Tuesday, December 19, 2006

It's touching: Isn't it/ Arn't they?

Not even hockey could calm me down tonight. I'm raging until Thursday. That being the day I collapse in a wealth of success with a bunch of seraphim holding my head. Finals, driving in NYC with a bunch of tourists, walking around a bunch of gawkers...Subway delays, shopping at Costco- yikes. The other day I worked about seven hours and I wound up writing a good portion of my payp there.
I can't get my mane under control.
The other day I sprawled out on a fouton in a cold basement and let a 4 year old play with my earrings for about five minutes.

Things are quite up in the air right now. The only thing thats certain is the tuition bill I just payed and that I wear pretty much the same thing every day. I've been wearing these black van slip ons for a while now and it didnt matter much but now that its not 50 degrees anymore my toes numb with the understanding that I will eventually shove them under blankets.

To top it all off I feel guilty about having material possessions, feel overwhelmed by my choice of solitude, and grateful to my cousin, who, despite being about twenty some odd years older than me, has been pretty badabing about odd needs concerning optics.

I feel really positive about painting lately. I feel good about the History Channel and theburg.tv which I haven't admitted to watching to anyone except one friend of mine who now watches it as well. "WT-Fuck, yaknow?"
Recent inquiries:
"Can you recommend an exhibit thats open right now"
"Can you come and get drunk with me"
"Can you meet me downtown"
"Can you send me those pictures"

Recent Responses:
"Let me check New York magazine- guilty pause- OK I have it"
"I can't"
[No response, let the Voicemail get it]
[No response, sent the pictures]

See Y'all next year. I don't have any lists except to-do's. Email me if you want a To-Do list.
*Note- To do list will be hard to check off if you are not here.

Saturday, December 02, 2006

november round-up.


old friends meet up. seldom occassions of r.k. smiling. one of these people i kicked in the face after he slapped me.


i never thought i had a.d.d.
i was tested once but used devices such as telephone keypads and patterns in surrounding paintings to aid in short term memory. this was such a habit, that it screwed me. i'll never know what the results of that test would be.
that was the year i fell in love for the first time
[oh -and so hard. i was actually crippled in pain. when i experienced the repeated absence rot- i tried to recall that first hurt and equate the two. i just got sicker. i was in love so bad my body almost fell apart. now i keep it together by using my good old back up plans. poor eye contact and all those other "cosmo donts" they work! ---if your aim is the "don't"]
that year i was scattered. i kissed people i hated and had hero-worship complexes. its horrible to admit- but every single person i ever thought was worth it- wanted as a friend or to have an intimate moment with- i got- i mean- i "WON"
you can imagine how this is catching up with me now.

i am inspired by the wrong things.
here is a quick list of items that would surely get me bound to the whipping post by literary -laureates-evils-nobels- and colleagues:
-shoe designs.
-watching the tactics employed by people who have nothing to hold on to on the subway.
-the average time the mail comes on a saturday.
-writing over reviews in decibel magazine. general comments and snide remarks that no one will see. in red ink. for example- the converge "no heroes" album. "yeah right" or for some bands: "not actually where their scene was initially based"
-writing over poems in poetry books and literary journals
-the way old women dress [perhaps to blame for my old job in the fashion industry]
-irrational hatred of: neckface, boys with asymmetrical haircuts and people who are flakier than i.
-how long it takes me to get my coffee, the amount of sugar in it, HOW LONG IT TAKES ME TO DRINK IT. [where i will procure it: which burrough- westchester, the bronx, manhattan, did i remember my club card]
-soup. sweet potato soup.
-how i would move to albQ, NM if i could. or the desert.
-sometimes i want to hug strangers on the subway: NOTE: most dangerous inspiration. especially when people are pubically crying.
-bed [un]make-ups.
-many many more for future installments.

here are a few things people arnt prepared for upon meeting me:
i will openly insult you to see if you can take it. a quick ribbing. nothing terrible. if im tipsed, it will be a little more insulting. i dont lose my judgement innebriated. men have made this mistake. i've gotten into confrontations. most of the time i'll walk away but there might be an offshoot that i'll be ready to throwdown. unispired drinking. its not romantic. no one cares if you get high or drink. people who usually care are usually not very inspired themselves and are on that -yes- journey.
i'll most likely chose music over friendship unless the friendship has nothing to do with music. i'll compromise in relationships. i am a more positive person than those who claim to be but lead miserable unfulfilling lives.
ALRIGHT.

