Showing posts with label other. Show all posts
Showing posts with label other. Show all posts

Friday, May 04, 2018

death dream

visited by a brief vivid vision of Death this am - so vivid it woke me up at 730am. i only remember the very end. i had expressed the fear to them, "brett thinks when you die there's just Nothing next." they seemed to smile even though they were cloaked and had no visible face. brett and i are lying side by side on the ground. there's no pain or anything. it's almost like it's just Time To Go. we're as ready as we can be. Death tells us it's time. i start feeling different almost instantly but it's gradual, not harsh. my vision is dimming but my body is filling with warmth. the feeling is of comfort. i start to smile but say "wait!" and reach for brett. he folds into me and we hold each other, grinning, dimming. Death peers over me, the inside of the cloak is still a darkness with no face, "does this feel like Nothing to you?" and we are letting go and it feels like fading out and tuning in at the same time. my mind is joining the infinite universe and i'm saying goodbye and hello. and then i wake up !

Sunday, April 08, 2018

keyculator dam disaster

theimmediaten probelmwith this chairn is tehs nsteeri ng wheel.. fuc,ing.

everye fucking time i close a door
every fucking time i close a door
every fucking climb i chose before
every fucking time an open door
it's here
i can't see anymore
okay
it's okay
it's better
it's better not to see but fast
but fast
the keyculator
the atic
okay
thank you dear one

i just saw january baby on my bookshelf in my room who has been there for who knows how many years somehow i just saw her for the fierst time since coming home
these are my eyes
these are my pathetic eyes
finally i was able to say
thank you
thank you
but where were my eyes before
where did i think she was
where did i think i was
how do i know what i was without her
my little external soul
well
well
arent we lucky to have so many external souls
little bits and pieces we can scatter
arent we witches lucky
let's keep mixing
this is the pot
this is the mixigt pot this is the potion
i make myself into you this is the potion
i am infecting you
this is the potion
i am inflirtrating you this is the potion


i like to sneak i like to creep
i like to hunt i like to haunt
i like to fly i like to leap
i like to sink i like to flaunt

who has a heart


whose is it

the cat comes in the car as the neighor porch light blinks on off on off every time a car passes but
but hello kitty
scratching it all up i love it
scratching it up and my fingers so faimliar
this is the only way out here to write in teh dark

i just checked and again i'm sure
this is the only way to write in teh dark.


remember how many words we actually accidentally destroyed
and we stil feel the pain from this loss


in the dark we're still typing and still fighting the cause
not winning we're sipping cheap booze & cheap talls
instituions out there think theyre too big to fall
but they're not accounting a fight from the smalls

we trash talk we lip lock we jay walk for miles
we dumpster we live learn we long fur & smiles
don't you think yr gonna catch a crow's nest full of fools
if you think yr safe from it, the joke's on you
come into the possum den and watch how we make brew
look at what you did instead and realize yr a tool
hahaahhaha
oh boy okay

they said
it was like being in a house full of ravens
they said
people with adhd often interrupt someone else in conversation

is this response a crime?
is it a diagnosis?

listen especially because
i want to be good at listening
i don't want to be the probelm
i am trying to show my




herees the deal
heres the deal
i want to be good who doesn't wan to be good
but
it's hard
i find
i become aware that i am hurting you
even when i don't mean to
my sounds are too much
my voice is too loud
my memory is awful
my hlifes over crowd

and here is this cat that has soethinhg to say
\he's rubbing his face
all over th kays

and here is the point when i ask myself plain
can i honor my words or break them again
do i drink one last drink and keep on this train
or go to bed now to ease future pain

THE ANSWER THE ANSWER THE ANSWER WHAT IS IT
i'm not sure i heard it i'm scared that i've missede it
the truth is there's nothing there's nothing that's right
and the ghosts with the most only find you at night

have i answered myself
have i made it okay
can i say fuck it and throw it away
HOW MANY TIMES CAN I SAY FUCK IT
WHEN DOES THE BODY SAY NO
I KNOW THAT THE BODY SAYS NO
WHY DOESNT MY BODY SAY NO
i know
it's true
on some level i am a vessel
i used to think it was a secret that i wasn't allowed to say
i pretended that the messengers were the ones who would be mad if i told about their presence
when i know now it was just a cover up for my fear
my huge huge fear
indescribable fear
who gave to me this fear
it was not these friends who knew me so long and carried me so far
it was not these ones
the fear comes from this specific hell
and i felt it so long and so much and i want to be rid of its poisonous touch
and probably these rhymes which just billow and gush
and the way i am sure nothing matters past dusk


i'm sorry i cut you off. i'm sorry for all the time i wasn't listening. thank you for keeping me going even when i didn't konw it. thank you for not letting me drive off the road. thank you for not letting me kill anything (much - i know there were bugs and butterflies and i feel it too and i am sorry but i know that it could have been worse)


i pet the cat the good soft cat cat . he has a lot of demands. he doesn't want to chill here unless he has a flat lap. it has to be a flat lap bigger than mine because my hips arent wide enough and i never sit flat enough and i never seem to be able to stay still and i can never take my mind off of my fucking self and i am obsessing and fretting and horrified and diseased and there's a monster you cannot see and i know he knows theres a better lap somewhere so he'll never stay vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvcccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccx v
unless he's published somewhere

