a box inside my chest, an animal

today is the 25th anniversary of "the letter" by kristin hersh... just wanted to share that. it's a really intense song, one that i have been dependent on at times, and i know it has been life-changing for so many people.
so, listen to it, i think it's important.

i could not get through september without a battle

today officially feels like fall. walking home from the empower center, i catch hints of roasted marshmallows in the air, that familiar slightly burnt smell that goes with this season. the crisp air felt amazing today, but i am dreading what's coming. morgan says it finally feels like wilson, because so much of our time here is spent bundled up against the cold. it's almost hot chocolate time, i guess that's comforting. something about this weather has made me decide that sitting around my room in a sweater and underwear is a great idea. i think it is, even though my toes are a little cold.
today, sophie asked me how i'm doing, and when my response was hesitant and unsure, she said "oh yeah, your mood always corresponds to the weather!" she's very right. even though i maybe felt a little off today, i was welcoming of the change. i am so ready for this month to be over, for this little section of my life to be done, to move on, somehow. i'm not sure how to accomplish this. perhaps i need a self-help book, or a professional. for now, i will stick to my own program: tea, tickles, phil elvrum. throw in some reflective emails for good measure... but how to let go of so much outrage?

listening to: the microphones - the glow, pt. 2

why put the light on at all?

today at yoga i arose from deep relaxation surrounded by leaves, in my hair and even in my hand. during the class, a cold front came in, and the beautiful day turned into real fall, yellow leaves and all.
each time i go to yoga, the class feels shorter and easier than the week before. i think that it feels shorter because i'm getting used to the pacing, but i think that it is really getting easier, and not that i'm getting stronger, like i wanted to. partly, i am not pushing myself as much as i perhaps should during stretches, because i keep thinking the hard stuff will be next, but it never comes. i might try a different yoga class this week if i have time. don't want to limit myself..
especially since monday is now the meeting day of the new radical mental health collective! today was the first meeting, and in my opinion, it sorta sucked. we were basically just talking about what we want the group to look like, and one dude in particular (who is a nice guy) dominated the whole conversation. i'm nervous about what this is gonna be like... i dont think i could discuss my realest shit with a group of 20+ kids, only some of whom i know. but i'm definitely gonna go next week to see what happens.. mostly what i'd like to see is shared strategies for coping with madness, and more than talking about everybody's personal problems, discussing mental health as a whole: what it means and what we do with it.
i think someone is drinking my soymilk. i think this because tonight, there seemed to be *more* than last time. i think someone is drinking my soymilk and replacing it with water. i put a note on my soymilk. they better not do it again.

