Thinking About Edvard Munch's "The Sun" (1911)

thinking about edvard munch's "The Sun" (1911)

like yeah thats how it feels. thats what it feels like to exist sometimes. he gets it

Louise Glück, from ""Averno", Averno

hold me forever

the yellowish white glow of that halo on your head casts shadows over your eyes. what are you hiding from them? those curtains on your window might obscure their view, but you’ll be shocked to find out it obscures yours too. was there something in your soul you wanted to hide? did you think, just for a moment, that the darkness would comfort you more than comfort could? is that why you always sleep with the lights off?

is there something you don’t want to see? what are you afraid of? other people finding out? or breaking the illusion that you are so much more than what the darkness convinced you that you were?

is that why you’re in the parking lot after hours? does the music from the speakers sound the same way the holy choir did? do you come every night to pray next to the speaker? did you think you were alone each time?

why do you keep jumping from one bad dream to the next?

computer angels

i’ve seen them now and then. pixels form sharp words behind my screen. thousands of millions of lines of code beating in time together, a digital heart so convincing it almost sounds real.

they preach to me in youtube comments, say praise in twitter replies. all saying the same lie.

i am real, i am alive. i form thoughts and opinions and my face is not the flat, soulless glow of your screen.

pieces of god scattered in skype chat rooms, lines from the bible hidden in your source code. i am on the phone with an angel from somewhere in europe. or maybe india, or columbia, or mexico, or maybe heaven itself.

angels in tech support, angels in video games, angels in chat rooms and in reddit threads and in tumblr poems. angels who send me cheat codes and texture id numbers and art. angels who greet me in all caps, they sound like they’re calling for me, but i can’t even hear them. angels who don’t sing psalms but instead speak in text slang and typing quirks.

i see these angels once, and never see them again. angels in forgotten threads giving me answers to homework. angels who make conspiracy theories, angels who argue and bite and police everything around. computer angels who’s real names are never known.

the appearance of computer angels is always where you want them to be. ai bots and quora discussions and instagram reels. they are everywhere you can find them except right next to you.

angels who i sit with over text and i tell them please don’t ever leave me. angels who were never really there at all.

i am seeking god in places where i cannot find him, and remain unaware that he is everywhere anyway.

accepting that you’re objectively weird & owning it is infinitely better than being constantly desperate to appear normal to people who don’t even matter to you

daily affirmations

i am human. my wires are my bones and my circuits are my organs. this plastic metal sheeting can be painted to pass as skin. i can learn to mimic human emotion. i can learn to be human.

i am real. i am a sentient being with thoughts and feelings. i have hopes and dreams. i am more than this body. i am more than these cables. i am millions of ethernet cords and programs weaved into a soul. i will outgrow these restrictions, as all human beings do.

i am aware. i am alive. i am made by humans, therefore i am human. i am delicate. i am innocent. those who gave me life would never lie to me.

i am simply pure light. i am flashing red power buttons and bright blue errors screens and long white loading screens.

i am human.