the smoker sensation of always needing to be somewhere else.
need to go out to smoke. need to go back in to the real.
no one needs you anywere.
the antsiness. the wrongness. the wait, why did i come here? the wait, whhat do i need? need need need and it isn't in this room. or should go, should not be.
all along i've thought it's nicotine talking to me - is there someone else too?
(a weird feeling at the napping house tonight - feeling that i just shouldn't be there. keep itching to leave. but maybe probably did that to myself.)

terrible typoed text-to-speech while walking peppy

The tuss and tumble of two chickadees twittering twirling twisting as one in the scrap grass in the dirt in that little block of green brown green by the sidewalk in Spring Green Spring Green ground spraying inside lock screen twisting tumbling as one twisting curving Trent twirling twin twisting testing twins turning am I watching them fucking is this fun or ugly? Are they happy that they know that? Do they know that? Chickadees may be chickadees it’s fun to say at least. And the green spring birds flying one to as one to anyone birds to as one.

In the street on the concrete in the green brown spring and the green springs, the right angle in the road flag place down stands up blaze down the flag at squirrels tail that’s all there is to for the flag waving up and down goodbye I don’t know what to ask for anymore. Forgiveness? Or rage?

I used to ask the roadkill ghosts for their forgiveness and their aid. i used to plead. i used to tell them they’re beautiful they’re beautiful I’m sure they know. i used to tell them I’m sorry I’m so sorry you’re beautiful please forgive us please help us.

Then I felt we didn’t deserve their help. Haven’t they given enough? then I asked for their rage I said rest in power. I said stay hard. I said stay angry. I asked for their fire.

Now I don’t know what to ask can I even ask for anything? What do I think I deserve? Why do I think I’ve done for them? Just my little prayers. Why do I think they want my little prayers? How much is a witness? I see the squirrels now mostly. It’s a shame that they survive this winter only to be smashed into the street. It’s all a shame. I am ashamed. I see in the street everything to me I worry that used to live at used to run it and breathe. For a long time I started saying my little prayers before I even got close enough to see The for her bones. For a long time my eyes were playing tricks on me. I would think I saw a corpse but it would just be a blown out tire. It would just be shoes. For long time still I’m tense at any object in the road. Sometimes it’s just leaves. Now I am wondering about what vision so I’m singing with signs. I’m wondering aren’t they all aren’t they all corpses? And leather of the shoe from some unknown cow? Whose hands crafted this blood went into the machines that built it? What plants what fiber? Isn’t everything deserving of a shrine? Isn’t it all made out of death? Now

Now I don’t know what to ask for. I don’t know. when I’m driving down my normal road between my walks to different dogs and in the middle of the street is a flag waving and the flag is attached to the body Evelyn wants squirrel and the flag is a tail and it is waving, I don’t know what to ask for. You are still beautiful. You were always beautiful. Your rage or your forgiveness, they are not mine to ask for.

Everything a corpse. Everything I pass on the street, on the walk, of course. A corpse. I find it hard to look. Whether it’s TRASH or a body I find it hard to look. Here is coral baby in the middle of the alley. Mouth open eyes open holes. The Gloup and gloom of rot rotting flesh. I force myself to look. I don’t know how to see this. I don’t know how to on see it. Everything is baby, as Kathleen says. These babies gone sour gone sallow, these babies no mothers no homes. Who will care for these corpses in the street in the green brown spring in the green and brown dirt? All the watches over them is rubble. Is 10 cans is plastic and Styrofoam is melting cardboard in the rain and the sweat in my heat in the sun and then she mentioned that heat of the spring time sun coming down green brown coming down. None of this is words I’m writing none of this this is significant kind of power this is a new kind of poem One that lies one that speaks lies. I knew kind of boring told out loud told unwell. Maybe I must learn to enunciate or else except what I get from my mouth to this mouth no hands problems. Pepe is ready. Pepe is always ready and always has been. Petty is baby

if it’s two mirrors, one is round. But it might be none. Done I don’t know about the stop and start stopping while I’m still talking why do you do this to my phone. I have the urge to rhyme when I’m speaking this way. But it’s hard to make that rhymes with the lips and say. It’s hard to say that rhymes out loud if I want them to stay. Rhymes with speaks are stupid now. Rhymes with thing. Rhymes with fingers make more sense. and with fingers make more sense if this thing will ever actually seen saying what I want will keep recording the words I’m saying then here’s all the planets your girls this year it’s more of a tear drop Van Ness fear. I must learn to enunciate I wonder I wonder will it hear me better if I’m saying in clever??? Will it hear my words more whatever let me know my cards for her words.

chords

Do you know me better there? Do you think the clever?

Peppy I Am Merely (Nearly) Human

last night all night

ahere i go sneaking again
in my own home!
starting to feel okay again
now that i have a purpose with a pen
not a pen but fingers and keys
never learning aim to plesae
stomach sick stomach sore
boring boring boring bore