listening to: kristin hersh - glass

humiliation was imminent

so, morgan and i decided a few days ago that we had to see the decemberists at their show in asheville. it was sorta last minute, so they weren't the *best* seats in the house, but they were pretty good, considering. yes, they played a huge auditorium, complete with balcony and all. i was very stressed out about getting to the theatre on time. i worked until about 6 and then sat in gladfelter till about 6:40 when i realized what time it was and rushed over the bridge, and morgan and eva asked if we could go by malaprops beforehand and i said "i guess so we have to leave RIGHT NOW" and off we ran. well of course there were still people arriving all throughout the first band's set and even afterwards. the opening act was laura viers and the hall of flames who i began to enjoy more and more as they played more songs. not the most spectacular lyrics, but some of her images were interesting. it was interesting to see a 5-piece band that sounded so minimal. a large part of it was the absence of drums.. they did have one floor tom that they played occasionally. it was just interesting for so many people to have such a minimal, simple sound. it was nice... but very calming, and not a great preparation for the decemberists' set, if you ask me. there was something like a 15 minute break after laura viers, and finally finally the lights dimmed and the decemberists took the stage. they played "the hazards of love" from start to finish, with guest vocalists becky stark from lavendar diamond, as margaret, and shara worden from my brightest diamond as the forest queen. i thought their microphones were too quiet, or that the guitars were too loud, or something, because i couldn't hear them as well as i would've liked. still, i could tell that becky's voice is much stronger than the album would have me believe. (morgan tells me that in her own band, she sings big. i'm not sure why they made that choice on the decemberists album... could it be because she is a frail little woman, the lover rather than the protagonist? ugh.) her voice is beautiful, but her dancing is... not. it almost looked like shara was teaching her to dance at some points. both of them had very stylized sort of moves, to get them from the back of the stage to the front, and highly theatrical poses during their singing parts. becky as margaret just wilted all over the place, her hands in poses of submission, totally helpless and frail. shara, on the other hand, was intense, punchy and low and angular, and soooooo much fun to watch. i definitely want to look into her other music now. although both of their moves seemed pretty planned out, becky seemed a lot more stiff and self-conscious than shara. i would have thought that after being on tour with them for so long, she would have gotten into the part a little more. but, of course, the whole thing was just beautiful, but the story still confuses me.. i mean, i get the basic plot structure, but i have a hard time following the transitions and understanding exactly what is going on at any given moment. and the climax.. i just don't understand at all. so then there was another 15 minute break before their second set! this was quite exciting. colin informed us that they had crafted the setlist specifically for asheville: all their 'country' songs. "but it turns out we're not a country band" and they were apparently surprised by how few country songs they had. the songs were not all my favorites, but there were some real gems in there. so the set: Angel, Won't You Call Me?; Leslie Anne Levine; Crane Wife 3; Down By the Water; Shankhill Butchers; Chimbley Sweep; Dracula's Daughter; O Valencia; Crazy on You.
Down By The Water is a new song featuring colin on harmonica, and that was lots of fun. Chimbley Sweep was completely ridiculous and got totally silly about halfway through. during the bridge, colin wandered out into the audience and climbed on the seats and was deposited back onto the stage, only to pretend/attempt to play his guitar with his teeth. he said he'd never tried that before, but i don't know if i believe it. then the other guitarist was trying it too, but they couldn't do it at all. finally colin said "i bet you're starting to wonder 'how much did i pay for that ticket after all?'" and i was too. but the madness didn't end there.. colin continued to wander around the stage, trying his hand at drums, and then accordion. everyone was switching instruments, and jumping around, and it was quite silly, but went on just a little too long. colin seemed to be taking advantage of the audience by just doing whatever he pleased, whether or not we liked