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

if we can't now then how

when you break the thing you were trying to carry.
your fingers aren’t fast enough to clear up thinking flurries.
your words are the turds that you scrape from your belly.
you silenced the sole sound that wanted to be many

look and say look and know
it’s so hard to write within this flow
(every word corrected into a typo
every gorgeous creature stifled into camo)

this isn’t the way this isn’t the time
let yr own hand say this line
let yr own mind be its own scribe
consider how the pen will choose the usefulness of mime

stop this nonsense
i’m sorry for my shit
i’m sorry for my selfishness and ache and spin and spit
i haven’t found a way to speak this stuff i’m carrying all the time
it should and jives and jerks and buckles and flails behind a rhyme

tarot for the week (never mind it’s for the year)

seven of candles / wands

i have been really ducking lazy and even tho this week was supposed to end that and get back into GET SHIT DONE mode, i have not done a very good job at that. lots of playing games on my phone. lots of lazing around in bed all day, staying up late drinking. lots of sex. (obviously it’s not all bad!)
so today i ask the cards what medicine i need for the rest of this week to get back into high gear. here i receive SEVEN OF WANDS (candles in the numinous deck) which screams fierce, courageous, knowing and holding my own power. fucking GOALS let’s get right.

i keep telling myself i don’t have time or i’m not ready to start looking at those art life help books but i’m just making excuses. i need to get some advice from those books and also find a better visual way to keep track of my goals. THIS FEELS SO REDUNDANT. i’m tired of falling into the same loops. i’m tired of having to teach myself the same lessons. i’m tired of screens.

also there really is so much to do in the short term future that it’s hard to imagine making time for this stuff, but actually i think it’s integral to making the right choices about what’s next. i need to be looking for s place to live and figuring out more steady income, plus defining and strengthening my relationship with jerel, which also means helping them get to california and then back here with their car. so in thinking about that trip, having my own place, making more green beans, i need to be placing myself in a strong central position, not trying to accommodate for everyone and everything else before meeting my own needs. this means making time and space for art projects goddammit. this has to be #1 priority for the new year! new home, new partner, new life, new me.

last year i attempted to put my healing first, which sometimes worked and sometimes didn’t but i think i’ve made a little progress. this year i’ll prioritize art projects (personal and collaborative) and productive relationships. building a nest that supports my mental health and my work. finding gigs that will let me feel more stable while also maintaining my independence. seeking funding for art projects. finding new ways to clown. making plans for the longer term instead of living only in seasons. holding space and being a safety net for my partner in a way that supports their growth and independence. fucking commit to writing. commit to creating sacred spaces and communing with spirits. commit to magic practice as well as art practice on the damn daily. routine can be ritual!! these are not bad words!!! writing, singing, playing.

(also while writing this i kept thinking of january as technically the new year and even tho that’s far away being like well whatever but i just remembered today is SAMHAIN which is witches new year, duh!! okay i’m already on the right track. i like this card for this year. gonna GET IT!)

SO THIS WEEK to get on track, i need to freaking organize my to do list and start knocking shit off. i should try using that app again, i was having a lot of success with that. at least it’s a good idea till i come up with something better. (jerel seemed to have some ideas a while back, when they saw how frazzled i felt half the time. ask them again?) remember that getting the bullshit over-with means more time for the goods.

to do lists
organize for alice meeting
pay therapist
prepare for paris

go to sleep early

i accidentally killed the game

I tripped up on the crime of rhyme
It kills + kills me every time


if sweetly beasties come to holler
so silky sip them make you smaller
till ghoulies guide you to their pockets
and slip you fit you in their lockets

keyculator collab with jerel

NEVER THINK AGAIN. never think again.
this is the idea but this isn't the way to say it. this isn't the idea and this isn't the way to say it. stop thinking about yourself. stop wondering stop wasking waking asking basking stop stewing in the brewing.
never do the not thing. never be a nothing. never be your own thing. never dance without sing.

and ten kiss and kiss and kiss and never not. the lips that time forgot. and stop without the thought.

NEVER AGAIN NOT THAT SPOT
NEVER NOT NEVER NOT NEVER NOT NEVER NOT

you can't know if you didn't try
so shove it up yr whiny eye

i'll never try until i die
don't make me use this ugly guy

you couldn't scale but half the sky
so set yr pancake on some pie

won't you hear my plaintive cry
upon this pie i'm screaming "why?!"

you wish you did, you wish you don't
know whether you blew crumbs of hope
there's nothing you forgot to bother
spilled the piss across the altar

from my thoughts my fingers pry
a sentence structure oh so sly
so i give a heaving sigh
and rest this back upon your thigh

alas you've changed the rhyming scheme
puncturing my clung-to dreams
i'll meet you hither, thither, there
give this process greater care

a sickened sail, a drunken drum
so suck the scum right from yr thumb

a broken trail, a path availed
a drunken maw what burps and hums
sits in sorrow; blackened lungs
an unset sail has never failed

you already told me you busted the game
what would you like to do now
the only thing i trusted was pain
i'd like to do better but how

you broke your foot you rolled the bone
there's nowhere left once you've gone home

you stick the stuck you plunked the plank
the ceiling's nothing what's not sank

` to drip a drop, to think a thought
i carry all i've not forgot

florida party dream

rachel smith's birthday party at her house. it's a lot of people, feels like a lot of people more mature than our crew. then again are any of the other nola folks here or is it just transplants from my memphis group that i'm finding here?
dexter, rachel's son i've never met, probably 4 or 5 here although he's gotta be almost 10 by now, removes his pants and underwear and runs away from me giggling. i think it's pretty funny too but the adults are generally aghast that i haven't been able to keep him under control. so now i'm chasing him around with the pants in my hand, trying to coax him to put them back on and feeling generally incompetent.

