aha

2019 was my year in the middle. the middle room of the sad house. between court and jerel. between kat and brett. desperate to connect people with each other, resulting in having issues connecting with anyone myself.

the foster cat peed on my purple shoes, so now they're garbage. they were falling apart, holes in the soles, anyway, so we can't be too sad about that, other than as much as we are always sad about creating garbage.

Should be a real free write BUT

Can you put some more stuff in my cup from the box in the kitchen

Your hand asleep outstretched asking
Can someone hold me

keyculator - lines from an unknown time (2019 or 2020)

ha, so much for
the tolerant left
you check
your balance
the noose at your neck
a dinner no chef
ingredients
in greedy paws
lip service to laws
abundance of wealth
show and don't tell
do what you do well
buy now, wait, yes, don't sell
one day til rome fell
when one knee knelt
lesson learned, cracked belt
pride in pain
just a sprain but leaves welts
generations have felt
bruised skin shed
made pelts
worn while raw
all felt
bad hand dealt

street talk

yesterday i wore my pockets out and felt like somebody who could be friends with anybody. like couldn't i be the least intimidating person imaginable? if i said hi to a stranger, it would be impossible for them to be afraid of me! red plaid jumper, purple shoes, fat potato on a leash. visionary! but also this face mask, homemade and grey, which oddly enough sets me apart. have i seen even one other today? this week? oh yes, the old guy at the gas station yesterday. and a young hipster who saw me and the old dude and put his on, standing outside his car, before walking inside. but dozens of families out on walks, mail carriers, bikers, cops -- not a one. what gives? do you believe yourselves immune to contagion? or even scarier, do you believe you don't exhale or that you won't breathe yr nonsense onto others?
it's hard to wear the mask, i know. no one knows whether to believe, without a friendly smile. and coming from someone who wants to inject my nonsense into everything, i am at a loss.
but what about this potato? can't he do enough smiling for both of us?
nah, i'm over it. i don't even wanna be outside no more, he says. you dog, are my one job, and if you dont even wanna be outside no more, i'll never see the sun again and i certainly won't be receiving any green beans. especially if tennessee is truly foolishly leaping into reopening, then i aint gonna get state green beans either. and then what, buddy? then we're outta luck i guess. take me home. take me home. take me home. i want to be alone. i want air conditioning and four walls and ceiling and the scent of a meal i missed. i want to retreat to my cool dark cave, no legs or sun, a slug. a nighttime bug. glisten mud and silver silt, sing in my chair to no one and nothing. how comfy the hole starts to feel. until you don't even even realize you're at the bottom of a well and there's no way out and the sun is getting dimmer and you can't remember any other way to be.
but what about this somebody-who-can-be-friends-with-anybody business? who are they? and what about when masks were fun and felt like freedom not restraint?
i've lost the way. i'm thinking too much. i'm thinking about the finished product. i'm thinking of a product. it was just supposed to be ideas and then my head got big and thinking i could just write down a perfection without having to edit. listen YOU ARE GONNA HAVE TO LEARN TO EDIT. or else we're never gonna get anywhere. you know?? this is where we always get stuck. we get bORED with our own ideas and don't want to take the time. we convince ourselves, this is drivel and doesn't matter to anyone. so go and hit your cymbal and make something be done for once. please. ah. stop complaining. you haven't eaten in hours. you drank too much caffeine. like you do, like you always do. how long does it take to realize that patterns have become currently permanent? that they aren't just an "oh this is right now" blur, they're a "this has been the same every day for years" sort of thing.
the trouble is wanting to make something great and that is truly stifling. the trouble is judging so hard all the time, the thought "i could write something better" and then not being able to. IT'S IN THERE THOUGH.... isn't it? why do you even think that? (because sometimes you burn and it's there and the words will find you. sometimes you have written something right. or at least that has the satisfaction of rhythmic traction and ripples in all the right ways. the unnamable rhythms that drive you when you get going, when yr hot heat and flames.)
this got all lost and that is okay. maybe you should take a break and eat something. some soup, maybe.