it -- we were sort of stuck there, after all. so finally they went and played the rest of the song... and then what colin called the worst song he had ever written: Dracula's Daughter. proceeded by a ridiculously long story about how after he wrote it, he was crushed by his own paper, his feather pen floated to the floor, the candles were snuffed out, and god shed a single tear, leading to the creation of the nile river and the pyramids?? i'm telling you, it was just silly! HOWEVER the band quickly redeemed itself with O Valencia... morgan and i stood up to dance. then, the diamond ladies came back out to sing a cover of CRAZY ON YOU and it was AMAZING why was it so amazing i dont know. that song really shouldnt be as great as it is.. i'm gonna download a heart album, dont tell. well, we didnt even have to clap and stamp our feet for too long before colin and john, the giraffe drummer, came back out to sing the newish Raincoat Song, which i remember liking quite a bit, but you know... by this point it was pretty obvious that things were winding down. it was like a lullaby, and i thought they might end there. however, they did not. the rest of the band (and the diamonds) came back out to sing Sons and Daughters for their last song, of course. colin finally gave us a bit of audience participation and told us to keep singing out into the streets and into our beds whether or not it annoyed our roommates. however, asheville hipsters suck at audience participation, and it was the most pathetic thing ever. colin kept having to yell things like, "sing from your chest!" and blah. that was lame... but the show was still great.
johanna was sitting two rows behind us, and she needed a ride home, so i gave her one. on the way to the car, the wind blew morgan's dress all the way up, and she squealed and laughed about it all the way home. we dropped johanna off at the village, but the party there looked dead. back in dorland, we opened a big bottle of pinot noir and watched some videos before morgan and eva had to go to sleep. i took the wine and called renee, and she and i decided to traipse around campus for a bit. we went to the ballfields to find the 90s party, but julie told us she had shut it down because they didn't have a party contract... lame. then we sat outside of schafer and talked to carrie for a while. she was on a queer debutante ball/coming out stories kick, and it transferred to renee and i after she went to bed. eventually we got cold and went to my room to piss and find jackets and more wine. we wanted to smoke so we ended up at... the sunderland smoking hut. this kid elliot was there and renee knows him so we sat down for a while. he is in my film class and we got into a big discussion about breathless and just about movies in general. his friend emma, it turned out, had also been at the show, so we talked about that too. a girl came outside who had apparently had alcohol poisoning that night. her RA had called 911, she was taken away in an ambulance, and had to piss in a cup at a gas station, which she did, but escaped through the back door, and hitched a ride back to school. she had been hiding out in the smoking hut ever since but seemed to be sort of freaking out and thinking about dropping out of school. i met a girl named hannah from atlanta who wanted to know about memphis, and a kid named taylor who was responsible for the miserable movie night on thursday and was generally obnoxious, and a weird guy drinking from a flask who was talking about running over deer. there was a quiet kid who should have stuck around. my shining moments of the evening were 1) spotting a possum that no one would have seen (or been able to identify, apparently) if not for my quick eye and 2) reading (almost perfectly) "spring" by gerard manley hopkins from the ancient, damp norton anthology that i had mistaken for a bible but started drooling over when i opened it to a page of browning.
somehow i stayed out there till 5am, i dont understand at all. did i make any friends? we'll see.
today i slept and slept through all the rain, and had that miserable dream (detailed below). i have not gone outside, i have not left my room. tonight is the lord of the rings/arts and crafts party in laura miess's room. should be exciting! renee says she will help make art for my room, since my walls are so devastatingly blank. there's a superhero dance party in my dorm, so i'll probably go for a little while. i have a feeling there were a lot of things i was planning to do today. however, i have forgotten them all and i don't feel like looking at my list to find out what they were just yet. instead i will make some tea and listen to songs.