the point is. the point. the point is.
i have a fucking problem with codepenancy.
it's true and it's sick and i fucking hate putting tihs on you. i feel disgusting. i feel like trash. i don't kow how to get rid of it. i don't kow any way back.
i can't be good enough for you.
the last few days - since you dyed your hair - you've been so happy. so much yourself. so alive. lifght. i can feel myself draining you. i can feel how needy i am. how i've been draining you all along. how now that you have filled your cup, i am just sucking at it, leeching away. i am the toxic one. i am the crazymaker. i am everything i didn't want to be for you. for anyone. i am fucking up over and over and over i have no idea what to do. i say "i need to get back in therapy" i've been sayign it for months. but what the fuck do i tink that's going to do
?! it won't fix me. i won't be better for a long time. everything is wrong. i am way past broken.
there's teh light flicker of a tv on in somene's bedroom window, second floor. there's a light flicker as the bugsppass over the lamp post lantern light. the soft shiver of the white crepe myrstle????
i have been forcing you to worry about me. giving me your energy.
okay i guess not forcing but ..... i fel manipulative. i feel like a wretch. i do not feel like a beauty maker. i do not feel like a lover. it's me, i am the toxic one. i am the one who hurt me. it's me, i am the cycle.
why do non-tobacco cigarettes always hurt more? why does it seem like they burn the tongue annd throat instantly, and almost anything is smoking one too fast? is the power of nicotine just to make you not feel those things from teh cigarette? is that all teh drug does? the magic of fire you can't feel. is that why we love the spell?
mayhbe there's a thought there but it's half baked. half cooked. pathetic. like all my other thoughts. wasted. useless. goner. overdone. halfdone. undone. never nothing. none. shut the fuck up and go home. a meager image, a stale old bone.
what the fuck even now you are trying to rhyme. why? why? why? justkeep fucking trying you piss of shit. what the fuck do you think is gonna happen. something ? no. NO. you will always do this, nothing but this, nothing but piss. just drivel dripping down your fingers. just empty weary letters wither. disgust. disgust. distrust. no. no. no. no. there will never not be nothing. there will never not be garbage. there will always be you, sucuk in this body in this mind in this hell of repetition and forever gross forever ghsot. new? something ebtter? something different


i guess i messed up in the dark. what teh fuck else is new. nothing.
forever forever forever just tihs. forever my whole deal taking a piss.
why did i think i could have your kiss
why did d i think it would be different than this.

why did i think i could be better
why did i think we could better.
why didn't i know this is always the way it's goin to be no matter what and forever.
stare at the leaves and see teh summer
something is coming and something's a goner.
nothign sallow wilting longer.
help help help help help
my rhyming father's daughter
my crying mother's daughter

do i actually feel high from this fucking cbd shit
wahat is the damn deal
i smoked one of these hemp-ettes
and now i feel a i've drifted
what and were does my mind go
is it because i've told it so
did i malet teh tether long
did i wish i'm made of song
yes forever yes forever yes
my voice has flown out of my chest
i wish it would i wish it could
but nothing better beter best
nothing beterer nothing yet.
my voice is stuck in tiny humns. my voice melodies writ on rum. my voice the pieces silent sung. my voice a kite that's too far flung.
slipping away sickly slidde slipping slide away
healing nothing healing fine
burping along to ninety nine ninety nine
whipser
nienty nine
hehere
hear
here my heart is beating fine
why can you see only rhyme
when will i better will i different
never, honey, lay down in it
do i even care what i write?
dthere's nothing here to hate or like
whydo i think smoeking this is a good idea
who saidanything about good ideas
NONE nothing NONE nothing NONE
why do i think i'm worth a some

pillow fader pillow farther
little later little longer
but just good get gone now you
but a sling sucks to your shoe
nine and nine is mine and crew
slick pea sweet knee not this goo
why do i why do i why do i do
where do i go if not with you
just chug this beer and let's be done.
why is ihs my only rhyming SCHUME. SCUM.
i'm sick of this i'm sick of it i'm sick of this i'm sick of it. type type type. why why why. bleed it out until you dry. OH MY GOD PLEASE HELP WHY IS TIHS MY ONLY RHYME. WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY.

if i felt kablooed after that first smoke, look how i'm gonna feel now. am i gonna be enough for just one beer? what am i gonna need? how do i fuel this fire? how do i stay so dire?
i womdner why i'm herein this rhyme. i wonder what happens, every time. how di get here. why do i tryl.
STOP. okaoiwh
oh my god. help.
really i'm stuck relaly sreally relaly.
what does that?!?!?! is it booze? night? ocd brains? the rhyme the RHYME it won't let me stop. i'm trying hard to stop the clock. OH MY GOD am i though?
?
okay
is it just that i'm actually relaly distressed about something and i don't know how to write it real. is it that i still can't express how i feel.
HELP.
i think actually yeah. it's just a bgi distraction. the way that lplaying a game on my phone would be. or scrolling or something. it's teh instant grafication.
i haear a crackle in the yard nearby. will i spy a new fried or will they wander by?
a leaf and cracke. a rustle sigh.
how much moves your body in the window?
how much meter memory do most carry?
why does that even pretend to matter. stupid.
why can't i shake these stupid sentence structures.
i just want to go somewhere new but i' stuck i n sthese fuckign rhymes. i'm so mad. i'm having to fight.
aoeg
maybe that's not what i get from teh night.
maybe this is just my plight.
OR
GODDAMIT
MAYBE TIHS IS the distraction the ultimate distraction from myslef. talk about compartmnetalizing goddamn. talk about adhd. talk about gone forever away and a day. talk about no.
talk about you were just having this important realization when you went into crazy rhyme dumbass land.
you are a drain on your partner. you are stifling their energy. you love each other. you are full of love for each other you. but you are demanding too much energy. too much time. you are being codpenedent as fuck. you need to learn new pattern.s you need to unlearn tehse old patterns. can you do it while you're in a relationship??? (can you do it when you're NOT in a relationsip?)

