"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.

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].

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."

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.

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.