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

pathos

co-morbid.

sat there just pulling on my fingers to loosen
the circulation
plotting my mouth into a fixed brick-
a psych textbook from the 60s gritted in my mitts.
actual painful swallowing. why are they ignoring everything?
notation in pencil in the margins. i love her handwriting. LOOK AT THAT QUASI R.
why are there more statistics on rats then in chem books?
i was born in the year of the rat;
i've returned, [to] monkeys.
swish swish.
today my back hurt. my pants stretch weird,
but im trying not to care. i dont want to wash them. i sleep in them sometimes when i fling myself into the covers with abandon that doesnt put me to sleep
but keeps me there;
not movable.

there are weak threads. i know because i sew.
not much just one thing to another occassionally.
i lost my thimble. even the plastic one. now i use my teeth or
my kneecap.

i love finding things and feeding cute
animals who go back to sleep. [isn't that so sweet and lovable, arn't i humane?]

the other night this guy performed at rock and music hall and i went with the expectation to hate it [i usually need forty amps or one sunn nowadays. dont worry im almost over it] but really the lyrics were terribly insightful and honest. [what did i come up with? i was cold next to the octopus get money getmoneymoney]. i thought to myself...that guy is good looking AND smart? he must be a total fuck. he seems too stable. i wonder what his apartment looks like. wait...i could care-less.
the amount of female bashing im privy to sometimes is quite alarming. i dont judge females on their sexual ways. the things that come with it are more important. sex is just the act. its like that with everyone. ive become pretty numb lately but ive had the fits. i found someone good looking and smart once.
he didnt speak english too good. i couldnt keep up my end of the bargain.

i was reading to MY anyucam some things written about -ache and we were hysterical. my monthly adaptations are pretty anecdotal but i realized that she was tearing and my mouth had gone metal tasting. ohhh no ones gonna know but you
i said
no ones ever gonna know what happened
to me but you.


i'll never be able to convey.
eh no more excuses-

ill get back into the love-swing. [half-joke]

Sunday, November 12, 2006

My Nooner

pop my jaw back into place for the tenth time this hour
and things seem ok.
i mean im extremely satisfied with the nothing that expands in this mutating landcape. i

never have any idea where i am when i get all worked up and more often then not,
:i shall make this secret public...
i want to scream "I AM BLIND" because i have no idea what im looking at.

there are certain truths we hold to be evident:
  • monkey's can learn to smoke cigarettes and have attachment issues.
  • usually your guts are right until the day they fester and or get pumped/pummeled.
  • you should not take sleeping medication with alcohol, even recreational dismal drinks thatyou find corny and ironic but in the end you resign to things like: "im drinking a sparks lite in my room watching married with children from a crazy straw and one part of that straw is a real straw and the other part is a whistle[!]"

I was so swift tonight with the trains. The nyc subway system and I have had a long relationship spannnning time that always winds up with me looking at my watch yet reluctant to leave my freaks whom I've come to feel a comaraderie with as we speed through hellish sooty tunnels.
I had to meet Ian for a movie. [BORAT]
Was it a date if I didn't pay him for the ticket because I forgot? We laugh at naked men..... maybe thats not a date but our everlasting bond in pervisity of nude wrestling and jangles.

Which reminds me[.]... Last night I went to pete's candy store and dan walked in dressed like
long john silver. yellow slicker, black beard. he had a pipe too.
Earlier, Fai saw her first nyc rats [is that possible, how has she never seen rats? its the
stereotype everyone loves [along with junkies lying over the hoods of cars or something: see jason number 9.. the one with the nyc opening]?

