There was a fable of a blinking star gone green in the distance, across shore and simple sea; self indulgence alights our enemies. Thoughts process to grow while ego choking hard our castle with its single diamond room. Because just thoughts, simple chaos, in the far reaches of what's happened to our bodies, letting those minutes in time eat up our minds-insides : color coding
trauma equals drama, offers a good impetus to curtain call.
Sing yourself home; no one can rise up from your ashes for you. None, but you. Let the thorns binding up your heart's pelt trunk down, twindle, swarming, free. Your arms, they're bleeding happy trails to mark the way behind you. You'll find yourself always watched over.
Heart born again a lump of dust mites in clay, without sculpture or circumstance. Etchings over ridiculous arithmetic parameters of breath and mistakes.
Indeterminism is a clean contract.
- Maryana Lucia Vestic
- Brooklyn, New York, United States
- Maryana Lucia Vestic has spent her life traveling between the worlds of writing, mythology, history and filmmaking. After graduating from NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts and getting her Master of Philosophy in Irish Theatre Studies from Trinity College Dublin, she spent nearly 20 years working in film, television, publishing, the arts and entertainment. All along the way, she has had pieces published online and in print, most recently at The Inquisitive Eater, Horror Film Central, and Vice (Tonic). She is currently completing her MFA in Creative Writing (Nonfiction) at The New School and writes personal essays, memoir, and criticism often wrapped up in her Croatian-American experience, food, film, place, history, and things of a cosmic nature that only exist in her head.
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