Finally arrived home with my smokes 2am and all I want to do now is sing and/or disappear but now I'm smoking and I opened another beer. Sounds of a fire pit jingle crackle across the street and cars still swishing trees swaying bugs calling laughter from the other side of the duplex and you'd never know it's pandemic status if you were dropped into this scene. It's good to be outside although you wish you had grass instead of gas but no you really wish you had that wildflower garden promised by the seed packet if onlu the birds hadn't eaten half of it and the landlord hadnt mowed down the rest. You wish it could be time to rest but 
How ?
The strange interchange at the gas station - the person working has to unlock and lock the door as each person comes in. "I don't know where she went" my fellow late night drifter calls to me across the parking lot. "Kevin" comes back to let us in. All I want is smokes. The credit card machine fails us and I wait patiently, the only one of us in a mask, as Kevin locks and unlocks, restarts the card reader, mumbles to me about their night. Locked wm in the beer cave too. Patron #3 pays for my smokes, despite my protests, and Kevin says I'm lucky. And I am.

i am supposed to write the other thing now. i was gonna write this little essay about CARAVAN STORIES. what was my point and what was the point i missed when i wrote about it before? should i reread what i wrote or should i just try to remember? first lets try to remember.


oh yes you're missing the part that makes it universal. you wrote about how you got entrenched all in the thing. you could maybe do some more with the metaphor of "temporary resistance." but you never got to the closing. the closing can be hard. but you could do it if you kept at it. i think so. but drunk?? can i? what can i do or even pretend to do. what is this thing i keep doing.

TEMPORARY RESISTANCE TO ABNORMAL STATE.

Debris needs me to defeat 15 Rattie. Young Elf A (now so nameless?) needs me to defend them in a battle against their overbearing father, while Child wants me to pick up that good stuffrom the bar in Ork territory (don't worry, Child is an adult dwarf).

what is the point i'm trying to make. this whole thing is absurd. comical. especially when they talk about the fucking plague in the story of the game. RATTA TATTA DEBRISIUS. not really. scubby duddy osis.

i don't even care how can i make myself care.

too hot

hey ya fuck
remmeber how you are always imagining how yr gonna write to all yr fave bands n shit and tell them thank the fucking gods for you and please keep doing it and how much you just wanna tell em and maybe also they need to hear it? why aint you just doin that. why you starin at pictures or some nonsense. what are we doing right now/1 cmon. YES i know it's hot, i'ts too darn hot ot do anything but oh well.
fuk i want a smkey so bad right now. i want a porch. i want to invite my friend to sit on the porch with me. there's no porch and there's no friends aka there's no in-person friends allowed. all loud. help help help.
anyway yr phone is dead and there's nothing for you outside. it ain't really gonna be less hot, you know? you'll just be pissed.
i wish i didn't still want a smoke.
maybe try writing. let's try writing that other mess. haha okay.

shower song

you don't mow clover
you don't know no bird


i forgot the other words. but it was something about goddammit i saw this spider and i was so happy about it but i accidentally caught it on my hands so i tried to save it but in my saving i'm certain i killed it, fuck me. so bad so dead.

truths

Night time is fake

No one will find your shoe box if you never wear the shoes

t-shirt idea

Medias are garbages !

(Yeah but it's true)

song a day song

last year i lost my xylophone
i left it at the church
things have gone from bad to good
from good to bad to worse
i wanted more than a capella songs
i have nothing to play
i wanted more than pitching lilting talk
to share on song a day

mood swings like woah

Good day at work. Like I was in a really really good mood tge last hour or two. Now mad and sad and bad thinking about court telling us she wants to move out and having to deal with that on top of a million other things. I'm fucking pissed. And overwhelmed. And just over it all. Time to hide under the covers.

future dreams

looking into mfa stuff again/finally. i was thinking -- i could go to U of M for free and get an MFA and damn wouldn't that be rad. several things sound cool, of course. classes always look fun from the outside -- creative writing. lit. anything art related, really. but also, what's the thing that's kept me from going back to school all this time?? A PLAN for afterwards. i don't want to be lost at sea again after getting a degree. (but you're already lost at sea. how could it get worse?) well i guess i don't know. BUT i think even a little nut of a plan is better than nuthing.

so what i had thought was -- MFA in theatre, with concentration in Directing. that's 3 years. meanwhile, get certified through the North American Drama Therapy Association so i could get a licensed drama therapist when i get done with school. and then????

i like to imagine myself teaching pochinko someday. or combining the pochinko work with other stuff to make it more therapeutic.... somehow. but honestly this is the big blank spot right now. i started getting distracted looking at other programs -- would Expressive Arts Therapy be better/more inclusive than just Drama therapy??? or does it really matter, if i'm just gonna be making up my own weird shit anyways? do i need a Creative Arts Therapy degree?? or even counseling? UGH i dont fucking want to study that. i ALREADY KNOW how to tap into something intuitive that isn't something that can be taught.