We saw a couple break up in a pizza place. It was tragic. bro, go home and do that. Maybe their
house burnt down and thats why they were crying and holding eachother. Or maybe they were
breaking up after their apt burnt down.

WELL after a whole lotta walking around [i was bouncing at one point, the polar states of my
personality were in high gear...] we all got home somehow. [read:my car] 3 brrws.

Today- Dan told me that after 3am last night he got the shit kicked out of him and woke up in
the White Plains hospital. What to say? Sorry dan. I woulda taken out my earrings and thrown
down if it were a just cause. at least they didnt stab you. right? uha...uhhh..ha. next time
dont leave your fake beard at the bar so you can go to p-chase incognito. Quote: "at one time i ripped out the iv and i was like fuck this....bleeding everywhere and i pretended to go to the bathroom when a nurse stopped me and i got on a bus right outside."

This blogging sure is fun. Usually all this stuff just wads up to decompose.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

im retiring.

just wait
ing
for the knees to subside into the strict
funtions they had:
once said,
look at the way that mouth munches into the own mush
of its teeth.
exercised with apple jacks, some sugar roasted gum sand,
which is harder than sleeping.

i only eat swallow. i only eat swallow! i pant sweating from my tongue,
wags a clockwork mantlepiece.
ahhh gilded words.

i gave up spelling, i would sit there silently finding skin to check on replacing my drink into the exact rings it had made on the antique wood. oh, how i longed for the wood to be beated into paper so i could write. if only this jail cell were steel paper.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

a healthy cramping of style.

white people robbing white people in williamsburg.
--------------


Today I received an extraordinary gift from a woman I've really bonded with for about seven months. She gave me some jewelery her husband had had made for her by hand before he passed away. I couldn't do anything but drink tea with her and thank her. I couldn't decline the gift either. With all of the stories she's told me about life in Germany and raising her children, I've become close with her in a way I never thought was possible. I gave up calling her by her American name and I just call her grandma like the kids. I'm not supposed to tell her son that she gave it to me. I wont. I told my mother. My mother asked if I had cried.
No.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"imagine how my father felt... resorting finally to the belt...."HV.
constantly stuck in my head. its the new republic of rough and ready.

Vlad the impaler dipped his bread in the blood of his victims and barely chewed. Vladracula.


earth angels:
rainbow chalk
pony mountain
sugar squaw
intellectual color cheese wheel
black & white cookie: an interracial, sweet marriage.


club foot: some kinda lump life.

tales from the six train:
1.
things are pretty okay,
i read my book,
look
down
see pointy shoes
and finally when
i look up
i see they are merry mariachi singers.


2.
lets rob these people
no
okay
so how old is charisse anyway?
i dont know 14...15?
i really dont know man
but uhuh
you know
old enough to give a nigga a blow job
why you got two houses?
fuck she got no... you know
hunts point.
fuck you, i live in the projects;
she dont even know.
----


i have cold toes, warm hands, lukewarm feeling and a set life of uneven slate sidewalks to catch my footing on.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

clean bills; the drycleaned dollar.


you were fucked up in beauty
the thread of confusing red string wrung round your lips in a dark
temperate
flux.
and i was there holding the pivets and hollows of my knees
bending my fingers back
and retracting my every word
no
extracting it.
this was the way i was.

i was the first of the fruit to fall
and be handed
amongst men,
amongst the crowds.
and there was a shush
and
my personal fables were quiet.

and there was a humm
and my inviible audience was on
that string.

tied to my finger,
these reminders. dedicating words
to the lights as they faint from exhaustion.

my neck just this source of strength. to hold my head up. this pride compromised like a kneadable eraser. these days like a gift,
each. and where are we putting them?
behind us. watching us walk away.
this.
the way it should be. man creation of the pocketwatch;
the way it was.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

my small percent shows: GHOST!

fushion ticket:

1.
make it all thinned out
young and
milked lips.
pulped residual
and a fully fleshed thought
has become condensed
between the vice [sic].

2.
made it all thinned out
young,
milking lips;
pulps. residual,
out full flesh
condensed between
a thoughtful vise.