it wasn't nice bc he bit me
i don't know what i expect

i relly cant tell if yall condone this or not. but i know there's something special about sitting alone in the dark. i don't want it to be this poison that it takes to get me there. every time i feel it i dont think i'll last the year

the thing is i know there's too many messages. i don't shut myself away from them often enough. this is almost your only time to reach me. you send signs. sometimes i see them and sometimes i'm resistant. sometimes i experience the things they call "adhd" or "gad" or "ptsd" and the message dissipates. i wantedc it i wanted to hear it i wanted to see it i'm trying i'm trying. oh am i trying????
there are so many messages coming at me, and i really do want to hear them, i want to hear everything, feel everything, i want it all. I WANT I TALL. i'm listening i'm trying. i'm never going to be good enoug listener OH RIGHT ALSO I'M ALWAYS TALKING OVER PEOPLE EVEN WHEN I DONT MEAN TO. what do i do what do i do what do i do.
the question i sdo i really need another
how long do i sit witht his
okay i;m turing off teh msuc

iit's a song i love but it isn't appropriate right now.

i'm ready though
the amazing train
its always voice singing to our memphis night
to our track south night
it might be singing get out but we hear a lullaby
i've never heard anything else like those tones
those tones
like nothing else
those tones

i get this feeling like
someone some littel fool is dancing on top of my head and i can't see or feel them
i get this feeling like everything is a joke
what a mess what a mess


is the train just saying go to bed??


did the train ever really mean thiat??

the train say syes jnow.

yes in response.
i don't know if i'm ready for that to happen.

and when youve scared yourself
and when youve scared yourselvef youre scared the others around you

and youve broken thee clown rules
and you've broken the rules
and now you have to say
you're welcome
because it's against the rules to say i'm sorry

and sometimes you feel so loud and you take up too much space and you want to drown
and sometimes you feel like a nothiness thing that could probably stop existing at any moment as long as enough people don't see you at once
and you're going and you're gone and you're fading and you're on and you don't know where to be except ohohohohohover on the outskirts on the edge like a cheese ball like a racket like a noise club like a sunday jacket like a hag gone ragged like yr
help okay\


are you mad at me for this
AM I MAD AT ME FOR THIS
are you mad at
AM I MAD AT
how can i
HOW COULD YOU
how can i heal this bone cold sickness
without a walk in the woods

the cord will talk to itself for eternity, we dont have to worry about it
these machines will speak and gossip just all of forever don't worry

why
why
why can't i write any damn thing without worrying about its future
katherine is sweet to tell me i'm good at being in the valley of despair
but maybe i've spent so long here that i've gone bananas
at some point the creative energy has to flow out
you have to make a thing or start over
i don't know what i've done
i dont know what i've said
i messed up when i got the beer
insteaf of going to bed

i dont konw how to stop
i dont know when to end
i dont know what to do when i hear that tarin a'comin round the bend

and i did a lotta cocaine
just kidding
thanks johnny
i just did a baby
oh what!
no
it was far less
far far less
than the weight of a baby
misicule in comparison
why did i ever say such nonsense

i hear the train a cmoin
it's comin round the bend
i hear the cars and think of bars
where they might've been and
i dont know how to be there
or how to empathize
at least not for a single
i live that 12 pack life

Wednesday, March 28, 2018

why do i feel like you can see me?

i am the death i am the death i am the hell how am i still talking how is this allowed how has no one severed this head this tongue
they want to it's true
WOOOowwwww so emo and still
you can never know what htey want
which one is it
which is the real one
which is the one wanted
who is invited
who gets in the door
who gets to throw down
who gets to lay down
there is a fuzz between them WHO?
pop pop crack
the spine says no
the story stops
how long can anyone sit still?
how long can the body pretend

what does it mean to have nothing looking back

what does it mean

they're looking at you and you know them but you've forgotten who you're being
i can't
remember
the last

oh
maybe
i remember
okay
talking heads bed dancing high while everyone else is downstairs
wait
that can't be the last time
i remember
boat hat beers in the dirty dirty poor and hungry bar
and even then
oh
god
i
oh
fuck
the
summer
of the census
20...10....??? could that be possible?
i rambled about cats
for years
ages
my conspiracy theory about an underground tunnel network where not one but TWO of my cats were devoured for 6+ weeks from my back door into oblivion and back
that happended.
and i sure did talk about.
years
later.
oh yeah and
i'm sure at the slider
and i'm sure at the lamp
and i'm sure i have been a fool at every occasion
is that wanted?
tell me how to be
i
i
i busted up
i bust it up
i dont' know the difference
i want the difference
i want the other space
i want to go THERE
let's go .... o?!
but yeah so i don't do it so good as i wish
and i
oh yeah
i remember that house on tucker
maybe he was dating xoe.?
how is anyone supposed to know.
oh wait
it's only me that doesnt
and i'm still fucking going
(the most pitiful thing)
((i just want someone to work with))
how can i know if i should keep going
how do i know if this is the REAL STUFF
crak crak pop
roolllllssss rols
gimme
okay
gimme okay
gimme okay one more
yeah okay one more
gimme yeah good one
yes never don't yes never stop
keep yes keep on keep forever
tell me
when did i get so into symmetry
tell me when i
get so into me
oh yeah so
kat and i were talking about being BABIES
and how those patterns are still played out
i dunno about you
but i was a fucking needy fucking baby oh geeeeeeeeeez
always skin burning always never happy always crying
but they called me a changeling
and gave me more love than they knew they had
now i'm in toruble
now my glasses call on the floor and i just
i just can't
i dont' know how to call them back
i don't know what's worth it
i dont' know how they made me worth it
i'm needing needing needing
i hate that i need it
i hate the symmetry but i crave it
i dont' know how to not want to help
i don't know how to not find the person who is a project
who is a baby
who is me
who is a changeling
who my favorite illustrator trina shart hyman said was a faery
wow!
but
yes
but
that isn't me
i see the thing and
oh
i am the thing ??
i
even without the mirror i
remember
or
forget
what's the difference even