or why do i feel like i even need to bring the therapist certification into it? (i mean that would be pretty cool. because i've wanted to do that for forever and been irritated that i have to subscribe to a weird fucking broken system in order to provide that service to people. that's a bunch of bullshit. so yeah, fuck that, i'm obviously not going to study counseling, but maybe the cert actually is cool.) ON THE OTHER HAND what happened to the idea of studying performance itself? i guess a while ago i had been thinking, it sure would be bullshit for me to become a teacher (therapist??) without knowing more about wtf i am talking about. those ideas: Dell'Arte, Manitoba clown farm, Pigiron, Emerge NYC.... others? more physical theatre schools? clowning programs? (who am i kidding, i am a slug who can't move my body at all these days.)

so yes the web gets bigger and i get mixed up again. what do i want it to look like AFTER the training, whatever that is? yes i want to perform again/ever. that's exciting to me. but it isn't the whole picture. the bigger picture includes workshops, healing arts, spirituality. a studio or a school or something - a COMMUNITY. i think i want some kind of credentials just to make myself seem (and feel) more real, and be able to ask for money for my services without feeling like a total tool. also the thing about school would be a great opportunity for learning and REFOCUSING on what i value about all this stuff and oh my gosh it would just be so fun. now that i'm thinking about it, i do like the idea of doing drama rather than "expressive arts" because it would be fucking rad to feel even vaguely like an expert in something. (and also, i looked at one lady's website and just remembered with a crushing roar how squishy and boring a lot of this shit probably is. painting your feelings and shit. i mean, yeah it's good to do that, but it's not rad enough for me. those white ladies can teach that shit. i don't want to study with them!!!! sorry!!!!)

well it seems like the big answer here is that i want TO WORK FOR MYSELF. either having a business/school/collective whatever.... or working by contract for organizations or whatnot. does that make sense? or i could keep hanging around in academia..... it would be fucking awesome to work on research projects or books or something. i want to write a fucking book. i want to write a show. i don't want to be a professor, i don't think. i am imagining public education... or yeah, how does the therapy thing come into it? i think that's the part that feels exciting and gives the potential for experimentation. but i should probably learn more about what the fuck it actually means. will i be more boxed in than i am currently imagining? is there someone certified in memphis that i could talk to?

i just went on a long side quest trying to find people here (v---- m----, founder of pback memphis, duh) and then going down a "play therapy" wormhole and da da da. that stuff always rings a bell for me with the name - oh! play therapy! expressive arts therapy! yes! but then, as with most things in the world, it doesn't look like what i think it sounds like.... maybe that's the thing. maybe i gotta make MY OWN TECHNIQUE. and maybe that means - do the basic degree and keep it loose. maybe i'm thinking too far ahead.

except that the whole point of writing all this was to try to visualize what it would look like and what i do want to see in my future where i'm a badass theatre therapy person.
--to present another way to be, as me, to show how to be a different kind of body
--to bring people under the table, to create another world together
--learn how to be fully present in a moment and let my body ride the wave
--performing as roadkill ghost

random ideas i've had in the past that i should be remembering and compiling:
--clown class for queer/trans people
--clowning/play to process trauma -- the positive kind of dissociation, not "psychodrama"


i don't even know. it feel so incomplete. it feels so far away, these random notes from years ago now. ugh i'm so off track. maybe that's all i need to worry about right now-- getting back on track and what does that look like? if i get to reinvent myself, who do i want to be?

gotta talk to john at hte clown farm.
gotta at least do this mfa app????????? figure out deadlines.
RECOMMENDATIONS.
i should probably just call holly l.....
getting on track?! i don't know. something. just do SOMETHING.

script for SSC pep talk video

Hello, my darling cast mates and collaborators! It's the BIG DAY! We are finally going into the studio, almost exactly one year after winning the Indie Memphis film grant. WOW.
Y'all have been working hard and getting ready for this for months and now it's time to let loose and HAVE FUN! We know these songs so well, they're fucking so weird and good, and all we have to do is get into the studio and have a good time playing together.

Together, we've created 6 brilliant and hilarious songs -- the kind of songs that could never have been concocted by one or two people alone. This work is the process of collaboration -- with 8 lyricists, 7 music writers, and 17 performers, the final product could never be replicated by another group of people. This is entirely unique to us!! And all you have to do now is put YOURSELF into the music, perform it with your whole mind and body, and HAVE FUN!