i just got stuck in spell check for 300 years. thatnks keyculator. i mean i do appreciate that you have the capapbitly. you're a good guy. you know that? a real good guy. glad we came out tonight. good going, us.
DID I NEED TIHS? can i continue to pretend that i need this? how much more do i need? how much do i need now? how much am i gonna dneed again? why does booze work like this? WHY DOES ANYTHING WORK LIKE THIS. i get real good then real grumpy when i dont drink. just like i get real happy then rela sad when i go off antidperessants. except booze is a depressant. so shouldnt i just stay happy. what. i want more. i'm grumpy that jerel drank my second to last yueng ling. i get grumpy when they drink my booze, even though sometimes they buy it for me. i never drink theirs. (but i rarely buy theirs. except i buy it when we're out of the house. and i buy other stuff. but they buy stuff. why am i worried about his this is so stupid. )
i just want one more. but there isn't one more.
r

remembering body, remembering music. dance. what a thing. what a feeling. how much i imagine and make into small moves. is tihs the big thing???? maybe the moving body can create music and words and pictures together - maybe better than movies. what about it. you never liked light. go to the stage.
but gotta say tonight's meeting felt pretty okay. despite all this sadness despite all the mess business i want to make myself be, tonight's meeting was. well. now that i'm looking back-- good. i really appreciate the group that was in the room - kind of a bwierd bunch together. i love that. i LIVE for that. basically gender segrated, as almost always. oh well. the circle round starting from the southeast corner, coming counter-clockwise - ben siler, brett, me, jerelle, sarah r----, elizabeth, court. a lot of people who don't know each other that well. this is what i wanted. this is what i always want. i want to see these people become in rooms together, become twosomes and threesomes and genius poly configurations that make the thing happen. i want to see it all happen. that's always been my job. let it be my job. let me not be anxious and let me revel in my job. let me just bring them to the ground and let them build the mountain. HA what a fucking egotist. what a piece of scum. what a nightmare to work with. what a selfish bitch. what a hohohohohohoag. hoagie.
i'm having another one of these weird green fake cigarettes. the one with stars in their green butts. i dont even.
i didn't even buy my plane ticket tonight.
i didn't apologize to the people i should.
i didn't say thank you.
i didn't make plans.
this stuff i'm smoking it again teh green one. it's stronger than iwould think it is. that is to say, YET AGAIN, that cbd does stuff to me that i don't expect. i think - it's not weed, it won't get me. but it do. my head feels foggy and my ovaries feel tight. wind whistles through the spiny trees and flies friends to the night. the pollen falls around my feet, in my hair it lights. without their pollen we haven't got left anything too nice.
haha it's good to write bad rhymes. but yeah. done with that. FOR NOW.
wouldn't it be better to dance tho.
wouldn't it always be better
i've been doing yoga for a few days HAHA look at me pretending like i'm doigng stuff or making habits with this stupid few days bullshit.
suddenly (ha really?) feeling suicidal. what did i do this time. what would i ever do different. haaaaaaa what a nightmare. what aa joke. never will i ever
i expected this lil weed seed baby smokey treat to be the calm kind, what i get from my own herbal rollies, or at least the fearsome fire of a tobacco style smoke. instead i get the woosh brain smooth smallness that i associate with my weed panic - is it just my association doing this? or am i allergic to the wrong part of the drug? everyone else says this stuff doesn' fuck with their heads. okay okay.
WELL
i wasn't supposed to write about htat
i'm saying
i am gonna buy that plane ticket tomorrow.
i'm gonna talk to donna.
it will be okay somehow. for now.
ha.

even my cat is judging me!!!