3.
lips milked thin.
chewing the pulpy edges,
residual flesh.
i thought,
oh yes,
how condensed,
saliva concentrated.

4.
fleshed out lips
caught in my teeth,
how smooth-
rolling the edge over
my tongue
under the fuzz of saliva.
braking seal
cracking smiles.


well how about that.
Dissecting pens,
insects ink.
therefore touching pink.
i promised.

an incompetant wizards staff. a plane crashed into a building near my school. the dow has recovered after terrorism was ruled out. im not going to class though. my heart caved in around noon today so ive been inserting splintered beams. tomorrow im going to see lukie. i havent seen him or the girls in a long time. i bet he doesnt need to be rocked to sleep anymore. i bet he still needs jazz to stay asleep though. now i will have money for a metro card for friday. i am going to see (the) melvins next week. this will complete my year of seeing my favorite bands. jucifer was almost too much to bear. my bare skull like a marshmallow pillow of slurpee gum. i feel my bones crush and heal constantly.

Thursday, October 05, 2006

no larnyx

i want to sleep with you [under the covers!]
and then we will feel our ankles dissintergrate
and out teeth just mash into tongue putty,
asleep as we were.

there, when we are just on the street and we go single file im
thrilled with the fact you are following me and
thinking this is why we can never leave this greatly elevated train!
look how high we are (7),
and im still showing the signs of self mockery
and rocking back and forth.

i want to be so cool, dont you get it!
we thread each notch and its understood,
this project has been stood up as
we go fucking nuts in hall of messy fights of volume.

you are it! i wish
i knew who you was.
god
it would make things so much
easier.
and id be a grownup to dead.
it would feel like the eggs scraped out of the pan
and you know who eats that
we laugh: BEASTS.
and we relish in our dim lighting and rememberence of supermarkets that are right around the corner. no no not this one. okay okay we are going home. you are coming home with me. we dont even sit next to eachother! i wink at you! this is all fun and games. eventually it ends and im just
SO FUCKING WARM IN BED MYSELF.
get it. every
day
im like
you bitch
you've got this. YOU GOT IT.
im so confused, a
ha



a



HA.

Saturday, September 30, 2006

comcast.

oh good god.
comcast has just hit new york.
after seeing its devastating effect on the west coast a year ago, i can only fear a bigger campaign then verizon could conjur. whats going on?
there's real stuff i could write about.

i never capitalize i-s. when i write papers or use word instead of notepad for the occassional short story that bitch has been tamed to automatically uppercase-size and correct tons of crap for me.

technology.

Monday, September 25, 2006

from my rhodia

tonight:
" i have to remember to listen to piecemaker [cephalic carnage] whenever i'm feeling especially shitty, unloved or stuck at parkchester on the goddamn <6> [& that diamond means express mind you] traffic bullshit. this late at night everything is in hyper despair and the strange colors of burroughs closing in on you- shooting the train further out and away from the heartcore of light pollution. everything is really silent except for my head and my mouth chewing this gum. the girl across from me has nice eyes. my life has been ruined by the textures of a days flow."

my handwriting is also in a style i havent written in for months.
>>>i imagine being choked by someone i love, feeling the noisy neck vertabrae take on a mutant life in their hands. i know this feeling and have yet to understand the physical aspect. what im saying, i guess; is i want you to choke me FOR REAL so i can have a justified cause and effect in the eyes of some sidewalking god. whenever i banish myself into this rutted, carpeted forest of thick synapses- i get this childish need to listen to that song by nirvana [not released on any album-- i dont think ive even had a conversation about nirvana since high school] called "down in the dark." because feeling light and singy while going into the cliched "pit of despair" has been an aspiration since i watched annie and knew ahead of time that her parents, the Mudges were fucking dead.
sing why dont you.

Saturday, September 23, 2006

alex trebek does not have a real face.
------------------------------------------|
it feels good to get that off my chest.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

if my stomach could cry, it would come out my weephole.

oh im such a failure
i whine
and she tells me the xrays are
fine.

