Author: joe peterson
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Arching Up In A Swell
Ojosfinos · Enya – Only Time (Ojosfinos Cumbiiita remix) We all know our fine lines. We can’t wash them away, and they only deepen with age. Some are more fluid than others, and we’re always most fluid with ourselves, but all lines have a watershed moment, a stack that leads to an infamous last straw, Read more
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Life Is Meant To Be Lived
“You’ll make more.” He’s right. Like kisses, creativity, and every little moment, I am going to get more, make more, love more, take more, feel more, share more, cry more, and beam more. My mantra, “You should be here with me, living our life,” echoes out quite often, but I love you despite it. Thank Read more
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Stooping To The Level
When I put on the orange hat to leave my cabin in the woods, I submit to the hunter. It is his forest right now, and it’d be in vain to protest. So I put on that hat and I stay alive. When I’m driving and I hit an opossum at full speed mangling its Read more
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I’m Ashamed To Be Your Muse
It’s a space within consumption and production. Something I crave constantly yet can’t achieve. It’s fear, expectations, lust, and time that ruin my life time and time again. It’s agonizing and embarrassing to sit so firmly in the cuck chair yet I find myself on top of that pole in Coney Island over and over Read more
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Measuring My Life in Lakes
I changed my mind very quickly, but I still find lovely aspirations in the idea. I love lakes. I love ethical leisure. I think it’s good to have goals even if after you reach them the goal posts inevitably move. I think it’s good to reach for the unreachable. I don’t think it’s good to Read more
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I Wish I Didn’t Want To Leave
We are such products of the people who raise us and the places they raise us in. I’m so thankful to have been bred a chameleon. Part of me wants to stay, but more of me needs to go. Love letters are not written to places but to people. I don’t need place, but I Read more
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Does Any1 Hear Me?
Bouncing from place to place making sure everybody loves him and nobody knows him. I don’t know why I wrote that in third person. The data is hard to follow, hard to map, and supplied by myself, so it’s biased, flawed, inaccurate, and quite variable. I’m worried I’ll fail my stats class, but I’m more Read more
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Burn Me When I
As they tied me up with the rope I once so longed for, I took a long, deep, final breath in. You’d think becoming a villain might feel good, but it’s actually quite painful. And then you burn for your crimes. Maybe that’ll feel good. I’ve never quit a job I loved before, but I Read more
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Accessibility is Killing Me
I can’t afford therapy, but the vape is $20 and sometimes it actually does put me back together tearing apart the delicate tissues of my lungs in the process. Sex is easy. Love is hard. Don’t ever equate the two no matter how tied they seem. Sex is not love. Love does not require sex. Read more
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Neglecting My Responsibilities to Make Art
I couldn’t care less about the economy. Economic growth won’t bring him back to me. It’s ironic to think that way, because economic growth is precisely what brings people to me. I am a white man with an office in Lower Manhattan. Hundreds to thousands of bombs each year let me live without fear. The Read more