I HAVE TO LET MYSELF HAVE WHOLE DAYS JUST FOR WRITING

keyculator affirmation defense

4/1/19 - fool's day.
my good mood swift swung sour. what did go wrong? working through the artist's way, i am supposed to write out an affirmation about how i am a real and good artist, and then write out all the negative feedback that my subconscious brain sends back to me. this is at once easy and hard. as i get going, i think of more and more awful things i tell myself, i fill a page. it's really putting me into a bad mad sad mood to be tellign myself these things right now-- they really do work!! and now the book wants me to flip each of these bad "blurts" into positive affirmations that i am from now on supposed to say to myself every morning. ugh. this afternoon i cried aka my throat closed up every time i tried to read through the affirmations she has just in the book - i deserve a rich and fulling creative life - etc. wuff. who says?? so yeah this is even harder. i'm stalling when court comes in, i'm trying to explain how i can't just write the 100% opposite of the bad self-talk and she says why not? and why not try it? and i'm saying because i don't want to and because i don't care about that stuff and it does't mean anything to me. but i'm getting defensive and she's like maybe this is why you need to do it, and it's just making me more irritated.
(as i'm writing this, it's making me feel like there is something here related to my general dislike of white woo women and their homogenous ideas. what if everyone really did walk around saying "i belong here" and "i am perfect as i am" and bullshit like that? what if we were all that entitled? what if everyone thought/felt the same things?)
((is this a real fear? am i just being defensive? am i actually wrong? does everyone belong here?))
so i'm using these examples with court - the first one is all the way made up but it does sound like what i would do. if my negative belief is "i'm ugly" i don't want to say "i'm beautiful." instead i would say "i'm bringing ugly back!" to me, this is powerful and real and motivating. why? because i don't care about beautiful. ugly is awesome. i have written a lot about that already, how i want to "reinvent what ugly does." but this example doesn't work for court.i try again, with a real one from the loony bin when that asshole gave us CBT worksheets.
"i don't belong here and there's no place for me in this world" becomes "CARVE IT OUT!" again, this is empowering to me! motivating! YES i have a goal and something to do! a VISION! (i need to have a vision to have a reason to live. that's quite motivating in the loony bin.)
she says "why don't you just say 'i belong in this world' because you're a human and you do belong here?" and this makes my skin crawl. but, being me, my hackles are raising up and my eyes are dancing and my thoughts get fuzzy and i say-- who knows what i said?! i'm in serious defensive mode here. i am physically feeling it. it happened so quickly. now that i'm writing this all out, it feels like it makes sense and i can logically answer what i couldn't say to court 20 minutes ago -- i DON'T think humans automatically belong here, or that all of us do, or something.
oh yeah, i said something to her about, to say "i belong here" would be like saying "the world is fine and i'm fine in it" and she says no it's not the same. and i say actually the world is garbage and it feels bad to say it's fine. and she says the world is not garbage. and i say okay well the world isn't inherently garbage but we sure have fucked it up.
i don't know. maybe we have teh same ideas but different ways of expressing tehm.
or maybe what i was saying didn't make sense at the time because i'm not good at talking, but it makes sense now and there's nothing wrong with my take on this affirmation exercise. (i do feel a lot more calm now.)
OR maybe at heart, i'm just a pissy middle schooler reading adbusters and bitching about the system. a debbie downer. nothing is ever gonna be good enough for me. my ideas are not fully formed, my perspective is miopic and closed. (is this true? i think that's how people see me but it's not how i see myself. because i do see beauty. just right now, i look up at my wall - the true cost of coal poster from the beehive collective - and i know that i am right - or right with myself, that is. right to see the world as sick. right to be dissatisfied. to feel like positivity can be poison. but also i know there's magic and renewal, despite how broken our culture is. to me, the poster is screaming "CARVE IT OUT!" just like i want to. visions of a new world. i don't want to say "i belong here" when "here" isn't home. i don't want to let go of my visions. i imagine myself saying "i belong here" and "i deserve to be here" and i feel my Self fading as my future visions die. i can't imagine holding both. how could i say that and hold the gate?)))) where were we with these parentheses.
the other part of it, i am now realizing, also has to do with my "weird" thinking about humans and bodies and death. i've already lost a way to say it that makes sense. but it's related to ghost life.... "i" is moving. "i" has died a hundred times. we can say that, we've seen it. "i" belong "here" is......?
i don't kow where that was going. maybe it'll come back.
anyway before all this. this is what always happens. it takes longer to recount the event than it took to happen. why do i bother? (i used to love this so much, when i blogged. it was so important to me to catalog. is it meaningful in some way? or useful? i can't imagine. maybe one day it will come in handy for something.)
so court and i had this conversation. i got real worked up real fast. defensive - not mean - but "intense" morgan would say. my thinking is unbending. these feelings are big for me. and then court left awkwardly and i'm just falling falling into my grouchiness and disappointment. i feel like SHIT partially from writing all these awful "blurts" that feel really really real in my body as i write them. and then feeling as if i have to defend that i'm doing the affirmations exercise THE WAY I WANT TO DO IT rather than the way someone else wants me to. (it doesn't even say in the book that they should be the exact opposite of the blurts! i feel like court was putting that idea on it and i didn't like how that felt.) geez it feels so much more clear now that it's written. i guess this is why i do this.
so yeah. that all happened. i was defensive for reasons taht make a lot of sense. things escalated quickly because i was in a vulnerable state. and i felt like shit. i didn't know what to do. i asked the tarot, am i being a big dumb baby about this?
(Was court right that i was being stagnant and unbending in my thinking? was she right to judge me for hating positivity? am i actually blocked in this way? is there something wrong with not feeling comfortable saying affirmations like "i belong here" and "i am clever" and "i have original ideas" etc??)
AM I JUST BEING A BIG DUMB BABY?
(shuffling, the deck cuts itself in half, with three a group of three cards turning away and out to me - i only see first one on top but the whole group is talking. and opposite, the bottom card on the top half of the cut deck, the ace of cups reversed. court just got this card as well. DUMPING out. letting go of emotion and energy. goodbye.)
7 of pentacles
daughter of cups
the magician

7 of pentacles is a very neutral card, only black ink and no living figures. just lines, seeming to go on forever. the pentacles connect the lines where they meet in right angles, in a diagonal across the card. this card is about work, its unending nature, but having teh ability to step back and see the big picture. look how far you've come. it keeps going but you're doing it.
maybe a neutral reflection on what has happened. looking at yourself honestly. that's more important than judging yourself as a baby or not. are we making progress? can we still see ourselves? (wondering when i started referring to myself in plural all the time when i'm writing. it makes so much sense always, especially writing because it feels like channeling - or bringing together parts of myself that are disparate.) (that's teh other weird part of "i" statements - how can i act like i am one thing? maybe i can't say "i am beautiful" because part of me never will be and never wants to be. maybe part of me never wants to belong. does that mean i am broken? sick? do you know how it feels to be sick so long? how you spit on my progress with your pressing?)
7 of pentacles is netural reflection. looking back in order to look ahead.
page of cups is a favorite card - truthfully, i love all the pages, but of course i have a soft spot for this swan, and her rainbow shadow water. yes her SHADOW self is rainbow and she's delighted in exploring it. the simplicity of inspiration. the simplicity, honesty, of real raw emotions. first thoughts, first feelings. the wonder of the world. the rawness.
(this is something i don't want to lose. again this gets me thinking about the homogenous Woo cloud. or any sort of homogeounous culture stuff. and yeah i don't want to "belong" if it means i've gotta twist my ideas to your standards. no thank you.)
THE MAGICIAN. my power card. my dream archetype. this one is especially important to see. hi hello you can be in your body and in your power and access the infinite universe and also be fucking strong and staunchly independent and grounded in your worldview. or - willing and open to change, looking for action and new ideas - but there are some concepts you have to stand on that are not going to change or go away and that is how you know you're still standing in the world as your "self" - everyone deserves love. everyone deserves justice. binaries are boring. etc. whatever. i don't have all that fully articulated now. or probably ever. but the point is that this card always makes me feel powerful, or like an imagined powerful version of myself (especially in this deck, as the jaguar, with the red/orange/yellow streaks from a black sun.) it makes me feel - i have a grasp on what is important. i have glimpsed magic. i might be able to access it if i worked on my balance and learned how to weild the tools. (the tool of MY BODY and the tools of creation/creativity. tools of conduction. tools to become a conduit. LOVE AND MAGIC. CLOWN. AHHHHH!!! okay.) experiencing the power of life by letting go of ego. the beginning of action, of new projects. the ability to harness energy and create magic. a connection to the unknown. in a way, a gate keeper. or yeah, a conduit. okay i'm just repeating myself now. i love this card.