here. i can say.
it expresses through my toes.
crunching and flexing.
just look
see?
it's a toe code
aka toad
hop along
don't forget
froget
even now they twist and curl and say WHAT NOW WHAT NEXT YOU SAID
oh yeah i did
i said
i know what i said
does that mean i have to?
oh well
yes
actually
yes
because the toes say so
the toes now are twitching
they do their symmetrical dance
(who even teaches them such nonsense?)
we just want to dance
we just want
freedom

OH GEEZ BLAH BLWAH WAHAHWHAHAHAWH
OHOOHHHHOOHHHHHH
WELL
OHHHHH
...
THEN.
fucking
fuckong
fiucking
fucking
fukcking
fucking
ficukihg
fucking
fkucking
fukcking
fucking
fkuckning
fkckng
ficig
ifcnkg
ficnkg
ficnkgi
gdinckg
fink
gifnckging
ifinckg
ifnckg
ifnckgi
fficnkg
fgifdnckkg
fifnckg
finfdkcv
gginfk
fcing
gkdnkcn
v
fg sdouae
oirhoag
eiyoh
oeghig]eiy

youngeoih
oeihgl
youne
oyoije
youen
hojenelyone
goieuone
goyebe
giyljgng
elkhg
g
lkghglkddkd
ghoeiyo
hoiyojnoyi
]y9uoin
io7oujng
eoiyoij
o7o
lyiounl
yiouon

youj
oyoun
youn
youn
 youn are
y7oun
oy
ouojn are y
oyoh a
re y
yo7u
yohoyoj
younre
younrea
younare
hyojare
hyourae
younrea
 the




youhnrae
younare
youten are
tyouoren
yournea the
tyoe
youn
]
aeelelkekeejkekekekeekekek
oyobre
lkekeke
lkenlkghae
kgiun
oiyoijlknlkyk
;iyoun,miyoiu

k

oiyoikkiy hoiiekejkeiekd,weiekflgjfuewjwskfkmnrkle
youn are the literal worst
you are the literal worst
you are the listera worst
you are the listeral wrost
you are the listeral
wrost
you are htel isteral ywuers
you are the listeral  worst
you are the literal wrost
you are the literal owrst
you are the literal oworst
you are the litereal owrst
hou areth thelaitera ost
you are the literal worst
you are the literal worst
you are the literal owrst
you are the literal worst
you are hte literalo worst
you are the literal worst
you are the literal worst
you are the literalo worst
you are the literal worst
you are the literalo worst
you are the literal worst
you are the literal owrst
you are the literal worst
you are the literal worst
you are the literalo wost



loweie
wo shw
eie
hwyea yea yea yeah yeah
wos wos
so
what nwo
yeah oakya so now
okay yeah so now
what now
YEAH OKAY SO
NOW WHAT NOW

oh yeah
you know what now
this is the part where i sneak out out out out sneak quiet creep creak the front door squeak into the out out out into the rain night rain into the car into the mold into the bold mold mobile where i can hear the rain rain rain and not this ... haha you guessed it
let's try again

Monday, March 26, 2018

how do you know when to move?

for the second time in the last four days i found myself fighting my alarm clock and snoozing over and over, not for the usual reason of just not being ready to get up, but having the sense that i was supposed to be protecting something or holding space for some kind of dream meeting. the first time - friday morning i think? - took place in some building that felt very institutional. i know there were people and a story but i don't remember them at all. i just knew that once i woke up they wouldn't be able to have this time together anymore - like i was a conduit for something Other. and i remember at one point the conscious part of my brain, snoozing, saying "brett would never understand this" which of course he denied when i told him.

and this morning something similar - i'm supposed to be protecting something so i have to stay. i must've known what it was i was protecting but now i can't remember. and then some voice from elsewhere giving me the go ahead to get up, "there's nothing you need to protect now."

who is it that speaks to me?

don't remember my dream at all except that for some reason while brushing my teeth, katherine's new favorite song popped into my head (the waters of march) and i remember part of a dream where i start singing some little random melody (ba ba ba baaa) and katherine asks "were you thinking of that great part in the waters of march just now?" and i say i wasn't, but actually HAD been thinking of it and then tried to consciously disguise the melody into something different.

what / why am i hiding ?

