let me write something nice for you. maybe you’ve been spending your evenings remembering that last touch. maybe you’ve been watching too many sad movies. maybe facebook will censor this to prove a point. maybe Gaza will never stopped being bombed. but you are here, whole and beautiful and olive skinned, girl boy, or someone in between. let me remind you that god has no gender and neither does the spirit, which is a reflection of god. let me remind you that your eyes have withheld centuries of evolution at its most prestigious point. let me remind you that we are constantly dissatisfied with mediocrity, and that this is good, because we strive to fit our divine composition. if i could remind you that the Aramaic word for god is all pronounced in breath, because god lives in your breath. let me remind you that freckled and speckled and stripped is the epitome of perfection, because scars equate experience, and experience betters the self. let me remind you that the summer is good and the sound of sprinklers undoubtedly recalls those underage nights in parks with drugs and your best friends trying to make sense of the world to the memory. you can smell it, dear. you can smell it. let me remind you that we have a word for the scent of rained on soil–petrichor. let me remind you of the mountains, that take your breath away topped, with a cap of snow. let me remind you that someday this will be over. you will die, and the exhaustion will secede. and this is good, because you’ve held your breath for too long, it seems. And when no one is left to remember you, you will live, in the genetic composition of the victims that remain. In collective memory, where instinct is what you and your ancestors remember. Let me remind you that God is real, and you see him in the eyes of the artist, chock full of pain and pleasure. Let me remind you to be a hedonist, and a narcissist, because what is more beautiful than loving yourself.