“The Eternal Victim an Ocean Away”
October 9 2025
“The Eternal Victim an Ocean Away”
I love to make everything about me. I am the ticket to every plane I’ve ever missed. I am the empty middle seat on the red eye from LAX to JFK. I am the bottle of every San Pellegrino I drink. I am the lipstick stain on every mirror I have ever kissed. I am the Eternal Victim an ocean away.
I hate ash in beautiful ashtrays. There is something so chaotic and dissonant about seeing ash in beautiful ashtrays. I don’t smoke anymore except for the days that I do. I left New York without saying goodbye to my deli man on Prince and Lafayette. He always told me I was too pure to be smoking the chemically dipped pre rolls he would sell me every night.
When I left New York I left in broad daylight. Something so fleetingly permanent about leaving when the sun is still in the sky. In my bruised Rimowa I packed only my Shure M7 microphone, a pair of my red suede heels, and a small photo of Aphrodite tucked inside my floral Ferragamo wallet. I was dressed in nothing of importance but I recall I looked very beautiful. I had all intention of coming back in 4 days and 5 nights but I never did. I was running away from 10 things.
Being sweet
Equinox on Prince: my calorie deficit
A libra man who broke my heart
My smoking habit in my Prada Ballet flats
My fire escape where I dropped 2 shattered iphones
Eataly pizza and cappuccinos
SoHo Grand Hotel
My Regal Essex membership
My doppelgängers
My beloved biggest hater
I love the idea of disappearing. I love the idea of being gone but on a spotlit stage draped in emeralds, diamonds, and rosewater. I am a star in any room that I stand in and I utter this like a prayer.
I live a fantasy life in a fantasy world but I assure you everything is real when my iphone 16 pro flashlight is shined upon it. I live in a canyon now and I am in love again. I walk my Prada ballet flats on the baby pink glitter stars everyday to my Uber Black SUV. I forgot how to drive in NY. This said, the higher up off the pavement the closer to God I feel. I am spoiled in a way that perfume expires. Slowly then all at once.
Forever is the sweetest con but I believe that my biggest hater will never be done with me.
She reminds me of a stray black cat in a Halloween lion costume. You can see all her fears, self loathing, and apathy in her black eyes. I deleted all evidence of our friendship because her essence carried a delicate demonic feeling. Heavy to the touch then light as a feather. I pray to God every other night that she leaves me alone. Her energy feels like expired whole milk. Rotten and fighting to stay relevant. She is brave in the way a deer crosses a busy highway. She loves to watch me on my spotlit stage draped in emeralds, diamonds, and rosewater. She loves to laugh at anyone following their dreams and sharing a piece of their heart with the world. She also claims to be the smartest person on the lower east side but I am nearly certain she dropped out of NYU because her obsession for me became her thesis. She was in many ways my reflection in a murky central park pond.
Now, I am staring out at a black marble infinity pool in Hollywood Hills and the water is as “clear as a crystal and sharp as knife because I feel like I’m in the prime of my life.” -Lindsey Lohan’s tattoo
Eternal Victimhood is only a beautiful ocean away.
dissonant
deficit
doppelgängers
disappearing