What we are doing is an amazing and ridiclous thing. We are telling an important story about abortion that also features a talking horse, a lactacting space alien, and a food fight where the food is human organs.
Let's tell this story where abortion is a simple medical procedure and let's show everybody how much fun we had doing it. What we are doing is rewriting the narrative -- creating art to induce a cultural shift and change the way people think about reproductive rights. Our joy and our laughter restores our power, and it removes the power from the narrative that abortion is taboo, is sinful or evil.

With all the terrible shit going on in the world right now, it's so important for us to be able to access JOY, and for me, that looks like play and music and making stuff with my friends.
And joy isn't frivioulous! It's vital!! It can be radical!!

Because above all else, I want our audience to SEE and HEAR us having fun and enjoying ourselves when they watch this movie. When we're having fun and connecting with each other, we can connect with our audiences too.

So. This conversation is important. Laughter is important. The movie we make doesn't need to be perfect to achieve its goals. This weekend, I want everyone to experience feeling powerful and ridiculous at the same time! I want everyone to have fun and go all the way! We are making magic together! Y'all are already killing it and you're gonna fucking SLAY this weekend! I'm so fucking proud of everyone and so excited to make our dreams into realities.
I LOVE YOU ALL. THIS IS GONNA BE AWESOME! SEE YOU SOON!

failed eulogy

mary burns passed away. brett called me and told me yesterday morning. i've been having a lot of thoughts and feelings about it - stronger yesterday and i relaly wanted to write them down - but i didn't have time between gigs and movie work and actually relaxing with morgan and kat for a bit.
so i am trying to wirte today.
part of me wants to share whatever this is going to be.... but that already puts a lot of pressure on it. so i am just writing tha down to get teh idea out of my head (hopefully) and let that part of my brain shut up so that i can just feel what i'm feeling and try to say it. (but i did kind of have an idea for a frame with a title, so i'll try starting from there and see how that goes.)

WHEN YOU'RE TOO BROKE FOR THERAPY

when you're too broke to afford therapy, you instead imagine what a therapist MIGHT say to you, should you actually have one.
at least, this is something i sometimes do.
at least, this is something i am doing right now because i am at a loss for words and i'm having trouble feeling through this. (())
feeling lost for words
feeling loss
mary burns has died. how do we make any sense of this?

when you're too broke for therapy, you seek community. you seek comfort and compassion.

i remember open mics at java cabana as my first exposure to real live poetry, to new political ideas, and to a small arts community i didn't know existed. those thursday nights were my initiation - that shared microphone

keyculator bodytalk notes

9/15/19 it's probably around 2pm or so

okay i had to stop and replace the AA batteries. now here i am. and i'm hungry haha. but i wanted to write a copule quick notes about the energy/body work i did with court the last couple days.
today kat came over and court led her, jerel, and me in a visualization about bring our power back to ourselves and then we did some power moves! felt great.
the visualizations were a real trip. i am not accustomed to such long meditation (or any meditation). i think it must've been an hour long?!? i wish i could've been more focused but i wasn't so far away that i didn't get some cool images and revelatory thoughts.
started with grounding - image suggestion was a cord stretching from the base of our spine through the floor through the dirt through the layers of the earth all the way to the magma at the center. i always have hard time with the cord image. this time i thought of a root system, growing wider and deeper at the same time. that was powerful. and the light entering through our crown - imagining a connection to the sun and its heat worked tihs time.
safety color was not easy either but i settled on the color of my parents' bedroom - a cool pale blue/green. and it surrounds me like a bubble but the bubblue is almost spiky/sparkly, shining, stretching. my safe place! sent away other people's energies. first doing donuts in a truck, in a widening circle. sweeping out clouds of dust/smoke and leaves. a kiss for jerel and a twirl and i send them spinning to their own bubble, where they land in a star-shaped power pose, smiling and shining. i give kat a hug and the same spin, she lands empowered in her own bubble.
now we bring our power, our energy, back to ourselves. it's glittering golden light flowing from all directions and i'm soaking it up. then i'm crouched covering my legs then my whole body in dirt, rubbing dirt into my skin to be replenished. and then water, soaking it in and feeling me. i feel scales on my skin, blue/purple iridsecent. my hair is shaved on two sides and i have elf style hair. then i'm a dragon. serpentine. shining, smiling, glittering, glowing.
even though i was drifting off for a lot of it, it was a great exercise! need to do more work on solar plexus, it sounds ilke - the center of my will and decision making. have to gain confidence in this area. need to start talking to MYSELF or writing things down when i am unsure, rather than immediately dumping on someone else.

