*****************

You slip out of your mother’s lips into the cold air, wet and trembling, wailing, gasping, oblivious to the holy forces that would plan to punish you for these gay little breaths. The world turns its shoulder day after day, and day after day you breathe. One day you grow teeth. You grow taste. You move your mouth to decide what is sweet, stale, or rotten for yourself, and to form words which carry your reality into space. Years of this.

Now look at you, your jewelry. Your language nonverbal. Self-actualization in motion, sweaty and certain, hips hypnotizing, thermodynamic thong. You go to the club to move, to articulate yourself — that is, to become ever more clearly. You make use of the tool bass which compels articulation, which your body obeys organically, because it is a body. You exist, you become. You strengthen and trade this language purposefully, trusting others with your expressions and perceptions, holding theirs. You know that you are but one cell, and together your breaths are current. You found this body with yours. You know what love is. You know how to move.

I turn away from the mirror, and I am so proud of myself.

FRIDAY
basement bacchanalia with

othrwrld [pdx]
tea & him [tabitha and david]
10–2 at Kremwerk
Friday the 12th
$15 pre • $20 door

★ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴡᴇᴀʀ ᴀ ᴍᴀsᴋ ★
air purifiers and masks provided + highly encouraged

Poster by Sethy

“Cum to fruition!”

Love always,
Joosed
⊛⊛

For Kremwerk merch visit: kremwerk.com/kremwerk-merch