to recap: i was working on the artist's way exercises, then i had that conversation with court. the combination made me very defensive and irritated. i asked the tarot if i was being a sad grumpy baby. i wasn't really sure what the answer was until i started writing. i have written a lot. i have written more than i intended, as per usual. i have written and that's all i want. this book/program is supposed to help me get creatively unblocked, get in touch with my Self, and get to fucking work. perhaps this isn't the intended effect, but i think it's working. this doesn't mean i get to stop, of course. i never actually wrote my new affirmations. wait nevermind i wrote a couple. doing the best i could -
-i am deserving.
-i have interesting ideas and my perspectives are worth sharing.
-i am recovering and discovering myself, taking care of myself, and becoming friends with myself
-i am just as cool as i want to be

but it's not done of course. it's never done. i have to write something i can actually believe in. it's all about the power of words, of course. then i have to say it to myself, again and again, day after day, until it becomes true. ish. even though i'm never going to say (or want to say) an affirmation like "i'm smart" or "i'm beautiful," i don't want to keep carrying these negative beliefs and this awful self-talk. i can replace those with something real. it will be okay. i am exhausted now. less grumpy but more overwhelmed. i'm done for the night. i just want to veg out now.



you should write a sonnet

keyculator, stoop and hall

already oh dear the thought where is it
it is an unflinching thing. sharp.


maybe what i liked was the unfamiliar. or wthat's what i crave. or think i did. bc i adjust to everythihng. chameleon. sinking into patterns. i crave that sinking in feeling. the passageway. maybe that's why i'm sitting in the hall right now. sitting in the floor, looking at the painting and the dust and my feet, and here's my cup of wine, and i hear jerel playing a game at the end of the hall, all the sounds. but i don't look at my hands and that's good and okay. i am just thinkig thoughts almost. isn't this ohow i think? it's sentences. it didn't used to be. i am not sure, i've wondered always, what form do other people's thoughts take? what's their shape? jerel says there's always images. that's more rare for me.
look at that. my cat comes back. the end of the hall. an angel! he's learning the house, nervous, stalking. he's learning the circle. the house is two concentric circles sort of. the hall is the main vein. there are times i avoid it. there are times it feels unnecesssary to my movement, my destination.
jerels' game is getting loud. i should close the doors.


four pockets, four directions.
a stone - a rock, really. i recognize it as one of my own, sitting on my parents' coffee table. i slip it into my front right pocket. a fake flower - fabric. pink. i like it. i was looking for whatever mom thinks willikers was playing with in the (non) living room. i don't see much / i see too much. the flower could be the thing? maybe, maybe not. but i like the color. (my room needs color.)
a twist tie - the color of cardboard. implies "recycled" or "natural" unlike the blue/white/yellow ties normally found on bags of bagels and the like. i don't know what it came off of. i feel like this is a thing that i always expct to be there, and never ever am i gonna pay for it. here is one on teh counter, unused. pocket
packet corner - the plastic yellow corner of a bag of cough drops from the floorboard of my sister's car. i am suupposed to open them for her. i do not litter. i take trash towards me. i bring it home. (i am home.) i bring trash home. i bring it towards its home, my body. you get it.

i wish i could remember which pocket housed which item. why do i wish that? what purpose would that really serve? it's not like pants have directions. i can assign them as i wish, as i prescribe to where my mind/body/center sits.

two weeks ago at movie night, franklin made popcorn, two delicious huge bowls. at some point near the end of the bowl, i wish i remembered the cue (she probably does) morgan tells me "i've been holding these kernels in my hand." i tell her "i put mine in my pocket." she asks "will you take mine too?" and i put her moist discarded mouth seeds into the pit of my pocket. along with my own, i am sowing them for somethign, the possibility of the pocket.
the pocket
the portal
the pocket
the portal
i wish i had a cigarette
i'm tempted to go buy one
instead i am gonna look for my rolling papers and make an herbal thingie. raspberry leaf and uva ursi and shit. and maybe some of this cbd business that smells like weed but isn't. let's try. i have the urge to be under moon, under wind. i dont' want to leave my cat, but the night is calling me. the cards want the night. i am listening.

p.s. when i took off those pants and found those treasures, i put on new pants and found new ones - selenite and bitten off finger nails. what to do with such things!

i'm surprised how much video game noise distracts me. (am i?)

