She:
there’s beauty everywhere. or we splatter it on all we can see. we’re the ones that we capture it. take it all in and jumble it all in our bellies and make it beauty. were the only ones that can process it. we’re the ones creating it. oh how lovely it is to be under the spell of love. to hold it in my pouch and feel it in my elbows, wringing it day in day out. it’s the grease that keeps me moving. keeps as all moving. a tiny thing which isn’t actually very tiny at all. it’s the needle that weaves itself through us all, pinning us to the ground, tying us to the skies. it is a fragile, single thread, and yet we are still here anyway. i thought for the longest time love was weakness. but actually love is the strongest force. it has to be, without it, none of us would be here and everything would be apart. but that thin single thread, it is solid, it is strong. it cannot be created. it cannot be destroyed. all it does is transforms. through all its changes, it is still always love. it could never not tie us together.

I:
very reminiscent of “I know that love is the only thought and pain is the only feeling”

the question for me is, what is this love that we feel? it is not eros, it is not quite agape, it is not either of those things. so what binds us? what are we forgetting in our toils? what is the static that jars and unnerves us? i cannot say i love everyone, there is too much brutality, there is too much vying for the things that keep us alive. but i love the concept of everyone, i yearn for peace, i yearn for rest, for everyone to be at rest, to hold everyone and say, ‘you can rest now, i got you’

i’ve become hardened, i’ve become a machine, not all armor, perhaps an armadillo. and the word sounds funny and ridiculous because it ultimately it is. how ridiculous we all are, balled up in our hardened shells, careening off of one another