MADE FOR YOU AND ME 3: hive Being (Stanzas 2018--part 9)
scent of the day: Al Majmua, by Areej le Dore
One of my favorite Areej from the jump. Has that Forbidden Flower tartness over sandalwood cream: bitter orange and bergamot here as opposed to grapefruit and lime, though. The citrus seems less sharp, like it is coated in powder—almost like a retro heliotrope powder that, since none is stated, could just be the kadam flower, which comes off as very pollen-like.
The moss here in Al Majmua seems much more emphasized, giving it the feel of Chypre Siam—another floral chypre with a sandalwood base. Indeed, in both there is the is gourmand element. In Siam that is rooted in Thai basil. Here in Al Majmua it is rooted in both (1) kadam flower, which gives a pollen texture and sweetness (sort of like a blend of coconut gardenia and spiced-gum yellow champacka) and (2) kewra (pandanus flower), which not only gives a wildflower honey impression very similar to Civet de Nuit (only this honey is more herbal here) but also gives a strong impression of rice grains (basmati, jamsine) cooked—perhaps even slights overcooked to a goo.
The honey here has a pissy vibe to it too, just like Civet de Nuit. Civet is the culprit in the case of Civet de Nuit. But here in Al Majmua, and in alignment with its more vegetative presence, the pissiness comes from blackcurrant, which comes off a lot like tonkin musk here: nectarous, catty, tangy, tomato leafy—and that explains why Murasakino, which combines civet and blackcurrant (in addition to white florals), really gives me feline urine tang. Overall in feel, and even somewhat in smell, Al Majmua might be seen as a green spin on Civet de Nuit—retro powder and honey vibes, only Al Majmua is more watery and clean, airy and masculine. Al Majmua, especially with its stone-cellar rhus khus and its mulch-rot patchouli, is also more earthy.
Upon reflection after a few hours, Al Majmua only gets better. It vies for the top place in the 7th collection. While I love Malik al-Motia and it crazy longevity and animalic undertone, it is too soft and bested in my book by Oud Sinharaja. Beauty and the Beast is the main challenger to Al Majmua in the 7th collection. Keewpign in mind I have note smelled Gul Hina or Mysore Inscenza (but I can still gues sin brackets), here would be my ranking—from worst to best—for whatever it might be worth: Le Mitti (this honestly could have been done better if I might be so bold to say, but I only wore once), [Gul Hina], [Mysore Inscenza], Malik al-Motia, Ambre de Cocoa, Beauty and the Beast, Al Majmua.
MADE FOR YOU AND ME 3: hive Being (Stanzas 2018—part 9)
pussy-finger nose circles on the streetball courts of boyhood
massage abuse therapy
take it easy, but still take it
boredom notices the latent
mastery requires the wild
parasocial relationships with your own fantasies
that Susan-Sontag Anthony-Bourdain bauplan
kids stomped by the mushroom fairies
over-identifying with the corpse
government at least should be guaranteed employers of last resort
even the rich are pollution vacuums like us
rich neighborhood dumpster diving
cat scratching at the irresistible clap if your of your balls against its owner grundle
traveling in hope was better then the arrival
splashing the back of your neck with hard liquor, a suggestion of the special-ed teacher back in High School, so people might just think you are a drunk instead of a retard
he likes his girls like he likes his sweaters: extra small with a lot of stretch and a little bit of kink in the neck
the constant therapy of writing the craziest shit makes the writer such a nice person in real life
making companions on the adventure, the adventure itself makes for its own adventure
up there with “whites hold all the power” sits another gaslight: the same young lady who insists “men only want one thing” insists, in the next breath, that the coworker— a male—she has drinks with is her “bestie” and that “You’re being a paranoid loser”
do you like blur-speed pummeling in itself, the sensation, or do you like it because it allows you—unable to be present in your body in a PornHub globe of cyber swiping— to disassociate during an intimacy you have not yet achieved the maturity to handle?
needing white supremacy to sustain your victim worldview so bad that you—well, the worm-tongue whites in your ear with a campus bullhorn—will fund it even when it is dead
first you were embarrassed by the flaw, but after surgery you are embarrassed to walk around bearing the evidence that you were embarrassed enough to have surgery
the (sad) fact is that to be the greatest most often demands taking your craft as more important than anything else—give up the dream and live
saying it with spoken-word suaveness does not mean it is deep
stipends for prostitutes to take care of the homeless population
shutting down the factories to have a blue sky by the time the important leader arrives
if we all chip in, armed neo-panthers can make living wages watching over police procedure in our districts
the queasy optics of beach tourists liming in countries emaciated even before yet another natural disaster from God
a being who feels the very same regret for your mistakes, the exact same anticipation of your future pleasures, as it feels for its own—is it numerically the same as you?
no one around you to point out how you get off on pain
those holy places not surrounding just that one place: Earth
the greatest almost always take their craft as their first allegiance
nightmares that you are using again
a life of “fuck you” to life
weave-strand soup
coopted by your revered appointment
some say “We’re two at birth and one at death,” but in both we are enwombed by what (for them at least) is beyond us
Caribbean nations decimated by hurricanes have to hear perennial talk from the polluters about how climate change is not even real
the Kool-Aid sheep are the ones who think: “I must trust in God/Him/X no matter what, no matter how its ways bewilder, or seem to preclude its existence”
if you and your people are terrorized by the people whose babies you deliver, it at least crosses your mind how humane it would be to kill those babies before they get a chance to act on their terror
sexbots ever more lifelike, Victorian accusations ever more devastating— the right choice for men is evermore clear
a day where even educated people think that no context in which a harm is spoken can ever excuse the speaker
preserving the impression of being made for one another was important enough to have them stuff his appendage, folded in half bloodless, into her with intertwined fingers
a rock deal on the curb real quick, mom proud you taking down the trash
the insulated chess prodigy, stuttered by the glare of public acclaim, makes his moves less from instinct than from interrogation—that absence of childhood social friction, streetball to pussy-finger nose circles, now a monster presence who loves a good closet
