BLOG SWITCH. FRESH START.
more images, imaginings and graphic upstarts of the vaguely depressing, yet satisfying yields of muffled yelps.
But I leave you with mending:
I woke up today and told Ian: "there's this part in my dream where I am able to paint in blood and only I can see it. It peels when it is on a non-porous surface- so I have to go back into my dream and fix it."
I can not fix it.
Ian said: you should listen to more beatles songs.
I said: I listened to 53 yesterday, but if I am sad I listen to "because" a lot.
Ian bought me some aleve. We looked for lighting fixtures. Everything is too expensive he said. your desk is an escritorio i said. la mesa. he said. lamesa-escritorio i said. it is a revolutionary table desk and we thought of it in a different language.
Ian went to look for fixtures and I went to the park, but it just wasn't the same. The grass was all brown and an angry drunk man called me an illegal jew. I like living dangerously and being 1/8th Jewish, but how did he know that? What was he drinking? My iced coffee did not give me psychic powers.
Besides, McCarren park was sort of sad and my good memories started to make the blisters on my feet swell, so I bid Ian farewell by text because I needed to be on the train and listening to "oh comely" about 3X. I avoided someone who looked familiar by pretending to be interested in a common bird and then ducking down the stairs.