yesterday i did my first body talk session with court and it was great! intense and healing. definitely felt like just dipping a toe in to a very big area of work. reminded me how blocked and disconnected i feel from my body, for all number of reasons. dysphoria stuff. depression stuff. anxiety stuff. trauma stuff. ALL KINDS OF reasons why i am far from my self mentally and also physically.
she told me to just relax and i could close my eyes if i wanted and just lay there and she would be touching my shoulder and doing some muscle testing on my left wrist. then she did some tapping on my head, my heart, and my stomach. she got messages from my thyroid and my heart. that there was a wall of fluid around my heart, like a protective coating. i can't remember what she said it's called. then she asked me to say out loud "i allow my spirit to surface" (i think) until i felt "comfortable" saying it, while she was tapping those places again. that was really tough. by now in the session, i felt light-headed and kind of emptied. it's like jerel said, it felt like a gem fusion or something. like i was giving all this mental energy away, to her, or she was channeling it elsewhere, or something. but there was a new connection, a new space where i could just float and be held and feel safe and not have to worry about anything being right or wrong or whatever. so i feel like i was pretty deep in it when she asked me to say that phrase. and i said it once and it was really hard. my throat started to close and i felt like crying. do i allow this? is it safe to allow my spirit to surface? (the night before i had posted my patreon interest ask on facebook, so was already feeling very vulnerable about expressing myself and letting my spirit show and being exposed and just wanting to let it all FLY OUT OF ME at the same time. to be ALLOWED to be my true self and my spirit and creative. this was a big big big feeling.) so i felt like i might cry. my chest tightened and my throat closed and tears pricked at my eyes. i felt like i was riding a wave, not unlike what i felt during my abortion - waves of ridiing over it and waves of being stuck in the feeling. moments that were almost euphoric and moments that felt like i was drowning in that one feeling, gettig more light headed, and feeling hot, almost feverish and shivery. but i kept trying to say it and i said it quite a few times. but did it ever feel comfortable? i don't know. it was tough. definitely felt like something was getting worked through, though, and court said teh same thing after teh session. after that i think she did te muscle testing thing again and i kept floating. trance like for sure. i was so relaxed/high by now, i was a little worried i was gonna fall asleep. and i was surprised when she asked me to do something particpatory now. i had to fill in the blank on "my sexuality is determined by ___" and my first thought was "heart" which felt stupid to say, since she was literally just talking about my heart, so that's what was in my mind... i sort of started searching for a better answer but she said just whatever comes intuitively. so i said that. she did some more tapping i think? or the writst thing. i dont' know. whatever following the protocol. oh i htink she tapped on me and i said the phrase.
and then said it was actually "my sexuality is determined by my heart's wall." meaning that protective layer that came up earlier. and so she said that while she tapped on me again and what immediatley came to my mind was the phrase changed to "my sexuality is GUARDED by my heart's wall." which later she said, sounded like progress / something moving.
also felt interesting taht my bod apparently wanted to talk about sex, after shit with chris had come up with the night before and i went to bed feeling awful. and then jerel and i had sex in the morning before the body talk session (which was after a shower) and i kind of wondered if court had heard us or knew what was going on and had some kind of expectation or association of sex goign into it. but it makes sense that that's where my bod was. and it got me thinking again about wanting to open up more with jerel somehow. like what is the next level of intimacy? because i feel like with sex something is stuck for me, or it's just been a plateau for a while. i've been talking about wanting to get toys and stuff to do different kinds of play, but i htink it's more than that. i want to make it magic. maybe need to try some breathing or tantric stuff... want it to feel more transformational or transcendent. more trans ahah.
anyway i felt really relaxed and floaty afterwards. kind of exhausted but kind of refreshed. didn't want to leave the house but i'm glad we went ot cooper young festival. it was like jerel said - scooped out. uber relaxed. grounded. amazing!```````````````q1"


now i'm really hungry and it's 3:45 and i can't remember what else i wanted to write. so i hope that i got it down mostly.
going forward, i am gonna try to visualize better, especially movie related stuff that is making me anxious. i'm gonna try writing or talking to myself before i dump my anxieties/questions onto other people. power poses every day! i would also really like to try doing yoga every day again. i feel weak and distant from my bod and i don't like it. also gonna do another body talk sesssion in 3 weeks! alright!

