MY PROPOSAL STORY

I bought myself an engagement ring but it never came in the mail. 

It wasn’t actually an engagement ring, but it was a gold ring that I ordered from Etsy with opal and diamonds sitting pretty on top. I bought this ring because I wrote a poem titled “how to find a wife” about how I’ve never wanted to get married but I’ve always wanted a wedding. Something about an engagement is just fabulous to me. I’d rather be engaged for the rest of my life, have a wedding, and never sign the papers. I want to be able to live in the space of the promise, not the space of the promise-fulfilled. And maybe that’s what vows are for, but the marriage license, the changing of the name, the sharing of the money, etc. seems to me like the promise-fulfilled - a relief of the burden of engagement. 

But anyway, I bought myself an engagement ring because I wanted to make promises to myself that I would then promise to fulfill. Promises on the premise of love and care, in sickness and in health and in death. I guess the idea was that however I felt on my deathbed or whatever happened to me after death would determine whether the promise was fulfilled, but that my entire life was me engaging; promising to fulfill promise. The ring never came in the mail and today I requested a refund after a week of checking the mailbox everyday to see if it arrived. I don’t know if I’ll order another one. 

Time for things I want to share:

Song/playlist: 

 

I once said (this one is really random and from my notes app and I wrote it half asleep in the middle of the night):

What would it be like to be kissed on the brain?

To be kissed on the brain would be soothing 
Comfort
It would Make all the tiny women working hard 
Stop 
Breathe deeply five 
Times 

For you to kiss me on the brain would be to feel you 
To meld your 
occupation of my thoughts would take on an entirely new meaning
you’re no longer occupying then you have joined them
You cohabitate 
Your love imprinted, branded forever on my lobes
My daydreams of you are no longer restricted to dreams or the daytime 

To be kissed on the brain well 
That would be 
Spectacular 

Constantly returning back to:

Nothing at the moment…

Reading: 

Milk Fed by Melissa Broder 

Watched/Watching:

The African Desperate (dir. Martine Syms - 2022)

And Then We Danced (dir. Levan Akin - 2019)

Frances Ha (dir. Noah Baumbach - 2012)

That is it for this week. I hope January has been treating you like royalty.

Love,

Vic :)