theatrical

life will always be a tragedy will

always be a comedy. may it be the most dramatic 

breathless thing you've ever known 

and go down fighting

#katyamills

beset by beauty

the blue periods I have had in life were not always the small tragedies, colored by loss; small triumphs were equally blue. I miss the bursts of confidence and hope, the clearings. the quality of light there. where the dream and reality converge. the most unlikely places, beset by beauty. you change in some small way. only your brothers and sisters in the struggle understand how you got there. the shared memory is all can be recollected. gather it in your arms. hold it to your heart. tell the story if you can.

chalk it off as existential slowburn -iv

i don't wanna do it. i don't wanna tell you what i think will happen here because i always had hope, always in life i had hope. i wouldn't want to describe a terrible thing to you. i wouldn't want you to misunderstand. it kills me how we fail to come across sometimes. love doesn't need convincing. i doubt you believe in us anymore, actually. can i say that? whereas my sense is you have tried hard and i have tried hard it's just our ways of living here have shifted drastically from how we were raised and it's an ever moving picture whereby we are ever trying to adjust. so, you see, i can and forever love you. i am that way for life, i know i am, and you say you are, too, but i don't know. i don't know why this fucking thing happened and please don't ever tell me again that i'm some broken record, okay, i don't even carry a philosophy to support that kind of talk - about waste and wastelands. i am humbler than when i met you. you gave me this. i am more quiet, it's true, but not necessarily withholding or despising you for talking to me, as you presume. alot of it is just me internally looking at my situation and wondering how i could ever have imagined my life being any less than tragic, in the end... i love you. we've been through a lot and i won't forget you, all i can do now is just live through it with you until maybe i need to live through it without you? i don't know. it's different looking one day to the next. the light. it's just blinding. i gotta close my eyes sometimes.   -fin (from an old letter never was sent)

idea factories and surge protectors

Incredible people are dying, some are being born, and I have to move my car across the street so I don't get a parking ticket. What else is new. I have placed fans strategically around my living room because the circulation seems to give my Idea Factory a run. I mean my head. Like I am walking while sitting still, the air pushing around. One of my cats is sleeping on the surge protector, perhaps toward the same purpose, though he may get more than he bargained for.

Review: Running with Scissors

Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Sometimes the saddest things make for great laughs. Augusten's memoir is like that. He could have painted his childhood in brooding, sentimental brushstrokes. The abandonment. Mental illness. The manipulation. But he edited out his ego and left us with absurdity. The peculiar absurdity which comes with tragic circumstance like fast food come with fries. Neither is really good for your health. I got sick with him. And broke out in laughs.

View all my reviews

i lost a kiss

all my memory
i rewind
2 find
a kiss

i cannot
find

scattered about
the cutting room
floor

transparencies
of what came
before

i lost a kiss and
an embrace

my shadow
all i got
and face

oh my god
please help me
find the kiss

lost
in this data
stream

or else
leave me anchored
in catacomb
bay

sufferin'
the pale exposé

another
day

kissed
away

Atlantis. Times Three.

Poetry from K IS SILENT
written and performed by Katya Mills

Atlantis, times three


i am trying to find myself

between commercials

apparently

i am located

somewhere deeper

than that

Atlantis

times three

i remember almost dying

the weight

was too great

i got

stepped on

like flagstones

I saw you there

we could touch

almost

through our

imperial pints

of tears

drowning

Atlantis

times three

i got stripped

like a stripper

but without

so much

a choice

off the walls

in the paint

in the darkness

the memory

faint

gracefully

i laced up

to give them

something

2 remember

gracefully

i tried then

2 forget

sometimes

i grabbed the knives

in the kitchen

and turned

toward them

screaming

its real painful

to look

i could drown

in it

Atlantis

times three

i found me

by looking

baptized

by watercolor

bled down

in the city

bled out

to the valley

sweet canvas

of colors

shelters me now

the painted walls

i like to

leave them

this way

i am different

i am young

my spirit

touched by

the sound

of the colors

dripping down

Atlantis

times three

is where

i am found

to the drowned

100 years of solitude
lapping up the shore
have you met your neighbors?
next door

239 missing
from Malaysia
facing east
on sunday

rising toward
the light
at the very
least

302 Korean kids
a billion hearts
turn blue

if only your captain
could have seen you
through


to the drowned....image by K, 2014

420 crowds light upto escape the human race
against the cards we're dealt
one-eyed Jack
a Queen
an ace

five hundred times
or more
I tell myself each day
time is of the essence

live!
write!
play!

l00 years of solitude
lapping up the shore
so sorry for the lives
the lost

i feel it in
my coeur

Rolling Allostasis -vii)

Hers was not an uncalculated risk
She did not believe in magic

All the magicians
she had acquainted
no matter how impressive
she found to be tragic

A foolish pursuit
oriented to ego

When she came to power
she swore magic
would be outlawed
Illegal

 Her wisdom came mainly from
 old Eastern teaching

History would judge her reign
somewhere between empirical
 and reaching

History has no heart to give
no heart to take
Combs over our lives
like a steel prong rake

Emotional coloring
extracted by intention
So to cushion
 the ache of misfortune