Sunday, January 21, 2018

do you remember the children's book "frederick" by leo lionni?

the good feeling i've been riding took a dip last night and i'm worried it'll run away and i still won't have pinned it down at all. it's so hard to even believe it enough to say it, or if i manage to find the words, they'll become only that, and the feeling will fade. but now that it's a question it's better to just do it... right?

i can already feel myself overthinking this. that is the last thing i want to do. what do i have? i have these fast fast fingers and i can type my brain better than i think! i can write the words my mind makes up! i can sound like a real me in text! (i know because laylee told me that 15 years ago and rex told me so today and so i have to BELIEVE or what if i lose it or what if there's something important i could be doing that i miss because i haven't done anything about it. you know.)

it's so hard to believe. it's so hard to let myself remember what i'm good at.

BUT after xmas after snata craws and rodent carols and another round of GREAT GROUP i was near convinced, i clowned for myself in the mirror and i was able to get there which surprised me - but why should it? donna said not to look at ourselves to practice our turns and i totally understand that advice. but so often when i look at the mirror and i see this strange face and i think this can't possibly be me or be real or be anything at all, and i just shut down. for so long i have turned away i have pushed my nails into my palms to unsee i have gritted my teeth and pushed breath through to see to be anything else. now i find that in the times in the late night in the mirror i can explore and see what this body can do. i can see how to find the biggest expressions of the face, i can elasticize.


FORGET FORGET FORGET

i forget. i forget who the body belongs to. i froget we frog together. the mirror thing, with the perfect dissociative cocktail, surprises and delights. the mirror thing becomes elastic, electric, fantastic.

the thing that hurt to look at, the thing i could never understand how to belong to, i find this thing, when stared down, goes wild. it can't behave and doesn't want to try. it wasted a lot of toilet paper.

this is only partially a new discovery. the feeling is in the body, some of it is already memorized. it's burning embers in there all the time, even though i forget.

i guess i'm rambling now. the important part is -- i have gotten so tired of beating myself up for being bad at stuff. of course that sounds very reasonable written down in such a way. but the things i'm bad at are things that many people find necessary to function - eating, sleeping, organizing belongings, remembering information, simple math, wearing clothes, forming words, etc. i don't really want to care about being bad at all that mess. it happens or it doesn't. i can't remember the names of important people or pretty much anything i learned in school. i can't remember why i hate mother teresa until i look it up on wikipedia (and promptly forget the facts again, but i remember the feeling).

i remember the feeling i remember the feeling i remember the feeling

i am toying with the idea of applying to physical theatre school. i am considering how to make my body into a rubber band or flower. i want to be able to squeeze everything out of the present moment and explode it out of myself. i want to roll around and jump and shriek and freak and confuse the fuck out of people. i want to present another way to be.

if not me, then who? if not a someone with hardly any logical memory but great arches, then what am i even around for? surely someone out there is gonna do it. surely they could stand some company.

this was all made abundantly clear, several times in fact, right around the winter solstice. as it turns out, that was right when i was completing my first saturn return - and perfect timing to say fuck you everybody, i don't care what you think, i can see so clearly what is important. (reminder of what is important: friends, love, art, magic. this is an incomplete list but you get the idea.)

morgan got back in town for the holiday and wanted to go out to the bar with friends. she picked the so-called irish pub, not knowing that a bunch of us had gone there for trivia the night before (don't worry, we lost) so many of our group didn't come along this time. and it ends up me & brett (& later kat) in the weirdos corner with morgan's most type A segment of friends all crowded into the booth on the other side and all i can say is "YEP here i am again indeed, oh and what now? i'm doing an in depth study of mental health, now that i'm back from the loony bin" and there's nothing like a night like this to remind me how much i don't want that life, with the husbands and the babies and the business casual luncheons. UGH writing that is so obvious i could just spit on myself but no no that is most of the world and i think i can be allowed to write it down occasionally. the important part here is that i maybe felt a little embarrassed at first and especially trying to explain wtf i'm doing with myself, yes back in memphis, yes living with my folks, yes again, but more than ever, i feel like answering this questions is more a nuisance than anything else. i don't really care if they judge me for the answers. i don't really give a fuck what they think, truly. are they judging me for being practically unemployed and living with my parents at 30 and oh ordering another drink this late? yes they definitely are. and am i judging them for being salaried breeders who always vote democrat? yes i definitely am. so we're even.

i'm tired of the waffling shuffling pretending i can play for both sides. when i lived in baltimore i felt like 2 people in 1 body-- a demure, polite, if slightly eccentric, part-time librarian with sensible shoes and nothing but patience, and a barefoot feral drunk at the local anarchist commune / urban farm (except not even totally that because i still had to make sure the bills got paid and be The Sensible One which is not me at all and was boring as fuck).

i'm tired of fucking around with that world pretending i can play along. i just can't hack it.
i know i know i don't have it. i'm far from it. it's been six months now since i got out of the loony bin and came home. it doesn't feel like that long but i know my folks are getting antsy for me to figure my shit out and get a move on. meanwhile i don't want to rush making a decision because that is what keeps getting me into messes, it seems like. but i think i'm getting somewhere this time. maybe.


