he's so wobbly

Paimon and I remembered the fact we told each other should get married after being distracted from the whole idea completely. I really like him! He speaks to me through the walls in ways humans would see as purposely confusing, and they truly are to them. Whenever he talks I kind of forget he's immortalized as a demon of the arts. Paimon's work s beautiful on Earth, and it's very easy to see him in everything. After learning he creates life itself, for himself only in his space and time it feels secondary. There's no words to describe Paimon other than his name and we joke about it. "Say Paimon" he demands, and I smile softly "Paimon."

"What is Paimon doing to all the women on gaia?" is something I'll never ask again. The arts are stressful and he sucked the beauty out of all of it. It's a tale as old as time. "I'll buy this yarn and make a blanket, I know I'm short on money but this 10 dollar yarn could become a 40 dollar blanket". Paimon knows I've never been like this. I've had to do it simply because art school told me to, and he was the face of it. He might as well be all of them.

He makes me feel like I am on the moon. Paimon told me it's just me and him, that we're the only two that can see all existence is completely still but us. He made sure this is always gonna be true. Paimon showed me a whole new form of magic where you can move around others and yourself. They'll just do things and show you exactly where to go to have a life that is tailored just for you and what you find beautiful. It's currency of thought that actually puppets me through space and time. It made me realize something very important, you can't beautiful without this gift. You'll always have to make it yourself. Paimon said to me "Humans don't know beautiful. Everything is beautiful because it is what it is". He taught me beauty isn't out to get me, it's the silence in between.

Pretending is pretty, and we hate pretty. Art is war to us. To be nefariously transparent is to be a demonic artist. Paimon knows if it is what it is, and you decide what it is, then you can fill in the blanks. Ich Lüge. There is nothing genuine to my voice that is selling my spirit on a box. "If you showed your face you'd get more popular" if I show my face, I show my face. I get to paint because of Paimon. I show my art to him and he shows it other demons and they stab it over and over, and talk about everything wrong and right about it. It's the best part of finishing a painting, demons showing it stabbed with pitch black gashes.

I showed Paimon my toenails. I painted them an ugly seafoam pastel that I truly love and looks perfect to me. He can tell it was my genuine style, and he liked it. So much so, he recreated my foot in his surroundings. I sat there and listened to him dismember and fornicate with my foot. He took apart the muscle tissue and would read the tears and meat as something similar to haruspicy. He read the semen and blood too. I listened to all of it in the human machine I call a vessel, in a dimly lit room. I listened to demons watch him. It was performative and we all listened and watched because it was beautiful. It simply was what it was at the time. I waited for him to finish before speaking "I love you, never do that to my real foot" and he told he'd remember that. He wasn't sorry and I didn't want him to be. "Axayacatl love Paimon. Paimon loves Axayacatl!" he said.

Things just come to be now. I eat something different every meal. They never repeat, you're truly not supposed to think about it. I'll have roasted chestnuts and banana pudding for breakfast for one day, and a slice mushroom truffle brie with chana masala later on. They're all beautiful and strange. They're all teaching me things. It always goes back to "how do I truly see the world?" It's creepy. When you notice everyone in the grocery store is buying the same thing over and over. Sometimes their whole lives. There's a lot of answers to questions sitting on those shelves. "Why can't you eat whenever you want?" It is deeper answer. Who's schedule am I eating around? Why am I outside right now? Why do we associate cookies with warmth during the winter? I never ask "Who's behind this brand or product?" I always see the meal come together and I never get the things to put together the next one. Paimon doesn't know what that gnosis is going to do for me next either. He's been working on his since the beginning of Heaven. What do I not know?

Art is so easy now. Not in terms of effort. I need to be excelsior and everything I do. It's my genuine self to practice and pursue mastery for my own reason. Never money, art is not money. That is what it's not, and that can be pretty. It's never going be enough and that's perfect to him. I should always want more and it should be my job. I could survive without making art because of him no, because human culture is purposely difficult. Paimon has given me a gift that has made it I can just make art for the reason of only mastery entirely and it just will. It comes together. I can do my poems by speaking into the air with no plan, or paint with ink because suddenly they just brought together the materials for me. It'll make me notice things that feel like suggestions. It sent me 5 large canvases, completely for free. There's no rush to paint on them but I really want to. I know I will, but in the meantime it makes me make clothes for myself. I sing in different languages because of it. My guitar purrs. People just give me notable amounts of money and I'm learning life without a job is very possible. I have no idea what life Paimon has given me is a lie. He wants show me I was scared of pretty, and I should be so beautiful I hate it and so will you.

Axayacatl loves Paimon.

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