dry skin, rusted kneecap.

I am currently trying to kick prescription sleep medication because I don't have the money to pay for it. Maybe kick it isn't the correct word. I am an insomniac. I was diagnosed years ago. For some reason, like other functions I should come equipped with as a human, sleep was not one designed for me.

-It does NOT help that they are building houses across the street at the break of dawn when I am just closing my red rimmed eyes.

-It does NOT help that my room is next to the kitchen.

-It does NOT help that I am in finals week.


I may try over the counter medication eventually because two hours of sleep or less is not cutting it. I'm too fragile for misuse of caffeine so I'm in a walking haze persistently.
I must say late night TV is pretty good. I also come up with wacky inventions and sculptures in my delusional states. I have this idea for fountains and snowglobes. You would never believe it!

instep.

and finally what was bothering me was that i would forget to turn off the light
or double back to swallow a vitamin
or forget to take tea with me on especially cold days
where my scarf served my jacket a banquet dinner.

honestly i became obessed with the past compared to the present
and the future of money and when exactly my soles would wear thin.

i wasn't in any type of predicament but the fact that the door didn't close all the way
made me laugh and the
sound of my keys in locks made me bite my lip so hard there was blood-
really blood inside my mouth
that i would drink down with sletzer.
when my keys were at my hip or stuck under someones ass on the subway
i was alright.

my anecdotes hadnt suffered in the wrong venues
but i made the choice to accept my name
as it came from people i really loved
or do love, to this day.

when i was alone in the dark waiting to sleep i was hoping some person would come
and snuggle my hands to them,
thats what i like most...
but i awoke to construction. i think whether or not i hear it
some cement is always being poured
and men are at work.

blanking blanket

and here i write the
lion is the walrus;
paul!

things hurt. im prone to bruises and picking at my face. ive cried a lot recently because everything turned into a fucking meat puppets song interpreted through a hobos bad acid trip.
it hurts my face and my eyes.

im so tense my eye started twitching and my jaw is popping like the rock steady crew.

i miss gordy. being away from her is like knowing my favorite pen is being used by someone who translates neruda into german. im never getting that pen back. it was such a fine black thing.

im really terrible. i want to go back to new paltz and live in the cold and let the mice catch the mice catch the flour i didn't bag up properly. i stopped smoking again. i got sick and then repulsed by the additives in my body. i got repulsed by my own sallow skin and the weaker light in the bathroom. i started drinking seltzer because i ran out of diet coke. then i stopped eating meat. finally i started reading murakami again- because after so much thoreau [and such a distance between now and when norwegian wood was read] i needed to be immersed in a corny cob pipe of a dream. "do you understand?" "do you see?"

im repulsed my the material me. right now as i write this i'm in my alaska shirt. the one anyu brought back from some trip. serious pitstains so i wear it in fall/winter when i need a sweatshirt. sweating it out at the homestead! im in pat's pants from when he lived in new york. brian gave them to me. pat still asks about them. they have moose on them. when i went to california [where pat now lives] i wore them every night! also, i am wearing my favorite perfume.
perfume is great because it goes from being contained in a bottle [which may in fact be amazingly beautiful] to being wildly loose on neck breasts and wrists. i never feel bad about buying perfume. i stick with the same one for about two years. people whove known me long and have smelled me consistently tell me i have two scents. i'm okay with that. i dont know if i can ever wear the perfume he gave me again. also, i am uncertain we will ever make perfume [again].
my parents refused to send me to france to perfume school to be a nose. i wound up leading a very terrible life [just kidding, i would never kill myself over spilled anything... well maybe blood. it would have to be perfect and not premeditated]

tomorrow i go to a women's conference at hunter. i get in for-ee because i am part of an organization or something. its at hunter so thats my in[n]. i go there, you know. to learn how to sit quietly and at first be ignored by my peers, then avoid them.

boy, i sure can only handle a few good fellows at a time. i really like to be the sleeper. papow.

in other news:
my horoscope [so accurate i have to share, so scary its true, so true my life has changed and i am again homeless in my home]:

"Reaching understanding with others concerning feelings and emotional issues is a special focus for you at this time. Resist the lure of something that is obviously bad for you. You must be willing to break out of a downward spiral by accepting the inevitable. The line between the foolish and the wise has never been more clearly drawn."

