Manifesto

Life is a wild beast, and I am the equal of any wild thing. In these turbulent times I am reborn as myself somehow. Said fuck chemo, buzzed my hair and started lifting. Why the fuck not. Life is finally an adventure again. Righteous deaths loom all around. Who could ask for mkre than to die for a just cause? There is no greater honor. And I have a feeling it matters more than we will ever know.

No one will ever write the story of some old white junkie broad who grew up in hell and discovered the alchemy of turning pain into love. I look back and it's so clear: I am the magic. The world is in me. I am what I was running towards all this time.

God damn it, man. Life is fucking beautiful. I've always liked it rough, because more truth leaks out in rough places and I hunger to understand most of all. To see. And then I feel compelled to speak the greatest treasures I find along the way. I don't imagine it's important to anyone but me. That's okay. That it matters to me, finally, is enough.