Neutron Star

On Earth, just a teaspoon of neutron star
would weigh six billion tons. Six billion tons
equals the collective weight of every animal
on earth. Including the insects. Times three.

Six billion tons sounds impossible
until I consider how it is to swallow grief—
just a teaspoon and one might as well have consumed
a neutron star. How dense it is,
how it carries inside it the memory of collapse.
How difficult it is to move then.
How impossible to believe that anything
could lift that weight.

There are many reasons to treat each other
with great tenderness. One is
the sheer miracle that we are here together
on a planet surrounded by dying stars.
One is that we cannot see what
anyone else has swallowed.

—Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, Watching My Friend Pretend Her Heart Isn’t Breaking

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Where There Is No Death

What does the sentence “If you eat this fruit you will die” mean for Eve who is in a place where there is no death?

—Hélène Cixous, Readings: The Poetics of Blanchot, Joyce, Kakfa, Kleist, Lispector, and Tsvetayeva

Happy Halloween, I guess.

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Spirited Away

Once you’ve met someone you never really forget them. It just takes a while for your memories to return.

—Zeniba, Spirited Away (千と千尋の神隠し)

Happy Halloween!

I can’t help but keep the awful tragedy in Seoul this weekend at front of mind… My heart breaks every time I think of the young people lost while they were out having fun and celebrating, full of life. So, so sad.
May they rest in peace. I hope this tragedy begets change to protect others in the future.
I hope you and your loved ones all had a safe Halloweekend.

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Three to The Third

Either a snail’s moist web of moonlight, or someone’s hot breath at four a.m. when the night has been too much, has eaten you whole.
This is my life.
It has been sifted through the bones of my body, through blood. It is all that I have.

—Joy Harjo

Happy birthday to me, from me.

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Spice and Scent

Like this alabaster box whose art
Is frail as a cassia-flower, is my heart,
Carven with delicate dreams and wrought
With many a subtle and exquisite thought.

Therein I treasure the spice and scent
Of rich and passionate memories blent
Like odours of cinnamon, sandal, and clove,
Of song and sorrow and life and love.

—Sarojini Naidu

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Not A Sprint

Like wine through clay,
joy in his blood bursting his heart—the bliss!

Robert Browning, Pheidippides

It is my 26th birthday, today.
More pressing is that my exam, culmination of the last 3 months of my life, is next Friday.
I am therefore resolutely trying to ignore the fact that my birthday has arrived until then.

It has been a marathon, sans doute.

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