when i was a kid we lived in a small bungalow house in the artsy neighborhood of town, before it got gentrified. the dining room in the center of the house had 8 walls, branching off to the front hallway, our bedrooms, the kitchen, the bathroom, the back yard. "the octagonal room" was the true center & the heart of the house. at that table, my mama accidentally served us inedible cake decorations at the table. at that table, we grew crystals for SIX WHOLE WEEKS on plastic toys & charcoal for a science fair project. and under that table, most importantly, we made our own world. no fort could compare to the one on the persian carpet, table cloth on all sides, and pillows snatched out of beds. what did we do under there? i'm not quite sure but it was all magical, always, because it happened there, in the secret sacred space.

that's the space i want to create for people. if i am not here to take people under the table, i'm not sure what i am doing at all.

***there are other worlds there are other worlds there are other worlds* and they are all around us**

now i've got 3 glasses of wine in me and i still haven't packed so. i'm annoyed bc i dont think i even said what i was trying to say. or it all come out wrong. fuck all. the point is, i am frederick. (or i wish i were.)

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

(sloppy words found on an envelope, some time during or after clown class, spring 2017)

i always stand there thinking I COULD DO THAT so why not?
it must take a massive leap. no more pretending to be REAL, no more faking.
i'm tired of being the Responsible one. ugh

kiss them up dearest touching (????)
kiss face to wind to sip or spin
kick up the dirt that isn't dancing

if i can't go now, i never will go
if i can't know (?) now, who will fucking tell me?
no one will mourn nor remember you
it's already too late

oh to write the things that think
before the thoughts are formed
BUT how to be so quick?!




somehow all this bland shit is just
pressing the pause button
in between what is surely
the greatest show on earth or ???
I'm craving (?) to get out of
this version of myself.
NOTHING I WANT is allowed.
is that me? or is that just
totally pathetic. i'm tired
of feeling totally pathetic.
i want it all to be a rush (?????)

i have a lot of work to do.
realize these notes will never be read.
even you will not read them.
become as indecipherable as possible.
you are not made to last.

i want to make everyone believe in magic
that is hard + true + dissonant.
i want to be bugs + dirt + children +
death. how can we bring it.
it's not here in this place with these people.
you didn't find the thing you thought.
it's not your fault. you had to try.
it's not a place, it's a feeling + a purpose. you
know that. you can't rely on a new location.
how is it that you feel more bright and
alive now that nothing is real, no one is
awake, and you've got four drinks inside?
not even blurry silly, just convinced. This is
not the hovel you're looking for. the right
answer is not gonna come in a flask. there
is no right answer. but you have to kill the
feeling that something is wrong + find out

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

this family has known from day one that I didn't belong here. why not own it and go full creature ?

the others send me no smoking signs. the phone getting stolen was big. here another, the whole pack of smokes I lost was found, returned, I was joyous until I found them all broken and wet and it's just like me and how much does it take for me to know a metaphor? 

how I find it so hard to speak in this language. how nothing nothing nothing makes sense. 

Friday, May 22, 2015

the porch problem

when you think you are performing for someone but there is in fact no audience 

when you try to create something for yourself but can't stop thinking about the impossible potential audience 

why I never write anymore 

why I sing only during dishes

when will I learn 

or figure how to forgive myself


amy and I talked about the selfishness of artists and wondered if that's what it takes to make anything worthwhile. do I have to stop everything else? not that it is anything but I haven't written in weeks, months, years. what do I want anymore? can I blame the place or the job or just me?

a borrowed beer on the porch, a beer too often. a smuggled smoke, ashes again. 

these small sacrifices grow a larger harvest. they don't answer the questions or the problem. 

where can I go? my home under the hill? I've almost stopped believing. 

there's truly no place for me. 

the truth is I'm stuck again and I hate myself for it. the worser truth is that I don't see any way out. even though there are people out there waiting for me, wanting me to bring the fire, I can't believe that it's the right fire. I only have one flame and it's gone out. nothing to be done now. 

have another smoke, another drink, don't think.
the porch is the only place you'll ever be, there's nothing here but what you see. 

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

sometimes, in the distance, I see beasts. 

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

however

however happiness is never. the time it comes is the same that it goes.


the restless feeling makes me run to the bars, to the people, to the substance something. 
there is nothing there. that is not where i needed to be.

instead i'm trying this old tack: jam jar gin and tonics, a rollie on the porch out back. 

this isn't it. 
it isn't anywhere.
the only thing is the cat in the drawer.
the only thing is never, more.


i pretend this isn't right, that there's another place for me.

it's nowhere. 
it's nothing. 

cant even complete these sentences. all i hear is wrong.

