there are people you meet who you know are on solid ground. you can see it in their posture, in the calm of their shoulders, the ease of their expression. they’re not worried about tomorrow, or afraid of leaving; they have somewhere to go, something to lean on.

some of us are born on mountains, some of us in the ocean, some of us from volcanoes, like me. volcano people have a home, but we can’t always run back to it. unless we’re particularly educated on the geological cycles and causes of volcanic eruptions, we never know when it’s a good time to be home, and going back is always a risk.

you can see that too, in our postures, the in-between-ness. even though sometimes we look like mountains from afar, if you look closely, you’ll see it. our shoulders are not so comfortable, our expressions more calculated. we either leave too soon–or we never leave, we try, to make it work, to fix it, to love harder, to hold on. when it works we look for chaos, it’s not supposed to just be nice, all the time, something has to be bubbling, something beneath the surface, something, anything..

eruption of mount vesuvius, gouache painting by mauton

i’m someone who never leaves. parts of me are scattered all over the world with people who bare me like invisible scars on their skin. i never leave and that always makes endings messy. i never leave without a fight. if they want to leave, i won’t let them, not without a lick of lava.

what do we do, volcano people? how do we find, not only stability, but comfort in stability? how do we absolve ourselves of the need for heat when, at this point, the chaos revives us, now that we’ve repeatedly survived our surroundings’ spontaneous combustion? now that we’ve internalized that power, that urge, to combust, there’s no going back. it’s like getting your period, without the potential to create life. but maybe with the potential to create.

maybe that’s what we can do, volcano people. use the chaos, and our immunity to it, to create.

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