Drone Frequency Mantra

March 11, 2026

I think they put Molly in my ice cherry chai with a shot of espresso. I am moving through the day in a husk of myself, much lighter. My insides were extracted in some comedic way, leaving my belly empty with room for humour. Perhaps my intensities were yanked from my throat as if a magician were pulling coloured scarfs from a gaping hole. Then, my intensities can be twisted and tied into balloon animals, floating above me, adding to my lightness.

Today I chatted with three strangers, which is three more than my usual routine, as if they were attracted to the vacancy in my lower abdomen.

I think of Flora's tattoo down her back: her life path, written by a monk, then etched into her skin. She wears her fate like a spine.

At times I imagine my God as more of an engineer than a guru. He has fastened a silver platter on top of a drone, which is always hovering by. The beeping and buzzing bible is constantly serving me. For example, yesterday I was in search of ballet shoes, today they're three yoga mats away, spotted on a girl in my yoga class. She wore them pink, thin-soled, and delicate, her version of grace in a room designed for it to be stripped away. It is an extraordinary sight considering there is no place for ballet flats in a bare-footed practice. They may as well have been sitting on top of the platter, on top of the drone.

It has been seven years since I've worn ballet shoes.

I started dancing in seventh grade which means I have now been outside of my canvas shoes for longer than I was in them. At nineteen, I stepped into heels; a new and modern version of dance for a new and modern me.

As I write this I am eating three cream cheese bagel bites in Starbucks. I imagine how pleasant the sight would be for men; seeing me lick the white paste from the corners of my mouth, the tight grip of the pen in my hand, my focused yet oblivious gaze. It's these thoughts that often keep me inside.

Even getting here required the drone's assistance. There are too many bus routes and too many people. Anxiety induced by the cold city and bland bystanders. I opted for public transit rather than Uber because it's good to sit in discomfort. How silly that I have to go out into a characterless city to build the character inside of me.