------------------
im on my way. on my way to making things work. everyday i walk out the goddamn door and i think: ah yes, today, to-fucking-day. not looking forward to it as much as knowing
i wont have a chance at today like i did yesterday or will tomorrow.

who am i kissing?
when i lost my main person to kiss, two little girls suddenly trusted me and sometimes when they kiss me i think: "i could cry" and so i make sure the pink in their cheeks is from passion for running and eating and throwing smoothed glass and finding the perfect bug to poke.....
and when i hold their bodies out over the sound, high tide, i let them get sand on their feet. its september and the waters colder but our feet dry, radiating on the concrete.
its warm enough today,
we all understand
about today.


[and its these times i think: PERFECT].

Saturday, September 09, 2006

for a girl like you. tails of dead goldfish: monster.

ive been wearing my ipod down more now than ever. at home while writing papes [for reference i didnt miss the r: i call them papes like payps... wait maybe i'll just spell it payps....]

i just have a lot of time on the six and walking.
yesterday i walked sixty blocks downtown.
my friend ian was hiding behind a tree and popped out at me. we decided to go to a bar. i felt bad over his lack of consumption- he had said my salad - in green wrap - had looked "too green."
we were standing around, the music was changing, i was looking at a james dean cutout...
and then i said: "do you want to go to japan" or "DO YOU WANT TO GO TO JAPAN"
and he said: "yeah, why..."
i said: "me too, thats all...."

later i saw mastodon and converge. [sold out] it was pretty good. well mastodon was. my friend bret drove me home, which was nice.

today there was a pool party at my co-op. our style is to bring down a desert, steal as much food as possible, and eat it upstairs with no one being the wiser to our lack of presence. i guess someone noticed, as our camp is not "slick." we smooth over the situation with cookies from this place in the bronx that is...."to die for."

i want to travel again but its just not possible. someone who i like please lets go somewhere remote, okay? fund it... alright? i was dreaming of ameoba records. i was lost in a pile of out of print stuff and had vinyl in my teeth. i had their whole residents collection.....[it is nyuge].

well,
im going to try to see joe lally tuesday. problem is i forget things. the knitting factory. efk. its like ive lived there for years, only difference is now i dont smoke and drink openly on the street. the last part is a complete lie.

doe/doe.

Monday, September 04, 2006

glass breathing to break.

ive been gone
son,
its been minutes
between chewing my tongue
and ripping the webbing underneath
to stick it out farther
and roll the air up
into my throat
causing the lump
i save for a different time.

Thursday, August 31, 2006

"deafening volumes"

i wrote this on july fourth. i came across it today and it nearly doubled me over. i know now that i should always listen to what i've written because i never lie in journal format.
the last part is sickeningly significant, as the absence of something that was significant was about to be initiated. it was titled: deafening volumes [which is why i never found it- it wasnt dated].
tomorrow is september. haha i made it to september; fuck!
oh- this is unedited- obviously.



speaks defeaning volumes on the expense of actual work.
define work
breathing is work
and its 24 hours a day. without work there would be no life and so begins the drive to increase our wealth of living through work.
more oxygen im saying,
always more oxygen.

to let someone know you are unhappy is a confidence given up freely by the bosses of their own destiny. that indescribeably small chance of pre figured and curved future. something with meat on its bones;
headed for the slaughter. cured with salt.
im cured with salt [>] and my oceanic endorsements are limited to the before and after colors concerning wet rocks. step right up. the sun is expiring what light is left in the palms of children who litter the coast.

all ill remember if i ever fall asleep without my blood mutating on its way to my brain,
is the soft hands of a stranger
and innocent blonde concrete tearing my knees to shreds as a child.
maybe not the conrete as much as picking the scabs with some methodical anger when i needed to see real blood. before i was allowed to watch television after 7. before i came across books where hymens were torn, dragons were slain and used tampons were strewn about public restrooms.
soon blood was boring and thats pretty much
when my blood tests became crucial and frequent.

i was swollen with the birth of my body rejecting itself into a new life form alien to the status given to my brain. i thought about how people had no legs and were happy. i was ashamed but i was then crying for all of us. this tactic turned rotton inside out and was showing up on my skin as hives of worry.