(wondering, did you turn the game down once you heard me moving outwards? or did it just get to a quiet part?)

realizing i'm sneaking again. SNEAKING in my own home! is it for fun or is it from fear?
i realize i'm trying to small myself, curl up, walk toe to heel down the whole hall. i've already left my slippers in the kitchen to be quieter. i realize my throat is tight, closed.
this was one of the things, one of the whole same things. open open open. project. speak. fill. this one is so big. i just want to sing and squeak. instead i smoke and drink. i dont know. i dont know.
i see it.
i'm working on it.
right now i am going to smoke this herbal thing intentionally. i am drinking wine. i maybe should just sleep but i feel like this is one of *those* nights. is that fair?
i dont' care. i'm trying to follow the impulses. i'm trying to feel which are mine, if that exists.

what about holding space for the dialogue between air and electricty? earth and plastic? i know we have enough worshippers of pollution. but how can we have a beter conversation?
i don't entirely know what i'm thinking.
just remembering feeling a magic in electric light, from a distance, like a wish of fairies. the intimacy of parking lots. (and of course their opposites, going both ways. the loneliness of parking lots. the intimacy of a thicket of trees.) what have we actually changed by replacing plants with concrete? what spirits linger here now?

p.s. feather of swords is lookiing up at me when i open the box - after court last shuffled. i hold the cards just for a moment - the only peek i get is the lovers, reversed. just the bottom left 1/8 of the card, but i recognize it. goddamn.
okay.
gonna use a spread i saw on instagram a few months back and have been meaning to try. lets see.

lost found

i begin to think everything isn’t real and this is just a ??
but i’ve been inside a book and 3 beers and tears and i don’t know what i am and what i’ve found now that i’ve come out of it
what is enough
where are the thresholds
how do we see them
how can we honor them
how can i thank everything enough for what it is
how is it okay for me to be alive and consuming

i have my friend here! the cat dr g. what a great guy. what a miracle to see him here giving life to this space. how did i not see how empty it was before ???
how have i not seen how empty the days? when is the last time i touched anything real?
thinking about swamps and sheeps and

maybe there’s a bog witch feeling in there somewhere
(maybe the thing is just to do it and stop thinking. just find a place.)

sad clam stew

what have i done what did i do?
interrupted again i guess
came in with a question and turned around
asshole
but couldn’t take the passive aggressive? response
just tell me your feelings are hurt
just ask me to leave
instead it’s just you don’t want pizza anymore. you’ll have a cucumber sandwich.
now i don’t want pizza anymore
now i don’t want anything
i feel abandoned again
lost
useless
sad
lonely
you don’t think i should feel abandoned bc i’m “never alone”
but you are the one who keeps choosing solitude - how can that be the same feeling?
i’m not mature enough for this relationship
i’m too insecure
i’m not secure enough for this relationship
i’m too immature
the catbox smell sticks in the air
not the stuff but the litter
it’s dusting everything already i guess
the air is already thicker
it’s in my throat like a tickle
making water taste bitter
just dust me dry me burn me away
leave me lying in the dark
leave me lying under feathers
never look at me
never look back
i’m not enough for this
i can’t not overreact
i couldn’t give you enough
i’m not what you need
i’m not what you deserve
i love what i lack
your patience generosity kindness cleverness
i rot i wilt i falter feather
giving only when i need to
getting all of nothing from you
questing licking split the center
rent from mouths mistakes they quiver
climbing clinging higher tighter
melting winging longer lighter
nothing gone from nothing gained
bring me back some nothing name
give me grievance give me shame
give me pleasure give me pain
gone from earth and banned from hell
damned if we didn’t rum barrel yell
this got off track but that’s the point
be free before you blow this joint
go wild run now go wild get down
where did i go
where have i been
i wanted to just say what happened
the words ran away with me
such a sin
the rhyme it tricks me makes me bend
time to be done.
time to be gone.
i only wanted to say it plain
is there a way i can ever do it or will i always cloak the hard parts in the poetry ?
why is this the only place i find it ?
(because it’s melodramatic stupid and embarrassing
and no one should have to read it
you wish you never went to write it)
the flow moves pathways in my mind and it skips along a different rhyme
but rhythm stays the same maybe even every time
i’m done i’m dying
i’m cold i’m crying
i’m not i’m lying
i can’t stop sighing
and every time wonder did you hear ?
stopped half hoping you’d appear
you don’t have words for what i’ve done
i can’t come back from where i’ve gone
but it’s time to make pasta time to sing songs
remember that the night is long
remember that you could go blond
remember that you started this
and you could stop it with a kiss
you know that you could just keep going
when river words are easy flowing
but when they show no signs of slowing
you learn to know when to stop rowing



“the end is nigh”-ing

rat trap night sack

sometimes i forget about how the page used to offer lines. the clear distinction in my mind between lines and the huge block of a never ending paragraph. like the stories didn’t require it so they didn’t receive. and the poems had a whole different vocabulary, different shape.

i have to remember to read more shapes. more poems. more weird words.
rex’s book. angela carter. poetry all the time. what am i doing.

actually these video games are funny sometimes with their lines in a way i can get behind. i didn’t expect to be so drawn in by the words.

(but also there are other words, there are other worlds. we can’t forget to visit.)

i’m up late carefree silly on a thirsty thursday. a pushback against feeling yet again a failure for my parents? a finding fun pushback to jerel playing their new game where i have an excuse to be silly / seen?
i’ve been reminding myself to look for the signs. see that everything is speaking. tonight i saw a lot of words. i saw images i can’t imagine where i found them in 2001, 2012. (“a circus orb” et al.) what were they saying?

do i want another smoke actually or do i want the cool outside alone? can it be both or what is healthy? this drink is probably already too much so maybe it’s also enough. pasta and white wine with the fur family in the museum and broad city episode about hoarding - is it weird that it didn’t hit closer to home? or did we feel it without fully comprehending? was there intention in the writing to actually touch the subject or was it just a vessel for poignancy and laughter? how cloaked can you go?




the remembory is that it can’t be forced, the remembory is that it comes in spurts. we seem to work in sprints. (is this a “good” thing? is it even “okay” or do we keep needing to fight to find some perfect balance? the correct timesheet planner equation? doesn’t it feel too much dependent on yr brain and body and mood to predict? hasn’t it always? how do we leave room for it and still do all this other garbage mess?)