somehow i end up in the bed in my pajamas? was it a sleepover? the room doesn't really feel like rachel's room although i guess it's supposed to be. the mattress is on the floor along the back wall, and i can see out to the backyard through the windows when i turn around. everybody is out there having a good time, partying, pool splashin. i realize i'm wearing my pajamas (blue firefly shirt) so i look for my bag to put on some real clothes and join the festivities. all i can find is some real dumb shorts i don't like and my floral crop top i've only worn once. i don't want to put it on. do i? or maybe i just go out there in my pajamas and people judge me okay so what. or maybe i'm just distracted by talking to people out there and i forget that's the problem. lots of pals here, lauren dunn, kat, brett, morgan, hunter daniel?? definitely others but i can't remember specifics. i think mallory is here too.
at some point i remember that rachel recently broke up with another boyfriend who was a narcissistic addict, another mean drunk. i want to find a time to commiserate with her about that, but i don't know when i'll be able to, with all these people around. i've barely spoken to her.
i need to get in the pool with everybody else, go back to digging through my bag looking for my swimsuit. it's not there, i probably didn't even pack it, but i'm poking around through piles of stuff on the floor and the desk and now that i think about it, it kind of has the quality of one of the video games i played with jerel this week-- moving through the actions of searching in order to go to the next scene. i'm also exhausted somehow. (by now i've been snoozing my alarm clock and/or getting woken up by dogs and then falling back asleep. in real life i know i need to get up because it's getting really late but i guess i'm pretty tired and there's also this sense of things i need to finish in the dreamworld.)
so in the dream i fall asleep on the bed again. are there dreams within the dream? there must be.
i remember i'm standing over a desk looking through some papers and i see an infographic about making art and suggestions for process. one header says something like "THE TALISMAN" but maybe not that, it has a picture of a pink clock. it's talking about the important of the initial inspiring words - but actually it seems to be about more than words - it's about the moment that you receive inspiration for a project, or the moment that something clicks, and having a physical object or image that recalls that moment. keep it with you or keep it in your work space to hold onto the source of the feeling. of course this is sounding very obvious typing it down, but it felt very useful in the dream. especially since i don't have a damn process and it's so hard to say "artist" and i didn't learn any of these tricks.
at some point rachel is standing over me on teh bed, maybe this is even a nightmare within the dream because she's distant and seems irritated with me, but rightly so considering that i'm sleeping through her birthday party. her green eyes are piercing, so vivid, her hair is currently dyed a deep auburn and her hair is long and wavy at her shoulders. she looks otherwise just the same, same rachel i loved so long ago. i guess everything is pretty fuzzy but her eyes and hair are nothing but clear, in the sharpest focus. i remember i remember.
my body is so exhausted but i have to get up. i look out and i think hunter daniel is gonna play some drums or someone is performing music in front of the pool. it's getting a little darker out now. maybe i fell asleep again. i look up and people are singing karaoke. i can't miss this! I've gotta sing!!! finally i drag myself up, now it's as if the wall has melted away and people can talk to me in the bed from the yard, i can enter and exit this way. brett sees me sit up and calls, "alanna i need your help judging this karaoke contest! come over here!" although obviously i've missed all the performances so it makes no sense for me to judge, which i think i realize. i dip down again, exhausted, and when i sit back up, brett is awarding morgan and two other friends (rex?? kat? i don't remember but they're good buds) who are dressed up as makeshift crystal gems with rainbow fabric skirts and sashes. felt or construction paper hair. they're overjoyed to be winning and i can't believe i'm missing this. how does it keep happening?
as i'm walking out, morgan is coming in, she says that so and so loaned her this bathing suit and she's done with the pool (at some point before, brett has said "Everyone's done with the pool" ???) and i can wear this loaner suit. it's hideous, tan masquerading as gold, and maybe with sequins. it's actually familiar, i think i've worn it last time i was here (but i never could have been here) and i hesitate because of how it looks (so vain in this dream!) but put it on anyway. finally i walk to get in the pool but find it mostly full, and although it turns out there's a second pool (duh) a few feet away from teh first one, no one is know is here. i am trying to participate but seeing my friends all having fun just beyond reach. i try to make small talk with these new people but i feel awkward and stiff. standing in the corner of the pool facing the other pool - see a little tiny brown spider (but a kind of electric blue outline?) skip across teh water into our circle, very fast. we all overreact, and try to splash it away from us. it lands a few feet away, on top of what i quickly realize is another spider just like this one-- only it's 10 times as big. monstrous!! i look around the pool and it dawns on me that there are critters everywhere. little squat brown toads that could've been rocks, sitting neatly on top of the water. wait that oen's not on the water, it's on top of a fucking tiny ALLIGATOR. well, it's florida after all! and i guess we are partying in the swamp!

((this seems like a good image to hang onto for space submarine commander, although saying it out loud to jerel, they said bog witch. good point. and funny that the dream told me to find the image to hang onto-- i think that's probably accurate for both SSC and bog witch. i fucking wish i had a fucking WORK SPACE where i could hang some images on the wall and have a place to freakin think and dream and work. help.))

inarticulate after the argument (and probably during too)

def plan on chain smoking
join if you'd like
this fucking SUCKS

a cigarette first one after a long while never tastes good like i think it should. it just tastes like ashes. i know this. i know this. what do i do. it is the most self sabotage. is it subconsciously because of the doctor appointment today and worry about my cervix and the lesions there and the cancer fear