-------
now i am feeling the closed in labyrinth a speck of dust must feel after being disturbed and resettled in a spot next to its old one. in the same vicinity, the same colors, the same lighting, the characters have alternated but ultimately the scale of movement is being harshly and progress was better made working,
breathing, 24 hours.

what do i do now with a person who cant use that information. cant give me feedback. i have such a negative feeling about the future of things---lacking any radiant features---lacking compromise, comprehension, commitment.
what to do when love has become such a falling failing frightening force.
fuck.

and then fight.

Monday, August 28, 2006

not dead just sleeeeeeeping.

now all i want is for the 3.50 flip flops to hold up
until the cold drops
-right to make the ground freeze.

im anxious to see what this week brings.
i got a great book yesterday--> there had been a mild book crisis two hours prior to its purchase.
today i had a vagina talk with a four year old
[shes sharp as a tack that one]-
i need to step out into the sleep, [im appalled at the way
i've been scratching at my face in excitement].

Friday, August 25, 2006

kingsform


scratched knox's armpit today-rolling on ecstacy he was mrowing.
i spilled this wacky costco drink inside my mothers car
annnd i bought granola.
since things are kicking up once again i have decided to recruit drew to make dinner with me tonight. my brother has the attention span of a faulty eraser.
last night i drank wine with fai's family and mike at their digs in elmsford. i ate some crazy peruvian stuff. when i go back up to vermont i must make fai prepare spicy cracker sauce!
which reminds me:
henry ford, along with the help of a distant cousin- made the little charcoal patties that many people barbeque with. "kingsford charcoal." the history channel is meant for insomniacs like me. i have yet to meet anyone who has also seen "the history of concrete."

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

trim that minge

pop your [hip]bones back convex!
[very recent]

there are some faces of
yours
i always had and it was
funny when it was new on you.
im finding the good in between the cracks of peoples lips-
anywhere really.
i think my quest to "find the good" came after i realized
good
is not cured by protecting the selfishness of oneself with silence.
i wanted to look good for you. i wanted you to think my mouth was beautiful and capable of being what it always was- ahead of itself: delerious.
[recent past]
"are you okaye"?
i laughed through my spine and bloomed peaches out of my eyes,
dilating the pits.
"YEAH IM OKAYE. HAHAHAH". [is this what wounded soldiers reluctant say when they dont want someone in their platoon to carry them out of the firestorm]?
i was not in denial of these three thousand thrusted truths rooted in my trusty palm.
[current]
feeling alone is precious. you and a glass of milk and being in your underwear and a long sleeved tshirt in airconditioning with the perfect blankets that have sustained more writhing in restless torment than most [polled recently: assoiciated press].

kaye knox has been sleeping in dresser drawers like black and white movies always suggested. we're really a throwback to silent films in this house because the noise is deafening.

Sunday, August 13, 2006

sun warms the third, we've come in first.

you are too nice.

im thinking
this is whats most important finding out who this guy is
or to have a bio on him.
or i was thinking about perfume and the wonderful substance of scent
transformed on skin..

oh becks,
i dont care, of course i just want to
go somewhere with you
and when are we leavin?

oh becks,
that sounds so great
it sounds so happy.


rebecca: this too shall pass.

like everything with the foam crowns of legal leopards,
i too have lept with blinding trust,
blind trust
for all i see is this small space
and it expands as i grow deeper into it.

ohhhhhh i was with leta and we were in this house where fathers put on cufflinks. and mothers skirts graze knees with rushed scuffing-
she was eating some shredded carrot and it was hard to ignore the creaks of the sounding fathoms, wooden floors; the house.

someone was setting off camera flashes. eventually i held her tight as she was getting fatter in my arms.
someone had come to kidnap her,
torture me: declare ransom, and
steal, steal, steal.

in the begining, sun shone through the windows.

Friday, July 14, 2006

Salads [or

give the baby his bottle].

