And Yes I Said Yes I Will Yes.

I half wish to find a comfortable cave and live there for the whole of my existence but as that is an unlikely occurrence- I suppose I should join the rest of the human race and begin a blog. That doesn't mean I look down on any of you less. I am simply proving I can do it better. The Name is Olivia. I live the whole world wide. I like conspiracies, beautiful language, and things that give me leverage. Memento Mori: I'm ready for what's next.

(All writing published here is owned by me unless cited otherwise.)


In Omnia Paratus   I'm Bland Looking. Like Rice.


“ On the phone my mother says she has been sorting
her late darling’s cloths—and it BREAKS
my HEART, and then there are soft sounds,
as if she’s been lowered down, into
a river of music. I’m not unhappy,
she says, this is better for me than church,
her voice through her tears like the low singing
of a watered plant long not watered,
she lets me hear what she feels. I could be in a
cradle by the western shore of a sea, she could
be a young or ancient mother.
Now I hear the melody
of the one bound to the mast. It had little
to do with me. The Music, by Sharon Olds

Notes

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