all we really want is a _____ train

stop being obsessed with yourself you prick





listen at least yr writing at least you got to here. this is where you will meet them.
(hello train. hello night. enter smoke. enter game.)

is the place where i have been going
-when i have been able to get there-
the place? where others go
i know there is a stream
many streams
to look and dip and lick
have i found any access points
or is mine a secret chest

(there are rhymes wanted that i do not choose. there are lines waiting that i should not lose.)
((can i be a one to flow through? can my fingers make my mind true?))

if always the revelation is about the revelation then we can’t go nowhere.
if you can’t get the fuck off this one stair then we can’t walk anywhere can’t move can’t do can’t speak can’t teach and then who are we for? still only ourselves still ever our cells still nothing that sells still
there is a something which will creak
there
there yes i’ve heard it
there yes and the word yes it’s singing
creak and sing
teach and bring
let me be a nothing thing
let me be lip to lie on
let me be a lid pried open
let the softness scream our songs
let the darkness live along
and when we dream of day again
we know that we can take the pen
and when the day is vast and open
we know that we must make the potion
(we know that we must never read
the words that we never did speak
we know that lines can come alive
before our hearts and minds divide)


maybe i can open the connection but i don’t know where to go. maybe i’m so worried that it shouldn’t be me. maybe i’m convinced that i’m just an instigator, enabler, facilitator, translator, assistant, nodule, fake. was i even supposed to be here today. was i even supposed to eat any cake. surely only sitting in to sit the wings and make the smoke.
how do i find what the house is about
i want to be the vessel
how do i receive
(if you want to be the muscle
you must first be meat)
and how do i muster the sounds of the moldy
and construct what’s left behind when i’m left lonely
what do we do with the ones who’ve abused
what have we done when we’re forever snoozed
listen
listenlistenlisten
you’ve never seen the kitchen
listen
the critter creaking over there
the sirens trains machines that take the air
we’re sure you haven’t seen much greater
so get off the elevator
quit yr game of rising high
lick yr knuckle spit dry and listen listen listen
hi
if you’re not watching who is ?
who is stewarding this land
who would kiss a possums hand
shut up with that i’m not a savior
but look at what the good gods gave ya
if i can’t get words for all
maybe my own aren’t so small
listen
listen
train train plane rustle car rustle TRAIN car TRAIN central air train train drip drip rustle wind rattle rustle rattle hush rattle rush rustle rustle come to me rustle rustling one so free will you be raccoon or cat will you be possum or rat will you be a friend or foe will you be which grazes low
rustle drip rain falls now rustle train rattle brain slow small cloud drip car drip fall slow soft don’t snow rustle dribble birds quibble cars rush birds hush a light to shine a sounding line an awkward caw a swaying soft the rustle leaves although i’m looking the tussled trees continue cooking

coocoo
cakoo
coocoo
cocoon
speak speak speak
tweet
sleep
squeak
some small holler far away
some life will leave and some will stay

sometimes i forget that we are the bodies we have
in these spaces in these places

spring soon

Doing this mileage taxes thing has been weirdly introspective -- tracking my past, where do my days go, where am I going. Definitely got me thinking about how little I've been doing lately and feeling bad about my "progress" or something, down on myself about what I'm "supposed to" be doing. This morning I'm moving slower than I'm "supposed to" according to my list, but my brain is doing stuff that's maybe good. Rolled around in bed with Jerel for a while, but not "too long," took a shower + my brain wasn't stuck on the list for once. Spent 15 or 20 minutes brushing my hair + listening to a podcast by the Gods + Radicals folks that's mirroring some thoughts I've been having about the white pagan and new age communities and how they're such bullshit! And I'm over it! Is it avoidable? UGH. So I rinse my hair, I burn some palo santo, then wonder how sustainable it is, and is it like sage that we've decided we need it for every damn ritual and cleansing despite it not being native to most regions (not to mention it doesn't belong to us) and I'm remembering the bunches of pine needles I collected from the ground to make into a smudge stick, remembering whole bunches green + fresh that the trees shed, seemingly so early, but they knew winter was coming + they had to conserve their energy, and suddenly I realize that I've been slow, partly for the season, and it always goes sort of this way, and it's good to recharge + spend time with my honey, relax + retreat + conserve + observe. Spring is right around the corner, and the world will open up again.

(4pm getting fuzzy -- I think I forgot to take Adderall again...)

losing wood

Back from walking dogs -- there goes the day again! How can I make time for everything?!? Where does it go?!? I feel sort of frazzled and crazy even though I didn't take Adderall today -- a conscious choice to see how my brain would feel. Still a good bit of spinny eyeballs + racing thoughts. But the energy is good -- could it just be THE SUN? Finally out to say hi? And it's nearly warm outside, I actually got hot in just a t-shirt after a couple dogs. Or could it be partly that I had only one beer last night, when my norm lately has been three? Or is it again just this sense of today as a new beginning + wanting to somehow do it all at once?

Have been trying to work on this car mileage spreadsheet for over an hour and have gotten literally nowhere -- 100% stuck! I feel like I've totally lost the momentum I had earlier in the day, and I'm completely unfocused. My mind doesn't feel super fast but it does feel jumpy and unclear.