Few things bring me closer to the state of readiness than the ability to assess the waking light as unattainable. Suddenly I sit on the edge of an eclipse, outrunning a boulder, constructing my hang glider in hopes of going-fast barefoot with the vastness of valleys-cut muscles and upper boy/body strength.

I quit my job and have never been so [pre –s]sure of something. There are lists of all sorts concerning the category: “spending my time deconstructing this sprouting life was unsatisfactory”. Factory. One can only handle the difference of huge personality subtractions for so long. Many situations occurred in which I was the forerunner of a poorly designed immoral game. There was no volume for me to suspend thoughts in. there was no outlet for everything that got muted in English.

I could climb outside myself and pound on the walls and the sneering echo of defeat would lick all the corners of the triumphant all-mighty dollar. The very perforation stubbing his toes inside the temperatures wrenched. I wasn’t comfortable on my high rusting rung of retired respect. Kick myself out by the shirt collar, stray dark red hairs stuck to my neck and blood sopped cheeks. I was unified to the controlled tension in my lips. You can’t comprehend the march of startled controlled lemons on personal assignment.

- I quit my job.

My mother and I went to Viva Farm and picked out fruits [and for the first time, together, a pineapple]. Imported Korean candy, milked jell-o’z, pungent thick herbs lined the air conditioned section. I ate a nectarine and didn’t pay for it. I started to feel weird about eating the whole fruit to the pit and throwing it behind the car and returning to the line for checkout.

I have had the smell of fruits coming from my vagina ever since I got my period. It is not entirely unpleasant just something I’ve never experienced. I wont entertain the though of fruit of my womb. That’s unnecessary.

I’m leaving for Vermont tomorrow with Fai. Iv’e not been there in a year. I am supposed to come up with something brilliant due to the change of location. That’s a lot of pressure. I can tell you that I was in Poughkeepsie yesterday and fell in love with the moldings on each rusting stone efface. The streets were very empty. I think that allowed me to feel a perfect absence akin to a photograph. Gave my eyes screwable filters. I’m staying away from Mount Vernon until I am forced to go back. The things I was forced to do under the pretense of employment… walking those streets in misery and heat. Just so, just so.

The other day I was warned about chlorine burns and I noticed my fingers were gone. Today I was warned about distracting people who are holding knives. Yesterday I was cautioned to maintain my structural innocence but I’ve decided that was bad advice.

Saturday, July 08, 2006

snake handlers for god

recapping the memories of swigging from the lime bottles:
  • dirty hair. it's got: long, thick, uncut, hard to manage now. i wash with vigor, its all getting better.
  • my pee bottle is still in the npz. i hope no one drank from it even though i washed it. a brief look: here.
  • i spent the whole day waking up. i dont know whats wrong. my blood never came back. fai is coming back. i am going to hug her and then i am going to get on a plane and fly to greece. well i would but you know... the job: proof.
  • i like stupid bunnies and im [not] ashamed to admit that the sight of bunnies in the "wild" [note----more wildlife in nyc than one would think] sends me into some kind of instinctual frenzy. last night i saw a bear and a moose on my lawn and could barely plug in the electricity. plenty of dragonflies showing there lisa frank colors--- and wasps will forever be spitting their junk juice in the crap hives in between my windows--- i actually think its very pretty. yellow jackets, wasps, hornets, beeeeez, they are nice from a distance.
  • bumble bees i could just eat.
  • my neighbors will have to get used to the sight of my cannibal corpse tshirt interrupting their margaritaville club parties and let me swim in peace.
  • friday was hectic, i almost fainted. i went in early because we're getting ready to show. man im good. its going to be sad when i say peace out- but then again ive said that a million times and i keep crawling back to the slaughterhouse.
  • the thing i like best about my bathroom upstate is the relatively cool bathroom. i can sit on the toilet and rest my head on the cool sink. its calming. i dont even have to be using the toilet... and there is a second door right next to the bathroom that swings out---albeit into the heart of the wasp nest, but still.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

i blame the cloud cover
for the ring slipping in and out of
the dark.

i can't leave you behind
to glow hot next to the space heater
without me in between.