what is the universe?


laid in bed last nite with the sweetest human in the world and talked about the universe. so many of my conversations start there, i mean where else should they start? we’re all fucking molecules buzzing around looking for light and oxygen, right. like that’s just pure science. SCIENCE. haha i can’t even say the word science with a serious face. i don’t know a damn thing about science. i passed it in high school cuz i’m charming and i always knew how to hang with the smarties. but when i think about life and when it bogs me down, when rape culture, hate culture, race politics and all these other things wear out my flesh, i just think about the universe.

i asked her if she believed if the universe operated with morality. do the things that happen in nature occur with a universal sense of good vs evil? or is it all just happening because movement and creation push onward because there’s nowhere else to go? do our life plans even matter? i asked her all these questions in my rambling, crooked smile kind of way. she held my hand. we stared up at my blue ceiling. i pretended that it was the galaxy and that we were gliding on love energy through the atmosphere. that’s what talking to her is like. her hands are smaller than mine. they whisper to me without words like the way constellations trade the secrets of existence. and like always, i was off and running, answering my question to her because I can’t ever sit still and wait. ‘the universe must be amoral. we apply hope and rage to its actions for explanation, right? like am i crazy?’ still she was quiet, still she held my hand, thank god because sometimes i feel like i’d slip off the planet without an anchor.

how can anything matter? like truly really matter, if we’re all just going to fucking die. most of us poor as hell, dead in some violent or sickening kind of way, most of us drowning in bills, living in a society where those that make the most hate those of us who can barely make ends meet. i run through life with a big ass welcoming smile on my face waiting for the rest of the world to meet me half way. i wonder about the vastness of the universe and what the point of all of this. i feel like most people subconsciously have babies so that they can believe in a future and give their life some sort of tangible purpose. that’s cool with me but if everyone shut up and disappeared the earth would keep on keepin’ on. so like what is the point?

i say all these things in that order, in that type of jumbled seussical way trying to explain the disconnect. she is quiet. she rubs my arm. fingertips along forearm, along soft brown flesh. she wanders me without moving any other limbs. she stills me. we are quiet in the sea of deep blue, surrounded by walls that have seen me take my first steps. i wonder how this human is in my bed. did the universe do this for kicks? or does it believe in love?

she knows that if she stays quiet enough, i’ll tell her all of my truth. she knows that if she’s quieter still, her truth will find mine. how does she knows those things? she says that the universe isn’t amoral. its existence hinges on balance, on stabilizing the equity of creation. she says that we are the only creatures that haven’t figured out how to balance and center our lives around making sure that all things are equal. the universe is focused on making sure that nothing tips over, that for every bird there is a tree and that every speck of dirt is accounted for and ready to be the foundation of life. i paraphrase her words because i couldn’t catch them in my hands. she was holding them.

i broke the hold, clapped my hands together. what about chaos? what about volcanic eruptions? what about a bus hitting you on the way to work? what about the inexplicable and horrific occurrences? what about the bad things? that shit is amoral. that is the universe saying “see all the fucks i don’t give”? i’m relentless, focused on this point. i know she will have to agree with me. right?

i write this and her song comes on my spotify and somehow she’s here as i write, even though i know her ass is at work.

Ai Se Eu Te Pego…

she doesn’t agree with me. she takes my hands back. what about chaos? even chaos is the manifestation of the universe’s need to balance out the world and our actions. just like us, the universe isn’t just pure movement, pure physicality. it isn’t just a combination of molecules and gas and all the things your brain imagines that it is. you’re ignoring the spirit. you’re forgetting that everything has a soul. the universe has a soul. you are a part of that, ms. rivera.

who is this creature in my bed pulling apart the galaxy and showing me its veins?

in some stories, lucifer was an angel with a tortured conscious who couldn’t handle God having all the power and knowing all the answers. i hold her hand and think about the soul of the universe. can i believe in that with her? maybe lucifer just didn’t know how to talk to god, maybe they should have held hands.

we gotta believe in something. frank ocean sings it and i believe it. his voice makes me think of her skin and the way she curls up into my back late at nite. she is the reason i sleep to dream. i owe it to myself to believe in the possibility that the universe has a soul.


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