listening to: rasputina - cage in a cave

disconnected bits from this morning's dream

brock and his new friend are planning to go to france again, of course, even though he'd said he needed to stay here for a while. who would want to stay? he's glowing, so excited. distant before he's even left.
while htey talk, me and a child play games like hide under the mattress. am i babysitting, or just excluded? i feel small too, i can climb around on the furniture like a child.
everything in the town is short, a seemingly neverending straight road cluttered with one-story buildings that are brown and shacky. it's like everyone's a gypsy, nothing is safe. there's a sort of primitive feeling, anything goes.
brittany mcbride's parents open a tavern. normally i would be nervous to go into a place like this, i might not even be allowed to be there. but because i know them, i know i won't get fucked up being there.
i'm sitting with a few people, we are the only people there, we're the first ones to try out the menu. mr mcbride brings us tea but says it's a batch his wife made, and it's no good. i look at the menu for what feels like forever, trying to process it. there is a huge list of meats, including about 5 or 6 (?) fake meat options. i don't understand if it will just be a big slab of meat or if these are choices for different dishes. everyone else is ordering, and then eating, and i'm still staring at the menu. then i remember mr mcbride saying something about an apricot bake or something, "thats what you want, right?" apparently he knew i wouldnt be able to handle the menu. the food is placed in front of me, but i'm not sure if i actually eat any of it. i'm not that thrilled about the dish he's chosen for me.
apparently the room has filled up with people. i see laylee at a table across the room, with strangers. she seems strange, like she's on something, sort of helpless. she sees me too and tries to tell me something, but when i try to respond, the mcbride people glare at me and tell me, not here. i'm worried about her but i can't do anything.
still, somehow i walk around a lot during the meal... and end up not getting to eat my apricot loaf. later i'll go looking for it, but it isn't there.
i keep seeing jamila, she's always talking about.. i forget exactly. she has to do something, she knows now what she has to do. i feel like she's in some sort of bad money situation or trouble with the law, or something, and she's trying to get it sorted out. she's always leaving.
while i am walking by, over a shelf, i see a man looking at me and pointing me out to the man next to him. this continues down a line of four men, ending with mr mcbride. he is shocked but tries not to show it. they're planning to do something to me... ii'm curious what it is.
brandon collapses and is dying. i freak out. me and some other people carry him on a stretcher towards the hospital. he's really sweaty and can't open his eyes. i am remembering everything, how much i cared about him. i give him a very small tongue kiss and tell him i love him. he murmurs "i've been waiting for that." as we get closer to the hospital, he gets more and more coherent, and starts arguing with us that we can't take him htere because he's broke and he hates doctors. i say "wanna see laylee's homeopathetic doctor?" even though i know thats not the right word. brandon says he tried to got here already and it is just a dusty shack, no one there. eventually we stop arguing and put him down, he seems fine again. we don't know how to feel.
i think i run into jamila again.. she's going and i'm coming into the tavern. she says she figured it out... she just has to.. .. what?
brandon's girlfriend is dead somehow. she is propped up on display in the tavern. brandon mourns and i comfort him. everyone's upset.. it is just one more thing in this terrible world going wrong. we watch a video of her (warren makes a brief appearance,a nd i can hear brandon in the background, i guess he's shooting) in a dorm room being cute or something. they're singing abotu how they love this college (obviously crashing there) and she says something like "my arms are swirling around without anything to hold on to" or something even more obnoxious. there's a sheet over the bottom bunk and i'm jealous of the tent, though i wonder if they made it or if it was there already. this is the most realistic part of the dream..
i am wandering around through the city, hopeless, when i see from a great distance, up on a hill, tons of people in tattered clothes slowly pouring in. the "minutiae" (?), or refugees, were forcibly removed from russia and sent back here. i feel like i am hearing this as an announcement over a loudspeaker as it happens. it is a devestating event, a travesty of human rights.
i wander alone along a balcony. i contemplate jumping off but the water is too shallow, it's just a shallow pool of clear water, from here i can see fishes and the tiles on the bottom.
i feel like the mourning period for brandon's girlfriend lasts a few days... finally one day we are in the tavern and he's weeping over her and she just opens her eyes and starts laughing. she was never dead, it was just a joke. "didn't you read my blood letter?" she sticks out her tongue, and brandon scrolls through, reading the words there. he starts laughing too, and everything is okay. i am infuriated, i['m screaming at her, calling her an idiot and an imbecile and heartless. the two of them, and everyone else in the town, think i'm overreacting, being stupid. i nearly throttle the bitch. finally i just leave, feeling ridiculous.
i am wading in the shallow pool with a little kid (the same from earlier?) schools of tiny fishes keep swimming through my underwear, and i have to push them out of my pussy. i feel like htis scene has already happened somewhere earlier in this dream.
i end up alone and outcast in the post-apocalyptic little town. i don't know if i can go back to the tavern, and i don't know where my friends have gone. refugees are crowding in everywhere and i couldnt find room to breathe.