sad ask drafts

this morning after pages i was feeling some momentum to get some stuff done... SSC stuff in that moment, but with the intention of writing later and maybe even doing this fundraising ask, or a sideways one, or something. jerel came in and asked, did i see that the class was full. no. what? they just checked the website, or i guess i had left the tab open on their laptop. beth maiden's alternative tarot course is officially full. i was planning to email her today, to at least explain my situation and see if she could give me a discount or set up a payment plan or SOMETHING. but i waited too long. hesitated. let everyone else's voices get in my fucking head. i hate this. so of course i immediately turned all grumpy. it does'nt help that i'm bleeding right now. that was about 2 or 3 hours ago, now, and i'm still grumpy. but i felt determined to keep my plan to write instead of sinking into some video game wormhole or something. i will have time for that tonight, because i've already decided i'm not going anywhere.
i was supposed to be taking a break from SSC for a couple days, but i couldn't do it. i don't feel that i'm allowed to do it. i remembered we have a meeting scheduled for monday, and unless i explicilty ask people to come prepared, they won't be. to ask them to come prepared means organizing music files and making sure all the lyrics are easy to find and read and writing a nice but firm email and.... anyway it takes a while. nothing is simple.
now i'm trying to "relax" with dr pepper and indie pop in the living room, keyculating away. damn i love this thing. should've written more songs on here. maybe can still write some dialogue on it.
i'm sad about the movie. i just wanted a break after the big writing meetings on sunday and monday. but then had to finish that grant on tuesday and wednesday. did i get a break yesterday? perhaps! ....nah i was listening ot the "fast travel" demo and considering what kind of feedback i should give to kat, if any. she doesn't have any specific questions so, i'm wondering if i should just let it be, although there's plenty of feedback i COULD give. mainly, that she's added so many breakdowns that it doesn't even feel like a patter song anymore. i feel like she's getting carried away with all these songs, making them fun for herself (which is good) but forgetting how they are suppoed to function in the story and on screen. and this one is now five minutes long! holy shit that's too long!
i just want to get this damn movie out of my head for two seconds without having to stuff another story in there. can i not be in my own mind????
what was i even wanting to say. i don't know. i had been thinking about writing a facebook post but now it feels really emo. maybe i'll try. what do i even want to say?

artist friends, how do you do it? how do you stay motivated and continue to make work in this hell world, how do you find the time and the energy and the money?
i pick up shit "for a living." i sell my labor to the medical school and to pet parents. i work unpaid 30 hours a week as director/producer of a short film. i cannot ask the rest of the crew to be this dedicated. THIS IS NOT WHAT I WANTED TO SAY.
i guess what i had wanted to say was a roundabout way of asking for money. ohyeah.

so i recently had to turn down the opportunity to take a course i was really exicted about because of a lack of time and funds. even if i could have paid for the course itself, i don't feel like i would've had the time/energy to commit to it, between my various gigs and the unpaid (constant, ocassionally fun) work i do making SPACE SUBMARINE COMMANDER.
between my various jobs, paid and unpaid.
i'm frustrated and i don't know how to fix this. i don't even want ot talk to facebook. i miss the old internet.

i miss my blog and the old internet. i just don't feel like i can share the same way on facebook. writing on here feels like trying to tell secrets through a megaphone in a crowded cafeteria lit by 100000 fluorescent lights and i'm sick of it! i'm sick of a lot of things. one of those things is feeling like i'm working all the time and still broke and that much of that work goes unseen. so taking all that into consideration, i'm considering starting a patreon. my intention is to use it kind of like my old blog, with rambly writing and links to Good Art and Music, with the addition of updates about SPACE SUBMAIRNE COMMANDER, tarot and other witchy stuff, and hopefully some clown/performance sketches. heck, i'm even thinking of restarting my penpal project! The Art Party could come be reborn!!!
I DONT KNOW i want to do it all, yall. and i have been struggling to figure out HOW and WHERE and all that. i wonder if patreon would be a good space for all these things to come together. if i did such a thing, would anyone be interested in subscribing? thinking of starting at $1 and going up to $20 or something. what kind of posts would you be most excited to see?

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