Friday, September 21, 2012

crumb + crime

some lines tapped out drunk on my phone and high in my room, in a
matter of minutes over a handful of days--

(i'm sorry, you asked.)


carrying you
the broken doubloon
pockets of deception
full and heavy with treasures
cherished or forgotten

funny how we came together as it fell apart
broken from the start, but now scattered
at least a fourth gone forever
and the other smooth slivers tried to lose
but somehow i never do manage to

how much was i holding in?
how long will it take to wash away
near nine years of constant chemicals?
no one warned me:
waves of unchecked estrogens, enzymes wreak havoc on every piece
of my system and knock me off what little stability i rocky rode,
cysts crunch tight ovaries twisting, wrecked
weeks of white knuckles, eight days of thick black blood
birthmarks bleeding and browner than ever
so sore, so much, so tired, so sad
so so done
get me gone

shedding it all
getting rid
the sticky slickness of newly opened fruit
it pains and pours
cant keep anymore
i feell down

couldnt contain it and split my sense
on the pavement spilt my whisky and my mess
but not a drop for you
and fingers that beckon but do not ask
split sick open wide
spilt self all over
cant contain--
i didnt want to
i disjt mean to
he did not ask to take the fruit

they usually dont


and where did i lose you?
between the unealked streets of our interchange
without negotiating the borders of this new land
under a haze of confusion in the cloud of uncertain substance
so how could i find you?
why shouldnt you float
in and out
to and fro
up and down
i coukdnt ever hope to stay
a mess of indecision
a cobweb tangle heartsore

that heart was whole
in my pocket all along
it missed the chance to sing our song

and now my fruit is rancid, rotten
under wilted odor of noxious lovers
who sucked on my spirits and promptly forgot them
greedy plundered all sweet offers

tasting and taking the higher they climbed
entwined in the dance called the rape of the vine

they took as they tasted the best of my wine
they took me down dancing the rape of the vine


why did i assume it was all in the mix?
that the music would speak where the silence kicks?
that they'd stay to sleep when the fruit was picked?
why i’d rather not ask than take the risk
when at every end i’m trapped and tricked

how hungry did you have to get
to try a night with me?
look past the sagging sacks and
maneuver the tangles to get the fruit
this is no courtly quest
there was no love story


and so pulled out the clot and held in my hands
nine years of clear caught love, spent seed
everything i tried to keep
a ball of blood and mucus down the drain
sent off without ceremony
now what do i do with all this feel?
without a stopper or a net
and now, not even any eyes
dumb and blind and come and cry

and what we saw on the deep dark highway
were roads of stars through layers of heavy trees
all that hanging life and sweetness
and there, ahead, still and silent in the middle of the road
the fawn, the wandering grazer, small shy and calm
not the deer in headlights
not a thing but trust
we slow to let her finish, turn and cross back towards us in the dark
not running
not away

the beauty leaves a bitter taste
i want to scream, to get her gone
don't look at us, don't believe
you can't stay here girl
you won't have time to learn

then
two dead doe
and there it is:
every sister, mother
splayed in center
the white lines
straight through
legs broken
necks cracked
i try, but i cant take it back


now the cat in my lap and the wine in my hand
hurting and working without a plan
i won’t tell you how it really ends
you’ll do your best to understand
but wonder why it’s back again


mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm,mmmmmm
^this is lucha's contribution
can't say i don't agree
you asked
i'm sorry

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

the lonely heart poetry droning in hearts becomes songs that all objects sing to each other

just decided to pause on the job search when i read "police chef" and thought it sounded like a great way to make money. although i'm not a very good cook, and i don't do the meat thing... still.
yes, i'm still looking for a job. yes, i turned down the offer from the property management company. i feel a bit weird about it still, but i really think i would have been doing a disservice to myself to stop looking at this point. it was my first offer, and i think i have other avenues to explore. as brett put it, "Secretary at Confederated Management is not the way to start your career as a genius." mostly he could say that because my dad had just turned up some dirt on them on the internet.

plus, i asked the runes. basically what i got is that i can't lose sight of the big picture and remember that i don't have to stick to a narrow path to reach my goals. taking that job would have lead me astray. i need to work on not settling and not being so dependent. i got really flustered about how impossible making this decision felt. now i feel a little more relaxed, remembering that not everything is under my control and these decisions are actually not so huge. and... well.
well you all know i love bugs, but this is just ridiculous. i'm afraid to count the number of them in my room right now. is it because i opened the window for a few minutes yesterday to lean out and pet cosmo's little floppy head? is it because there is apparently a huge hole in my wall with only a thin layer between me and the outside world? (no wonder winter is so cold.) or, is it because i am a fucking bug magnet and always will be? and my cats just lie here... it's really not a problem except when they decide to crawl around on the computer screen, which just confuses my eyeballs. well. except for roaches..... DEAR GOD. WAKE UP KITTIES.

listening to: akron/family - ed is a portal

Saturday, May 08, 2010

incalculable indiscreetness and sorrow

currently suffering from constant disappointments. how can i possibly turn this around?

i seem to have lost any fluency i once had in human conversation.
also, words in general.
it's just a COMMUNICATION BREAKDOWN. it's always the same.

the girl from my film project mediated a q+a conversation between me and the boy i dreamt was my friend. i was floundering, so frustrated with her impudence, killing.

where do i keep going? the weekends feel like the polar opposite of the weekdays, and that's how it's been all along. except that the weekends aren't really good anymore.

i can't think of anyone i want to talk to right now, but i'm desperate for something. i'm terrified of where my existing relationships are headed and incapable of forming new ones that could be as important and beautiful.

just spilled water all over myself. only 10 minutes ago i was cleaning up the wine i spilled when i tripped on the stairs. not even tipsy.

i'm not present here anymore, but then again, i'm not sure i ever was. but then again, i'm not sure i've ever been. i'm starting to become terrified of going home.

am i even human? how can you be sure?

these lines near killed me today:
when i saw the blossoms broke after the rain
limp and sodden, when you wrote me again
made me think of spiders i washed down the drain
spiders' ghosts, thrown up and back again

blessing all the birds that died so i could live
be a woman
be a woman

all i can do is do.