listening to: pitterpattering rain outside the window

gotta keep it kind

the peal open mic last night made me wish i was writing again, or that i could write at all.
right now i'm brewing chinese tea given to me by my new friend, qi. she's says it's green tea infused with jasmine. i followed her directions perfectly but i still feel like i've done something wrong. i probably wasn't supposed to stir it. i was probably supposed to let it steep untouched for half an hour, while singing it a lullaby. this inspires me: i would like to read a book about tea.
yesterday my legs stopped being so sore from yoga on monday, and i could flex and stretch them and start to feel muscle. i was so excited i kept kicking my legs around last night and telling morgan and renee how strong i want them to be. so strong!
i planned to finally get my passport today but apparently they're not open. i'm a fuckup.
(actually this tea is really sweet and soothing and good. maybe it will fix my cramps.)
i plan to do laundry, refill my pills, dye my hair, appeal a parking ticket, write a letter, go out to dinner with morgan, wear a mustache, and dance the night a'gay. oh yes, and write this fucking paper.

listening to: thao with the get down stay down - know better learn faster

words have nearly always hung me

my first paper of the semester was due today. i wanted to get started on it on tuesday night, but between going to ingles, eating ben's birthday cake, and studying for my astronomy test, there wasn't time. last night i sat down around 8:30 to write the paper, made lists of notes, organized them into paragraph topics, and then fucking panicked. it has become inevitable that all my papers go this way. i turned in almost every paper late last semester because i didnt start till the last minute and then i forgot how to write a paper, every time. i am considering going to the writing center for advice. i'm sure they'll say, write your outline and thesis paragraph two weeks ahead of time (my book hadnt even arrived in the mail yet) and write a paragraph every day (the most important part of the reading was the last 20 pages, which i read yesterday) and bring it to the writing center 5 days in advance. well, i wish i could do that. this keeps happening when i try to write papers and i feel like a total failure. it used to be my biggest (only) strength in school. i would gladly write a paper over giving a presentation or making a poster. where did i go wrong?
i guess i'll blame new orleans.

you dont have any self-esteem at all

yet another internet test tells me that i'm an INFP type personality... the tests are always hard for me because i start contradicting myself halfway through. but i do think that this answer makes at least a little bit of sense... maybe? i've gotten INFP every time i've taken the test over the past few years, but i did get ENFP once, back in high school during a confident phase. (if you dont believe me, it's in the archives.) i think i like that description better.
anyway, i want you to take the test and tell me what you get.

listening to: throwing muses - epiphany

things i needed to do today and didn't do:

--get a banjo
--call the health center to make plans to get my physical
--go to see an eighth-generation appalachian ballad singer at sage cafe
--go to derek's meeting aout the g20 protest
--sign up for some activist table thing that i couldnt find
--pick up my mail
--get ahead on my homework
--fix the art party
--write
--take a shower
--eat enough food
--find my TWO missing cups
i guess thats all.

how could you be so blind?

nobody sells you a banjo on labor day. i'm staring to hate all holidays. i went to yoga to unwind, but it turned out to be sort of really intense, a mind-fuck body breaker. i nearly cried a few times, but i refrained. luckily i have made this bodily function optional. mostly. now i'm trying to do homework but i can't seem to get past the fact that i'm staring at a big page full of black text. my mind is on letters, my own words, so many things i need to say. of course, i'm doing this instead.
why do people have to be such bitches? here's what happens when you're depressed on the internet. what can i possibly say? i wish someone would defend me.
also, should i drive an hour and a half to buy this beautiful handmade banjo, which i probably do not deserve?

listening to: joanna newsom - flying a kite

september 4, excerpted from my journal

today in class he treats ben like a dog. yells at him -- "Ben, Stop!" humiliating him and the rest of us. i can barely keep from sliding under the table. why couldn't he say "please" or at least treat him with respect? the classroom suddenly feels like a hierarchy, just like at work, and i'm uncomfortable with my position, wherever it is. i must be a masochist to continually be in this situation, to put myself near this man every day. i consider poison -- nothing fatal. then i consider switching crews but i doubt i could do it. then i'm thinking about my classes, which have seemed fine until now, how i know they will make me miserable because that's just the inevitability of going to school, and being surrounded by humans-- the obnoxious laughing fuckers in film class, the unbearable silence of my all-female women's history class, the droning voice and roaming eyes of my astronomy professor, and dear old bradshaw. it's over before it's begun, and i can't seem to stop the slide. i wonder how long i'll try.

