I heat up my new copper kettle and grind up the beans1 and I am grateful that I was able to transform such a struggle of a time—my time in Milwaukee—into nourishing, warm beauty I could carry forward into now and share. Besides, how much longer do we have for indiscriminate coffee beans? I shudder to think—coffee… extinct?! My twin moons governing my heart and my head expand, shuddering all the more: what will become of conversation without coffee? If in fact life is a hologram, I seek a GameShark coffee cache. As a longtime Animal Crossing neighbor, I’d be happy to grow and tend my own coffee plants.

I mean, I suppose there’s tea… but…

Milwaukee was a lesson in, among other things, forcing myself into a path without my own energetic consent; what it looks like to live contrary to my body. I think of that job I quit that I took in the first place from the deep pockets of my own insecurity. Take the money and say thank you, no matter what, that dad in my head assured me.

I quit doing something I used to do so often and easily, if unconvincingly: I lied. Pretended I got a phone call that a terrible health matter had befallen my father. It felt good to act, to see whether I could be convincing. After all, I am at home. So why not here? It felt better to act out the feeling of throwing over work to rush home to care for my father. Having that kind of relationship.

I rushed out of the shoppe, phone to my ear with only a phantom in the receiver, never to return. To think after that display they offered me my job back. I’m glad for their sake I kept away, and yes, mine. I deeply apologize for my behavior, Milwaukee, and my immaturity: I just couldn’t keep paying to work, underpaid, and I had to cut myself off from drinking on the job. As fun as you all made it look. You looked like warm fellowship and true camaraderie built sturdy and slurry over the years, unhinging your jaws and laughing so easily. I hope you all are well. I hope I amused you.

Wow, that was already a decade ago. The year I quit smoking.

Then I think about the wildfires, of course. God bless all souls there, I pray you are all safe. Many folks out there can afford their own private firefighters, plus the ones furnished by the state—many of whom are incarcerated. These folks live so close to the fire, and we are living in those eat-the-rich times… eeek smells like barbecue. I was disturbed to see the Getty grounds on fire.

Then I think about Palestine. All the noxious smoke of the endless bombs and the noxious smoke of complicit, cowardly silence tag-teaming the noxious smoke of ‘self-defense’ and all the other lies I refuse to swallow. A big giant smoke ring of vorpal evil.

• “Israel Blocks UN Probe Into Hamas Sexual Crimes From October 7 to Avoid Inquiry Into Abuse of Palestinians” | Haaretz

I am glad I feel safe enough in my own skin now to where I don’t believe I have to lie anymore. I am grateful I learned that lying—hoping my performance will please others better than I could—is a bunch of a hogwash. And as we all know, I am a natural, fine villain; quite at home here.

Dal fiume al mare, la Palestina sarà libera.

Coffee’s ready.

The Language of Flowers

• Orange roses: fascination, admiration, enthusiasm

• Yellow tulips: Sunshine in your smile2

Angel Beat:

… might be my drag name?

Thank you for everything, you gorgeous Scouser, I love you.

Rest well, Your Majesty.

Love,
Kate