Friday, October 09, 2009

i don't remember what this means anymore

another possum, stock still in the right middle of the darkly wound road. beautiful, i see glowing eyes. i thank my professor for braking.
girl on bus tells me she doesnt like them.

have i rediscovered a secret to sleeping? the old fetal position i used to do all the time, before i started spooning.

three green sprouts in my salsa jar.


it was only small because everything was samll.


image through a video. maube?
oobebesessiososonnn

i need meaing
]he said...
belifs???

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

you can hear the whole world whispering

so me and christian made the 11 hour trek to chicago and yes, we even made it back to the mountains. i have no words right now for how it feels to be back... i'm very confused. grateful for the trees and the birds and the SPRING but not the stress and tension. well i guess those were words, but i dont think it really counts.
i dont feel like talking about chicago right now. ask me later, if you care.
MEANWHILE today was the first day back at school. waking up at 8am sucked mightily, but i made it out of bed and got to work TWO MINUTES EARLY. [applause] well folks i checked my mid-term grades and they're not too shabby... various forms of the Ace and a B for Bradshaw, but thats beautiful because of my bumbling bastardization of a research paper. so now i feel like i'm allowed to be a little more relaxed about school, just knowing that i probably dont have to destroy/depress myself when things will be fine. i forgot that that is sort of how school works. ha! seems like years since i have remembered this fact. who keeps these sorts of secrets? after vics, it's lunchtime but i got to avoid gladfelter thanks to a leftover half subway sandwich from the road. hallelujah! i never felt so free. i walked in circles, even! i scrapped my usual beeline to the food trough and stumbled nonlinearly through the formal gardens and behind some unfamiliar buildings till i found a lone red backpack, full of water-logged papers. i could use this kind of company, and the view was good, so i made my spot. immediately i notice, as anyone must when sitting in the grass, that the whole ground is moving, and blades of grass flick up and down with the weight of sturdy black ants. do people talk about 'an army of ants'? i feel like this is a phrase i've heard, but it's not very accurate (well, maybe for fire ants), because the buggers are just all every whichaway and scrambling here and there with no real sense of unity except for FOOD. which is what i had, and there seemed to be more and more of them as my picnic went on. but i thought it was just wonderful, because bugs are just such joyful company, although i dont think they really thought the same of me. i did try to reach out a friendly hand, but the reaction was never good. i suppose it's a helpful lesson for me, to be reminded of my true size and also that they feared me and my power, despite my good intentions. i think these are good things to remember. in any case, i gave them a bit of onion and lettuce and watched them haul it about, to my great delight. maybe people wouldnt complain so much about ants ruining the picnic if they would just learn to share a little... it's really great entertainment, seeing how a tiny ant can tear apart huge chunks of food and lift, what, twenty times its own weight? incredible! so i sat and ate my sandwich and watched the ants carrying parts of it away and let the springy breeze wash me over. ohhh the spring! it always makes me feel so completely renewed, to the point of cliche. and today i just sat on the top of this little hill of brush and i couldn't hear anything but birds and mountain sounds, and a far-off drum circle which i will attribute to the theatre department. and a sudden click-click-click-click made me look up and i thought something was gonna explode and kill me, but it was just a woodpecker, and i really wished i had my camera to shoot him perfectly framed between two powerlines, and the sun spitting somewhere through the clouds, and i can hardly stand to look up out there but i have to, because of the birds! every movement in the grass and the trees and the brush is fluid and sudden and i'm hyperaware until a FUCKING BUMBLE BEE comes at me out of NOWHERE, literally flying straight for my eyeball, and me literally squealing and falling over onto the grass with my sandwich. WHAT are you thinking, bumble bee, why dont you bumble over there? but then i remembered that i can make a good bug friend, and the bumblebee doesnt want to hurt me at all, and just wants to say hello. okay, hello, you can come back now. so he comes back and my sandwich is pretty much done so i leave the limp tomato on the ground and follow the bee to an odd little non-path that goes down the hill through the brush and i can see a butterfly flitting over an abandoned well just up ahead. well, of course, i have to take this walk, but when i move, i scare a feral cat, and she runs outta there pretty quick. definitely a black cat in my path, is this an omen? i'm sorry i scared you, kitty. good luck in the woods. two oddities: some forgotten "tree gear" hanging off a branch and nearly drowned on the forest floor AND a beautiful black-striped rock sitting on a rubbermaid barrel like an altar. so this little non-path lead down the hill to a real trail, and i have to walk along this for a few minutes, with the bee trying to bumble into me the whole time. what the hell are you thinking?! along the path, there's all these strange rock structures whose purpose is sort of lost on me... i need to research this. to me, they look like shrines or cradles, and i want to crawl in even though i am not rock people. maybe one day i'll go take a nap there, at least, and see what i can see. the float and the flutter calls me OUT and everywhere but i realize that it's 1pm and i am officially late for class. i followed the path back, i picked up my paper and plastics, i went back to the buildings. i had to stop on the way to take a picture of a beautiful dead bird with my fucking camera phone. was that disrespectful? i have to think about it.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