what a fire sign! where's my wet blanket?
---------
-ian and will at arlenes grocery
-mxbx
-tickets to olympia
-cr portfolio
-bankxit

help. there is a bar across the street.
they have a raucous karaoke night but tonight
its JAZZ
and right now its a sax jazz rendition of smells like teen spirit.

what?
why.
gordy is trying to knock misc. things over. pill bottles and skrewdrivers.
tonight the kitchen cabinet fell OFF OF THE WALL. only one dish was broken. i wasn't here for it but wow... [too bad i brought my cat here and my landlord had to say this about fai]:
"she black and make neighborhood look bad"
and then when called a rascist:
"i have many puerto rican friends"
but not in astoria.... right?

as fai would say: "afro peruvian: TAKE A RACE CLASS"
she moved to bushwick. i have a sick history with that place including:
getting offered crack
being asked out on a date in which crack smoking would be the seduction stage
obtaining the keys to some guys apartment that i hardly knew back then and then inviting people over while he flew to texas. drinking forties and brushing roaches off me in my sleep.
kissing sabrinz on the cheek after having a stoop talk where we watched the rats mate.

oh man. Smells like teen spirit again after crazy jazzy flutter interlude.
even hitting the high notes.
woosh.


so what do i do? i dont know. keep reading walden and writing crazy short stories that get czech plusses. working and wiping yoghurt out of demz hair? no non ononono
watching HOUSE in bed with my mom while we tell tall tales about neighbors, including deceased ones.
YESSSSSSSSSSs.

summons infection.

yesterday i had to go to court for my favorite reasons: the ole pink sheet. aka nyc summons.

let it be known that i was extremely guilty of the "crime" i committed. yes, i was in a "park after dark." i was drinking but at that time i had downed it and was clean. i was the most level headed of the bunch, and proceeded to calmly persuade the officers from being douches. however, as anyone knows, they were typical cops and wrote me up anyway, making several mistakes on the summons. of the ticketed group i was the only one who showed. my friend harry took off on foot down the block, my friend danielle made way to denver, and that other kid- corey, he was a squatter whom i only met that night. supposedly his long locks were cut later the next day.
he told my friend he'd like to date her.
she said no way because he didn't have neck tattoos.

anyway.
my case was dismissed yesterday. they let me off [just like the trespassing and untimely lapse of judgment when i lit up a cigarette in front of some cops on new years '05 in the subway station].
i am quite the summons magnet.

i have a sinus infection. i am at my house for the first time in a week. obituary tickets. mountain goats tickets. klonopin.

tamborines for the lord of silk thread.

hi,
this is the owner of this blog.
hi.

today i had food at a place that i think was trying to poison me. or make me vomit in front of people. or just playing a cruel joke where the soda and ketchup and salad and chicken was filtered through five month old yoghurt and goats milk, prepared to swim rancid in my stomach. heaving like a storm that would flood Pinocchio's heart.
saladhead.

branchworms invaded the outermost finger on my left shoulder and wont let any conscience wary flutterbirds land there to whisper the good news in my ear. the downside of all of this is that i have snails with demon antennas leaving slime trails through my life. a grueling way to go down, if i were provoked for a response.

brand spanking new molskine. big one- as big as they get. leave the new paltz one behind and get started on all of this gumbo that wrestles my mind and hands. wrings my hands like washcloths and flaps them like umbrellas indoors.

i don't know what to say so i just tell you i can not see you today. maybe tomorrow as i mend with tonight, the nautical breeze will uncrust my throat and i can be honest. i thought about walking down to the water. i forgot how heavy my feet are. wear sunscreen on my lips and pass as a person who burns everywhere but the softest part of her body, heart centered in mouth.

mattress trouble.

gosh.
i wish i had some very nice wooden floors
to make sticky with spilled stuff and clean them up
feel accomplished.

wellie.
i have to go to work. gonna miss it for this month definitely.
love these children so much.

also:
coke zero cherry
itching/scratching
glass
old american cars
bootleg dvds
not bonhoeffer
barrettes. i really love barrettes.