my lip keeps trembling and i'm not sure why, but i'm almost ready to blame it on my new birth control pills. if i stay busy, i can almost distract myself from feeling so loveless and cold. tanya donnelly singing "it's not time for me to go" almost sounds like an omen.
almost, but not quite.

listening to: belly - stay

unfortunately

i'm glad they're happy but right now i would rather not know.
i thought he was good, i'm not surprised that i was wrong.
you are no longer someone i want to spend time on.
i don't remember why i'm still here.
no one confuses and kills me like you do.
the facial structure of certain female strangers gets me dizzy, dry-mouthed.
i was told she was dumb, that's why i'm not jealous.
so why does the dagger still stick warm in my gut?

another anxiety dream about work. went to some sort of convention with dr. b and maybe some friends, students? i get sick and cant actually attend, and i cant make it to work work the next day either. the reasons seemed genuine at the time, but now i cant remember them... later i ask beth if it's okay, if i'm in trouble. she says he's REALLY mad. i spend the rest of the dream avoiding him, running around terribly anxious and frantic.
morgan is in antoher part of the dream... i remember very little of what we talked about. she tries on huge solid color t-shirts (neon green) and she looks like a bell.

a hopeful day, but now i really feel like dying.
or maybe just living alone in a cave for all of forever.
eyes sting, chest caves with unnameable sadness.
how did i get so alone?

stand here and see this

oh god i've realized what my haircut reminds me of. and it's terrifying.

listening to: the blow - come on pauline

if the rocking chairs don't get me

last night i dreamed that i befriended a little poofball with eyes, a creature that made sure the world would continue working as it should and protected the trees, not unlike a kodama. it introduced me to the other poofball types and everything was beautiful until society created some sort of huge metal monster machines to destroy them. i tried to stop them but it was impossible.
i might have remembered more, but i woke up to the sight of two young women also waking up on my extra mattress. unexpected guests throw me off. but it was a nice day, i suppose. better than yesterday. we ate indian food buffet style and wandered around in asheville and read poems in bed. i plunged a toilet for the first time, and it was also anticlimactic.
now, all my homework is done and i'm a lonely one.

listening to: hurray for the riff raff - here it comes

my clothes dried in the sun, i laid in bed not even tired.
went to dogwood pasture for the first time, it was terribly anticlimactic. the sign said beware of an aggressive bear, but not even a rustle. a foggy night with no stars, just sitting on a concrete slab, with nothing to say to anyone.
found out that the midnight serenade from the cows was the mothers separated from their calves. i feel guilty for being soothed by those sounds.
i maintain the illusion that no one likes me, still wants me. the day is a regression, a waste.

first friday

today: two girls cheek to cheek, wooden bench in a circle of trees, everyone is walking to class but no one is around.

the bridge rattles and creaks, a metal bar come loose shakes as i walk over. the drop to the ground becomes clear, stretches out and i'm thinking about dying. you give me a soft smile that makes this okay.


tonight: "open mic two" smells like train travelers and sharp pine, the weight of sophie's shoulders shaking with laughter into my chest, so many hands keeping simultaneous time that i can barely make out chris singing and picking, morgan dances and smiles in a way i'd forgotten, i twirl a yellow flower.

i keep thinking there will be a parade, but the banjos are put away and i go home alone.

film class makes me full of myself. i might turn into a snob. was this a bad idea?
feel like making eyes with everyone... another bad idea?
every day this week i've passed the same cigarette butt on the third step on the stairs by the cowpie patio on the way to the library. i wonder why no one has bothered to pick it up, at eco-college. maybe it's fear of swine flu? but still, it's surprising, nonetheless. i realize that i haven't bothered to pick it up either, which i can justify -- if i picked it up, i might be tempted to smoke it. but that's a silly mind game, and i am just the same as everyone else.