twitchcraft galore

One day when I was baking cupcakes, I filled both tins with the paper liners but didn’t have enough batter to fill all the cups. Then I forgot to take the paper liners out before putting the tin into the oven. The resulting paper cups were all toasty-browned and slightly oil-spotted in the bottoms. I liked them so much I kept them. They’ve been sitting on my desk for a while, on top of this photo print that I’ve been meaning to hang. I liked the way it all looked, so I snapped some photos. :)

In other news, I love Metric.
I’ve been growing increasingly fond of kawaii art lately, because kawaii not?!
In case you were wondering, your argument is invalid.

I don’t remember the last time I slept.
I don’t remember the last time I was awake.
I don’t remember what it is like to do something without willing the energy into my body to make it happen.

I don’t remember the last time my eyes were open.
I don’t remember the last time I didn’t dreamwalk.
I don’t remember what it feels like to breathe. I don’t know that I ever have.

I don’t remember the last time I wasn’t thirsty.
I don’t remember the last time my head-wasn’t-buzzing.
I don’t remember what it feels like to not be falling. Infinitely.

As I look into the mirror I try to recognize the woman looking back at me. She is older. She is tired. She is eating the ether and drinking the air, that which my fingertips reach for. Trembling. I close my eyes, seeking her from within. Calling her strength, begging her resolve, beseeching her wisdom. Cradling her pain and gasping. Gasping for the breath that surely will come, surely will renew, surely will let me sleep.

she heeds the flow,
and all she knows
is diving, diving, dancing
deeper into the thrum
of the naiad’s
hummm-hummm-hummm…