what comes out is what is

This is written by a three-years-ago Brieanna Durso. It’s a true thing, so I’m leaving it here.

What does God look like?

God is an angel with goldleaf eyelids. It oversees the circulation of things. 
God is driving alone at four in the morning and driving very fast toward a dark horizon with a spanish radio station blasting on a very shitty stereo 
and you are sixteen forever and you are stretching out into the dark like it birthed you.
God is the way you feel after sex, when your knees knock and you’re wet in places you normally wouldn’t be and deliciously tired. 
God is the first time you heard Joanna Newsom.
God is when you realize your parents are human and you feel the endless tired feeling. When you realize you’ll never be a child again and you cry. 
God is the bubbles that start to rise to the top of the pot of water when it begins to boil. 
God is the network of cogs you see when you close your eyes during a mushroom trip.
God looks like a newborn baby.


What are fences for?

Fences are to keep animals inside of so that humans can touch them when they want to and forget about them the rest of the time. They are sometimes for decoration which is ridiculous. Usually people get fences
when they’ve decided to give up on their dreams and maintain a really nice lawn instead. It’s variable of course, but I might place that age at around thirty-seven. (“What age are you turning this year?” ” Oh, Fence.”)

What does it mean to be a woman?

Being a woman means being able to deal with a lot of really painful stuff. So it’s a lot more interesting on the whole than being a man.
Women are born with the ability to earn a living, simply by having the assets we have, which makes us naturally equipped for survival. 
Women are born with the ability to push other humans out of their vaginas. Which is disgusting, beautiful and enormously painful apparently. 

Do you think there’s election fraud in this country (America)?

Do bears shit in the woods?

What is one thing you know is true?

If I leave the kitchen with a pot of rice boiling, under the assumption that I will be back in five minutes, I will forget that pot of rice and I will be eating a block of rice off the sides of the pot for dinner. Otherwise I can only
speculate. 

How was the earth made?

We were all waiting in some sort of huge simulation of a uterus. And we were very bored and some of us unhappy and cramped. So we willed the earth into existance so we wouldn’t have to be there anymore and we 
could come out and sweat and have kittens some of us and cook dinners for each other or decide things and have stamps. Most of us got out and were equally unhappy because the earth turned out to be also round
and full of gross fluids and the same people we had to wait around with inside the sack were there. They are the ones who usually get the fences first. When we die it’s because none of us were really appreciating the 
earth enough or God enough. We weren’t staring long enough at everything and saying “boy, isn’t this great?” to each other enough. And the fences, really, were such an eyesore. So we’re all going back into the big 
sack now. We wanted to cook each other dinners, but we didn’t really do that enough so now we munch on placenta until we maybe get a second crack at it. Maybe. 

If you could run this country (America) what would you change first?

I’d move into an apartment and tell the country I didn’t really feel like being President because that’s sort of a stupid thing to have anyway and why don’t they all just fend for themselves. I might have a nice affair while I
wait for things to get really bad. After the first week is when things will deteriorate to an unrecognizable degree I’d think. Then I’ll go on the television and tell everyone that if they want me to be President again and make
a come back and fix things, they will put their children on buses (which I will provide) and we will bus all the children to the whitehouse to chat in groups about what sorts of reforms to make. That way everyone would 
be sensibly and agreably represented and we could also play some games after the chat and no one would drudge up any sex scandals. Any time after that that something needed to be addressed, all the children 
would again be bus-ed to the whitehouse to discuss it and talk it out and figure everything out. Other nations would start to feel super weird about attacking us because our nation would be run by children and I doubt
the kids would be very hot for the plan of going to war with any other nations so that’s how we’d become un-involved in any wars. All the American citizens would see how easily the kids work things out amongst
themselves and start to feel pretty silly about the way they’re living with all their fences and big words and sex once a week when they could be having it every night. 

Where do we go when we die?

Well back into the uterus if we weren’t appreciative enough. Some of us maybe were very brave and good. Some of us maybe had a lot of people crying at our funerals because it just wasn’t wasn’t fair. Like Ginny. Like
Jan. Those people go to be with the goldleaf eyelid God. They get to help oversee the lives of beautiful objects. Everytime I find a new piece of fabric or a good old photgraph that needs to come and live with me it’s a 
gift from Ginny and Jan. 

What’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?

My mother laughing very hard. She has perfect dimples. And she screeches and cries and turns purple. She puts a lot of herself into the laugh and the energy dissipates into the room indefinitely. Lucky bystanders
absorb her joy just by being there. It’s more spiritual than a contagious laugh, because it’s an actual osmosis of her spirit. It’s more complicated than a contagious laugh because it at times makes you very nervous 
and embarrassed. When my mother laughs hard, it is not convenient. It does not have a nice sound. But it is hard and all of her and bare and beautiful. I have heard my mother laugh very hard probably very many times.
Better than that, I have caused my mother to laugh very hard more times than it’s possible to keep track of. And that is gorgeous, I think. 

What would you like to be asked?

I would like someone to ask me if I am ready to be loved.