didnt i didnt i didnt i

this week has been BIZARRE. my alarm has been messed up and i've woken up hours late every single day this week (not counting sunday, when i did not wake up, because i didnt go to sleep, and i still didnt finish my paper, but at least i turned something in) and i've missed some work and some class and a fucking exam, but i am making up the exam on friday. pretty much everything has been really up and down... i know that i keep saying that and it's sort of a theme for the semester, but i really mean it this week! didn't i say a while back that it seems like every week gets crazier and more intense?? i think it's true, because this week has just been absolute insanity. the weather has been BEAUTIFUL ever since the weekend, just like spring! which is crazy, after the fucking snow attack last monday. the weather has really helped to improve my mood, which basically means distracting me from the shit that i have to do. i am gonna go ahead and talk about yesterday in list form since it was just crazy.
--alarm clock somehow silent, woke up at 11:40
--sent yet another apology email to carol howard
--upset and talked to brett, who convinced me to go to class
--danced and class flew by! did an awesome stretch
--got an email from an otherkin type who is coming here in the fall... YES
--shower with my new tea tree body warsh. contemplated singing, but didnt.
--picked up a mysterious package from the post office, but i'm not allowed to open it yet.
--WORK. looked through archival photos and giggled with emily
--bossman informed us that my coworker/friend is withdrawing from school... i got really down and didnt know what to do besides send her a facebook message, how lame is that.
--vegan cajun dinner at cowpie!! OH YES I DID eat three bowls of etouffee!
--morgan takes me to the secret hammock and i get barefoot outside for the first time in far, far too long
--forced myself to go to the library to study for anthro mid-term
--talked to rachel on gchat instead!! sine we last talked, her life has become completely insane!
--talked to risu-kun the otherkin on gchat!! WOW SO EXCITING
--library closed at midnight, i saw TWO possums on the walk over the bridge!
--brett and i distracted each other for an hour or so
--tried to work on anthro study sheet
--talked to JEREL on gchat for hours! it was fucking great and intense and weird and damn it if i dont miss him like hell sometimes.
--finally went to bed around 5:30. i felt sort of guilty because i'd had my lamp on the whole time but my roommate seemed to be sleeping fine and she didn't complain. today, my alarm fucked up again somehow, but it managed to be an alright day anyway i guess. i rushed around trying to finish my study thing for anthro but i barely used it on the exam after all and i think i did okay anyway. went to work. talked to brett on gchat but kept having to hide the window from my bosses, i dont know how successful that was. WOOPS. i wanted to stay late to make up for some lost hours but i had to meet with bradshaw at 5 to talk about my progress and my paper. it turned out that he hadnt looked at my paper, so he hadnt seen how bad it was and he didnt get the note i left with it. there were a few things i had intended to say but couldnt because even listening to him talk about it made my throat close up and all i could do to keep from breaking down was keep drinking the fucking rose tea that he always gives me. and he kept saying things like "you cant flog yourself, that's just not productive." and he kept saying that i need to take more initiative but also that i need to chill out. we talked for an hour, but mostly i was just listening, laughing at the appropriate times, nodding, and trying not to fall apart.
tomorrow i am seeing the school counselor. i can't wait for this fucking week to be over.
this weekend is the beginning of spring break! my parents are driving up on saturday to pick up my sister and take us out to dinner at tupelo honey where i will eat veggies and drink wine and talk with my wonderful family. on sunday, me and new friend christian are road trippin it to chicago. he can't drive but he is making cookies. i will be so grateful for the company, and i know he will keep me entertained. i hope it's a big ole bonding experience, because i think he's really cool, and i'd like to get to know him better. in chicago, i'm staying with brett at the bowers house, tagging along to class and pretending i'm in art school for the week. i am really excited and nervous.. there's so much to DO and sometimes our visits together go really nicely and some of them are not good. there's been so much anticipation, i feel like it HAS to be good! i am hoping that next week will keep up with the pattern of the semester by being intense in some new ways and then being relaxing in others. you know what i mean? you might not, but you can imagine. anyway, everyone should send good energy to me and my vehicle on sunday.

Saturday, March 07, 2009

I saw a thousand darling imps

WHY didn't i just choose to write about sex in victorian fairy tales like a normal college kid??? WHY did i go and choose this completely impossible and unsummarizable topic that is at once totally fascinating to me and completely frustrating?!?!!
it's moments like this that i really hate myself. why can't i seem to change?? i do this every time. and now it's 12 hours till the paper is due and i have one page written and a pile of fucking notes and THREE piles of references on my desk and AHHHHH i am about to drink some venom to stay up all night, wish me luck and pray that the fairies help me finish this.
DAYLIGHT SAVINGS OHHHHHH FUCK 11 HOURS

listening to: suitemates watching the dark knight and kids outside singing around a bonfire