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General Sherman and the Angel of Death, 2019
The Portraits of Peter Sumner Walton Bellamy______ email@example.com_______ pswb©2022 ____written permission required for reproduction.____peterbellamyphoto.com
If I had one thing left to tell you. Imagine this reality: I am in a bed that I call mine, and it is not. In looking at its make-up; bars at the head and end, the
doubling upward. No one sleeps up there or here with me. There is a door, no more than ten feet away from me, and it keeps people out. As do my sheets to the cold, my eyes to the light, my ribs to my heart and my secret lives to your love. You see, everything around us can parallel our feelings. There is a good reason for cotton, lids, bones and secrets. You caught me once; outside, undressed and your offer had no limit; I could be disarmed though robed forever. If you think it long and mad, the boundaries at self that exists materially and physically, are also emotional. If I left you at the shore, I am only trying to grow down myself. Remember how metal fought nature so we can be closer, and how asking you to consider I never had a cap. So why have you stopped? And, each day, each hour, I feel the slow pain of ‘what if’, and ‘how could I have’, penetrating the destiny of my thinking. The lights in the room have gone out and I cannot see what I am typing it takes me longer to find words with the keys blackened. You too can understand this boundary. There is nothing pretty about its love and you feel that, like I feel my secret lives between us.
I didn’t just come here to dance,if you know what I mean, do you know what I mean?Do you see what I see? Now this is a story all about how my life got flipped turned upside down. I’ve been a bad, bad girl...I’m feelin’ like a criminal.See no one told you life was gonna be this way, See no one told you life was gonna be this way, See no one told you life was gonna be this way. He’s just too gay to function.Black. We die, Black. you cry- You may die, you may die. I’m not here, this isn’t happening I’m unhappy and sick,I’m unhappy and sick, I’m unhappy and sick. You don’t own me. And I’d like to take a moment, just sit right there to tell you how I became. A creep, I’m a weirdo, I keep dancing on my own. My mind is someplace else, really. How did we come this? I’ve gotta get out of here, someone give me my shot, or I’ll rot here. downtown. Black man, get your money.You know the great thing about Aliens? Let me go! It’s that they don’t exist. But we change that. We make dreams, and movies and we give life to them and we kill them. They have ships and powers, and they remind you that the “other” is far more fascinating and rewarding than repulsive and horrifying. At least if it’s not you.I get so lonely. One is the loneliest number that you ever do, two Be or not to be that is the Question, tell me what you think Ah ah ah ah. My body is a cage...How would you approach translating this? You do not know?
16.RAJA IN MIC (CONT'D) So what can you tell?Lonely,lonely that is you. I can tell you that it is impossible to translate. I would need to be able to interact with it.You did not need that before. I did not need that because I already knew the language, but this is...I know what you're doing. Tell me what I'm doing? Ahh, look at all the lonely people. I'm just telling you what it would take to do this. Give me an example of how you might use it.Im in love again—because they’re too young, you know, to kind of get it— My love don’t cost a thing If I was young I’d flee town and I bury my dreams underground . He never wants to cry. I used to think this was the beginning of my story. Memory is a strange thing. It does not work they way we want it to. Did I say we were bound by time. Or did I call them slaves. Enslaved....But now I'm not so sure I believe in beginnings and endings. There are days that define your story beyond your life. Like the day I arrived. We all have a weakness Thanks. It's not true, but it proves my point.’ I was born this wayGotta move, gotta get out Gotta leave this place, gotta find some place Some other place, some brand new place Some place where each face that I see Won't be staring back at me Telling me what to be and how to be it Some place where I can just be me. —Or would it be better just to let things be? living here in this new world might be a fantasy—is this happiness? is this happiness? is this happiness? is this happiness?I am going to give birth to an animated voodoo doll of myself.She said, Establishing communication is going to be really difficult--A grammar in three dimensions