⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅🏰 this piece is part of PRINCESS, our second digital collection of works. PRINCESS responds to the problematic of modern princessdom through pieces by theorists, writers, and artists. 🏰⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅
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Commuter awoke to an excruciating pain in her left arm. In the recent hypnagogic attack, her father forced her to perform a superset of seated tricep extensions. In the dream he was an alien. Dad was coaching a class, she must’ve been thirteen, he was only her father in resemblance. When her muscles spasmed, she could not let go of the weight. She tumbled backwards onto the bench and rolled off. On the ground she cried out for her father. With terror she woke up.
The pain was gone. She hit her vape. Her eyes fluttered, vision steadied. With great purpose — with great tomboyish love — she sat up.
In this seated position, she stared at her crotch and clasped her knees. Her feet were planted on the floor. She was sixteen. At a sleepover, she smoked weed for the third time. She was told, “If you put your feet on the ground and lie on the bed it feels like you’re flying.” Now the commuter was twenty.
The pain was gone and with a secret purpose she stood up. Her kitchen was confusing. The up-cycled refurbished all American handy Mad Max Stalwart Facebook Marketplace seemed to perpetually wrestle with the Foshan, Guangdong Ikea medium density fiberboard Amazon Prime free one or two day shipping particleboard. When she would think about it for too long, she would get inexplicably sad.
She passed Alewife Brook on her way to the MBTA station. The swan idled alone. The swan had brown discoloration on its neck. She noticed the swan was marked. Her excitement was gone, supplanted by the emergence of something else. The commuter could not bring herself to feel something else today, she could not look back at the swan. The princess lets evil tangle in her hair with good. Evil that is good.
There was a shopping cart filled with a plastic bag of cabbage and a roll of paper towels. An older asian woman kept the shopping cart in her periphery. Haggard and wearing fingerless gloves, the older asian woman would check each CharlieCard machine for change. The princess paid with Apple Pay. “Your balance is $25.50, would you like a receipt? YES/NO.” She selected no. The princess met the eyes of the asian woman. With just her stare, the princess said, “I paid with my phone.” It didn’t matter. The asian woman hurried to the machine, brushing past the princess.
Commuter boarded the train and many seats were open. She got off at Harvard.
The princess thought about how her life was played back in periods. Not commas. She didn’t have any say in this. The princess is expected to have lots of grace with very little say.
The excitement began to build again. She smelled sap. Her hands would get sticky building Tipis out of sticks. Her favorite activity in nature camp was the food-chain game. She liked being low on the food chain, having to outsmart, having to run. The running meant she was headed for respiration. Respiration she felt on a deep somatic level.
The princess walked to the bus stop and waited for the 109. The man was nodding back and forth. The man stared right past her. With an ashy finger he pointed at the building behind her. “That buildin’ over there, it uhhh.” The commuter did not respond. The princess waited for him to continue eagerly. “That buildin’ over there chartreuse, that’s what yuh call it right? Chartreuse.” She did not respond. She wanted, more thananything, to agree with him emphatically.
She took the 109 to Broadway at Dexter Street. Behind her, the electrical substation, Schnitzer scrap facility, and National Grid CNG. In front of her the Encore logo glittered like bastard hygge. She walked towards warmth. She was not at the casino to gamble. She knew exactly where to go.
The princess was so sure that she was in the right place. The commuter did not know why she came here. The princess knew. The commuter felt confused and embarrassed, the princess felt so satiated. They were called as one to the blue chair. The collapsible blue canvas chair with the white strap.
The princess and the commuter sat in the blue chair. The princess and the commuter were at once the girl. Under a grey sky it was not warm. It was not too cold. It was not warm. The water was not beautiful, it was a dull brownish green. The princess and the commuter held the girl so tight. So tight, she only felt warm and saw the water as a rich, deep blue. Let the girl re-awaken. She is a princess—this is her kingdom. She is in control—she is a commuter.
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Sam Möllmann
When asked about Möllmann's recent performance at a Magic The Gathering tournament in Cambridge, Massachusetts, one player said, "I have no idea how he made it this far; one of the worst players I have ever seen play." Möllmann is Living, Learning and Loving in Boston and will be spending the next year in Madrid.
@2011rangomovie