dear slushee pals,

I just couldn’t last month cause, you know, fall hustling, free falling, falling apart, falling over myself, "falling” as a somatic exercise, but not the kind you have to or even can do slowly, fall breathing and leave crunching, practicing how deep I can “dance fall” before catching myself at the last minute, falling in and out of small feelings, big feelings, falling into my bed—you know, the things.

among everything people have been saying, rather vaguely but not uninspiringly, about this pandemic necessitating a new world order (huh, let’s see about that…), being a portal (Arundhati Roy), etc. one of the most tangible things for me to “track change” (I kno I kno, don’t) is how I deal with being in my body all day and then trying, usually unsuccessfully, to sleep before having to wake up and be in my body all over again.