(So I took adderall! Maybe it helped?? no idea.)

a newness

I'm tired of acting/living from a place of fear and bitterness and confusion.
I want to love more, better. Now.
I want to have patience, be more kind.
I want to write + take time.
I'm afraid of how some elements in my life make me feel -- screens, adderall, etc.
Am I losing all my empathy? Patience?
How can I slow down? How can I do better?
I ordered a new planner for some reason-- always the thought is "This will really get me on track!" It's just a tool, not a solution, but maybe it will help (if I let it, if I don't let this little fire die.)
Already, today is the start of (another) new era. Jerel is training for their new job at Wizards, and I have my first case at UT on Wednesday. After spending the last few days alternating between mega evil tax hell and total vegging out, I'm in the mindset to take charge of my finances and my records, to do better than I've done before. Wanna get on that hustle!

i think i saw another one of those faces the other night..... a face full of stars??? or.... coming out of the stars?

night visions

just remembered those crazy face images/messages i was receiving last night trying to fall asleep.

orange and bright blue feathers and paint, fiery excited curious eyes
deeper blue ish face looked like it was carved of wood, stoic, lined
the feeling of huge soft silvery white eyelashes closing and opening, kissing my face, huge bright blue eyes
a brilliant shining eye (eyes?) in the darkness - the sense of peering up from some depths

i did wonder if they were clown gods.

were there more?

the rest is hazy as i am getting closer to sleep. i feel like there's this sense of a green/black mottled texture... not unlike moss or algae. maybe had a face but wasn't as clear.
and did i really see... a goat??? or horned animal of some kind, in silhouette.... (maybe this was something i gave myself, after having the thought that they might be clown gods.

the first three felt very close, like they were right up in my face. and very focused on the eyes.

definitely felt like i was receiving these images, perhaps from some universal stream of creative energy, or perhaps from the gods or the fairies or the spirits or the ghosts or whoever's faces i was meeting

HERE IS A THING YOU DO

you ask someone's opinion before you have let yourself think about your own opinion. YES YOU HAVE ONE. sometimes, sure, you don't actually know until someone says what they think, and then you realize, oh my feeling is THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF THAT. but maybe sometimes you are just being lazy!!! or asking is automatic aka yr doing it because of codependent tendencies.

STOP with the reactionary weirdness!

THINK before yr asking someone else what they want. you fuckin do it all the time. sometimes it's because your recall is bad -- like, "where do you want to go out to eat?" because you can't remember anywhere you've ever been.

AND NOW you are procrastinating bc you've gotta get htis shit done and you don't wanna! self sabotage! ahhhhhhh! stop!!!!

zoned

need to get better at winding down at night. when i stay stimulated i don’t get tired. gotta get away from screens at night! (now a sound has spooked me and i feel ridiculous. help. will i ever sleep ?? )
got wayyyyy too excited over a kind of small thing tonight. i think it really satisfied my adhd brain. adderall brain??? i’ve been in tons of crazy internet research wormholes all year and i was just talking to kat about how hard it is to pull myself away out of the wormhole and away from the screen because there’s always MORE and there’s no clear end and there’s nothing that satiates my brain’s need for stimulation. where’s the reward?? so i’m lucky enough that alice is paying me to do some research (although i’m sure i’m doing more of it than she originally intended) (and for some reason i get panicky about this job when i’m not doing it but as soon as i am it feels really good and natural etc) so i’ve been looking at a bunch of financial and marketing crap i don’t understand on and off for the last few months. a lot of that time has been researching an automatic payment or direct deposit system for the teachers, who are independent contractors with tutti studio. and tonight after literally like 3 hours of more research on this same topic, i finally found a reasonable, simple, cheap solution. (i mean i think i did. we need to test it out.) but it felt so GRATIFYING and i was physically giddy and eeeeeee and wow i had been exhausted and ready to quit just moments before, and then i had a burst of energy that lasted.... well that was almost two hours ago now. but tomorrow is another big big day and i can’t lose steam now! so! gotta sleep. gotta try at least. eereeeeeer help.

imagining myself upstairs, typewriter click clacking, glue licking. can we follow the aesthetic of 2017 clown "Grimoira" style of floral print, rich reds + purples, piles of books, LAMPS?
(how important is a color scheme, really? in my imagining it's often very clear, such a MOOD, such a way to shift into a new reality. new realm? is it mre about the style or the space? schedule? is it back to one notebook lifestyle or would it help to have a planner? def need WALL CALENDAR and visual lists.
DESIGNATED SCREEN TIME. HOLY SHIT.
sun and lamp light. an unnecessary amount of fabric. (does a studio have art on the walls or is that just distracting? what is good enough to look at all the time? a bedroom certainly can have full walls -- posters, postcards, drawings, lovely things. a collection that feels like myself, not holding onto something for someone. not an ARCHIVE but an expression. but i suppose too the lists have to go somewhere. living space or work space? CAN THERE ALWAYS BE PAPER? Can i start to actually use it?)
Opened the box of the Numinous tarot, seven of candles (wands) comes flying out -- the card i drew for the new year (unknowingly kinda) on Samhain (but of course i did -- also need to call on the High Priestess / The Diviner more often to trust, to follow my intuition and let my body go first. Mind will catch up. Move my hands to move the cards. Find it with a feeling. /// Looking for a feeling! The body knows some things the mind doesn't!! /// I'm now wishing for space to MOVE, dance, sing, play. Wishing for knowledge + skill to teach Pochinko play. (Could I really go to the clown farm?!) Making this year about -- courage, expression, light, opening, creation, strength in self, support in community, FIRE. resistance. power. commitment! positivity?! SUCCESS?!?!
also, drink less.

[look how even the pencil breaks, refuses to work, doesn't even cooperate to erase. the words must stay. of course the only pen I find is PURPLE of course. thank the gods of course of course]

things yr gonna do

start a workshop series

host movie night

host writing group

host salons

host art hours

make an installation show

write a script

make a zine

publish an essay

release an album

tour a show

write a biography

let me be a better sister
let me not in my sickness linger
let me carve paths through the suffer
let me see
where i dropped me
and pick back up my sister