"7 minutes in heaven" aka "snow and dirty rain by Richard Siken read by Wesley Flash" aka "reading aloud a 7 minute poem & legit crying through the 2nd half of the work"
heres the text for reference:
how to love // how to mourn tribute
thank you, whitney
since the moment of my initial conception for the project, my quest has not only been to learn how to love, but also to find love in the process. (clearly.) i spent a lot of time and energy this winter asking and making room for love. to be clear - it had been a very. long. time. since i felt at all open to love. on some level, i think this project was my way of seeing that space i had made come to fruition and of trying my hardest to stay open. it is true that at the onset i’d been hoping for romantic love — the kind of love most of you so beautifully put to words here for me. lezbereal, yall - i wanted a date and maybe a kiss or like 1000, you know? and that hasnt happened. i hit a wall halfway through this project where i felt so sad thinking i would never find love or intimacy again, but i soon realized that didnt really matter because i called my bestie charles in a fit and he gave me this little piece of advice. he said: wesley you might not ever find love again and you do need to sit with that and be okay with it. you have loved and thats good enough. it might not be the kind of love you expected, but it never is and you have love in so many other ways, dont you see? i love you. when i think about being alone, i remember you and our twin beds and twin cats and i feel okay.
so what have i learned?
i asked for love and i have found it all around me. DUH. love is budding friendships and longterm lyfe dreams. it is supportive relationships where people feel safe enough to honestly challenge behaviors. love is in death and change. love is EVERY SONG EVER. love is magic and my ace of cups is running over. love is a gift. i’d be a fool to not recognize what wealth i have found which i just needed to remember was always already there.
what are your favorite love songs?
"like the edge of a cliff. like freedom. like being under a rock. like so, so scary and maybe it is because i feel so far from home and like i don’t know where i’m going next and already so on edge in my body, so very little to hold on to, and this love this big pushes on me, and i find myself crying and not knowing why, and then feeling so whack that i’m crying about being in such love. what?”