The Damned Mirrors
The air comes in through the tube. Enough at first, then less and less. It’s barely noticeable, this trickle, this slow drag...until I find myself gasping.
I don’t know what to make of the speed at which life is now moving. I’ve sensed its acceleration for years—I’ve written about it multiple times, to the point of obsession—but I still believed it would plateau, eventually. It won’t. The kids are back in school today and this summer feels like a missed opportunity. Like we began something, forgot to follow through and it ended, crashing. Months became days, became hours.
I fucking hate time.
I loathe its screeching whisper arrowheads, plunged into our helpless body. This deconstruction, systematic and granular. One morning I woke up with fingers numb. One morning pain became my new reality. It made its nest in my bones and decided to stay. I want to rage against loss and all manners of metamorphosis. Against fatigue that eats away at our strengths until we give in.
Ok...sorry about the darkness. There’s light in here too:
This is the summer Anaïs became a cook.
It’s the summer Jacob’s voice dropped an octave.
The summer Héloïse devoured books like her older siblings.
Hell, I started a band...
voodoo rites and magic nites
a quickening of electrons
this Horse Machine.
I’ll be in Stockholm soon (from September 18 through 21). A much too quick and busy jump across the ocean but I’m very excited. First time in Scandinavia—hoping to make the most of it. I’ve also got quite the backlog to go through so...stay tuned.
It’s good to be back.
No really, it is ;)
P.S To anyone in Harvey’s path: be safe. Our thoughts are with you.