it took me forever to get my scripts this month. the secretary at the office was completely out of her mind. she was rude for no reason. fire her, please. god DAMN. people who work in offices around union square. efk. this week-end was so great. i drank two liters of diet soda and watched the fast and the furious: tokyo drift. i guess some of my friends graduated from college. uhhhh. congrats. see you back in new york. if you are moving to LA, good luck. have fun in LA. i was watching skate videos [see: in bed all weekend scratching drinking soda with comfy blankets and gin and tonics. a good send off week-end] and i love recognizing locations from LA and SF. too glad to be in NY though. this summer is going to be weird. things happen when you least expect them too. someone fly me to olympia. someone fly me to greece. we can stay for free, promise.

i bought an irvine welsh book. i have plenty of other books to read but i guess i can not commit to those others. i've read everything Welsh has ever written. the good and the iffy.

i got into an iffy tiff with the head of the religion department. [not really a full blown tiff but she's a tough nut to crack. she left a message on my goddamn answering machine!]

proposed:
the rest of the year i'll be a little more reckless but

infinitely more organized.

inviserable.

we all stall,
make mistakes;
sink the basket when no one is looking.

sometimes we're french,
sometimes we can't pay 700 in rent for a shitty place that probably has bedbugs.


style the hair of little kids
who only seem to wear variations of pink.
----
uh.
i am scared to look at my bank account. because i have next to nothing in there and i may possibly have another school to tuitio-size. i also lost my bankcard. and my glass earring. oh yeah... i should go buy hella's there's no 666 in outer space since/for i love the album so much.

cannibal corpse is playing irving.
i'm seeing type o the next night. i'm too broke to buy a ticket right now
but trust me--- i will fucking be there.

nyctv is taking over the world. or maybe just my kingdom.

regis and kelly. people with accents.

fuck being up at two am.
"why am i obsessed with suicide" "where is god when i need him"
this is why i dont watch tv. bizarre messages can appear at any time.
actually, i do watch tv. i watch regis and kelly. why? i love the sound of regis' voice.

http://flickr.com/photos/non_delay/

so many good things have happened.
i held so many babies today. i love kids.
i even napped with dem today because i was awoken at five am!
[i didnt go to sleep until 3-30am]
i had such a full day. [so many things went wrong though!]

alexi is going to dc. im jealous, obviously. i have to be here in ny- handing in papers on kierkegaard and camus. pimping my vans on the escalator. hunters and gatherers. witty. i met someone who has a great smile. oh crap.
im upside down inside out. really i need to get to beverly at some point. brian called me today and i picked up and started singing to him. he said: "is this a voicemail?" no. i just want to sing to people sometimes.

i was going to put: "i need a good fuck" it was all subconscious and sneaky like. but i really dont i really just need to put gas in my car. its running on fumes!

document this:

lol

very funny;-) thanks for the laugh
i am sorry this was sent to you by mistake

At 05:38 PM 2/7/2007, you wrote:

i filled my requirement last semester when i took 100 i believe- do i still need this? im in psych 170 now- maybe you wanna test my blood for stds? let me know if i can get three credits if i test positive for something sexy.
that was kind of rude but i felt like i was on a roll.

rebecca kish.


-----Original Message-----
From: Psychology 100 Research Participation system [mailto:________@hunter.cuny.edu]
Sent: Tue 2/6/2007 1:34 PM
To: Rebecca K---
Subject: Psychology 100 Research Participation system Login Information

Your login information for Psychology 100 Research Participation system is listed below.

User ID: ______
Password: ________


-------------
love hunter. love. it. its a lovely place. i love when im on the escalator and the fire alarm goes off and they become stairs and no one even says anything. they just start walking up. except i just got off the subway so i came in at the basement and im like: "damn yo" but i dont say anything. no one else does either.
i've been writing a shit ton. bad news: i wrote a horrid paper for religion. i said something about a belly button. "coz, you know; its like---finite"

i think i lost power steering fluid in my car. i was on middletown road the other night [you know just chillin in the bronx; like always] driving home and wouldnt you fucking know i pull under the el train, except my wheel wouldnt turn and i already accelerated. this isnt an "i think" so much as "i know."
how, HOW DO YOU KNOW THIS AREKAYE?
well.
a. i know what power steering fluid smells like
b. i think it might have water in it [think-frozen]
c. i just popped my hood and took care of this issue a couple of weeks ago and noticed some non consistent traits and trends concerning fluids.

note: psych170= psych of human sexuality.

Realizing Wits do come from Twits.

