never go anywhere. I get far enough, and then it all just stops. I don't want to stop./
I want to go. I know exactly what I'm afraid of. I can spend entire days identifying what is "wrong" with me. what needs to change, what I need to learn, who I need to be.
the only thing left to do is start, and continue on any path that I choose, but I haven't built up that much trust in myself.
I've never finished anything.
and it feels so much more noble to avoid fueling my own joy in order to easily flow along with the world around me.
but I will begin to fuel it. I will begin for the first last time.
and I will go with what I have. I will go terrified. I will go anxious. I will go into trouble and I will find my way out of it. I will go down my truest, purest, most terrifying path, because time moves me whether I move myself or not. I will take what I have and I will make something of it. I will make it my resistance.
the writing, my words, my paintings, my love, my eyes, the goodness that I believe in, the light I wish to be.
I believe in artmaking as an alternative to death.
I believe in worshipping nature.
I believe in technological liberation.
I believe in the freeing of the spirit from the current consumerist culture.
I believe in a radical revolution for love.
thank you. elliot hazel.