I've had a very ritzy and very flowerblossom lifestyle as of recent.
What with the apartment and house hopping and sleeping in odd places, to the excess consumption of all things human: [BRAINS!]
I definitely killed a few brain cells in the process but at least I have a short story set-up now and dontchaknow,
sacrafice [fill in the addendum for those of you with jaws and a tail].

Edward Gorey once said: "I have to write before I draw"
The man is a great source of inspiration for me. I only wish I knew more about him, so I've been reading up and out/over. I ordered some things by him.

Oh, gee whiz. I have a problem. Both of my computers stopped working, mostly. One is just dead- Thats with all my wiritng/writing on it. I looked [hard] at how much those ibook things cost. Holy crap! [A lot of money]. How ridiculous. I need to get one that fell off the back of a truck. Email me if you happened to be standing around and caught it when it fell.

I've bought and mailed some darlin' postcards. All of my friends are now old and wrinkled. you can check my flickr if you don't believe me. Starting another semester at school. It seems more like hustlin' for grades sometimes than learning with a mint leaf as a bookmark.

You get the drawl.
There was quite a bad accident in the spine of newrochelle the other day. Mummorz friend [done] saw the gored body. Today it has come to light that the man was a family friend. [Of someones family, I refuse to believe that we could call this non-cohesive unit "family"- it seems to come with a chuckle. As if we were all pieces of paper and the best glue someone could come up with was tacky glue and all of the sequins have since dissapeared but you can see their mark clearly. That was a pretty long aside, guess the dead body is on my mind completely. Considering its been cremated, that makes sense].

TA.

Free Punch.

I feel quite accomplished. I've read two books already this month. I'm sure I wont finish a third, but I sure as hell am going to try.

I get pretty side-tracked. Not that theres anything so monumentally enthralling outside, beckoning me ever so softly, but still.

I had to go to Borders today and Bret wasn't working. Some chump rung me up. He wasn't a bad kid, it was just that he didn't give me an obscene discount. [And, I bought an obscene amount of books- on a gift card...].

Later I wound up at an exhibit at the high school where I saw my old photo teacher. She wasn't surprised that I had turned my focus to English. She also wasn't surprised that Alex no longer lived in Canada or spent a duration in Cambodia or India. Does anything surprise anyone anymore?

I still can't find last years desk diary. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but I have postcard stamps in the pocket in the back and I need them. [I'm thinking about a piece for my arm by the way. CHRIST the train horn is blaring. why for choochoo, whyfor?]

I can't decide if I'm going to cut all my hair off or not. Ya'll have seen me with this long hair. It is long son. L-O-N-G. I have to cut someones hair this weekend. Then they are going to Texas! I would like to go to Austin. Unfortunately, I'm actually looking for flights from LA or Portland.

If the band Harvey Milk and I were in a torrent love affair, I would describe as such: "Yeah, we're not really happy in this long distance relationship, I just need to feel his touch; yaknow."

They're Bloodletting the Foundation

A stronger skin over the wrong side of my heart.
Swinging like a pendulum, the proof is in the metal that clinks under my shirt. Now and
forever, I'll have an addendum that'll deflect the descending ozone [that smokes on the
sidewalks].

A Born Again Warrior of the well worn soles and tied tongued losses.
As despicable as I've found humanity to exhibit- a constant held true before my first
compound sentences- I'm coming around the bend without breaking. [or disolver, revolving,
inverting, converting, this convection] More forgiving? Possibly. More understanding?
Definitely. How about more warped into a coated reality of reading skies while in
conversation? Indeed.

The other night, rain soaked, foreign clothing.
A fogged morning: a new yearded chapped quarter lip, wonky walked Volver
a girl with golden hair
a princess eating soup how we eat
across: a boy who is an underdog
backlog: listing in our wet clothes,
buffer zone blanket fold:

Here today
I kept
the car in gear
chewing on a metrocard
circling the block
because i had to see the way the light was
again
so i wouldnt forget
january second
two thousand seven
--------------------

Extending the kindness of fingertips
to shoulderwings
and blades of running
teeth across the edge of
beckoned glass.

There with a blackened dollar bill
the street signs blur.
Fanning blocks of loose change,
wandering above poverty lines.

Smiles farther now, because there is
work i need to get under the first layer of the skin
below the artery of
my right wrist or
whatever gets palest when my lips go blue
for the first time
by name.
-----------
I never actually made a checklist. I never really needed to.