& we will come later in fugue|
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|Thursday, September 22nd, 2011|
|Monday, August 1st, 2011|
A man indicates to his giant white poodle an alligator head agape & gleaming on a tabletop amid old picture postcards from niagara falls and small-town starlets' pasted scraps
Another's mouth opens & closes
In a rendition of Are You Russian? English! My wife thinks you're British?
But Im listening to fats domino wail about a river
So he says it twice more
And I laugh I'm Russian and English but I'm from another planet! and wave him off and giggle away as he calls after me
A haggard gypsy woman is screaming something unintelligible at a prospective buyer, and, mid-insult turns to me & smiles & coos Howw aare youu??
I should've brought all my old hats!
The boy quail pulls the girl quail's feathers while 2 guinea piglets twitch their very little mouths
The fighting fish in all their separate corners turn to me
With some frantic, mute message on Their tiny tiny mouths but I know it cant be love
Not like the moon loves me
Not like the boy from Alabam-y
It's me an Archie, now
A parade of squawking bitches struggles to remain upright, I'm on the pavement with Archie
He's laying on his back, it doesn't look as though he'll make it
Ants are beginning to eat him
He gives a last, tiny wave
As they start in on one eye
He's looking up at me just like That boy
on his back, I have no rosewater for the cockroach, but spit is holy
But I have bouquets by bakers' dozen for the boy's cock
And holy spit holy I spit holy
And he knows it, lazing in the shade so I can douse his wrists in roses
I hear what he's saying but I don't know what he means
Two police cruisers had crept past the bar,
turning & stopping & slowly creeping the
block again & again blasting
I LOVE IT WHEN YOU CALL ME BIG
POPPA and we scream back THROW YA
HANDS IN THE AIR IF YOU'S A TRUE PLAYA
Now it's 2am & the 210 is mine
|Tuesday, April 6th, 2010|
Slowly teasing a sweet little song that briefly lifted its sleepy little head out the tangles and snarls of thought beneath the snarled and dressed mass of my hair, now almost to my shoulders. I have a friend who's dead whose name is Teddy and he helps me choose outfits for special occasions or when I am excited to go somewhere. Margarita helps me see clearly in waking dream. I am so so sick and have a hacking cough which seems, ironically, to quiet only when I am smoking. Okay, okay.
So I have to record this for posterity: matt calls me at one in the morning and wakes me - know it's him because he's in Portland and it's the Oregon area code. I moan in disgust and dread and slip back into sleep as my phone blips to say he's left a message. I've passed out, fully dressed, space heater full blast, door open and porch light on. Think I was sick then, too. At three in thee old ayem, I wake to the soft metal-on-metal clack of my screen door shutting. I am instantly jarred awake, ope my eyes, and whom is it I see, smiling benevolently down upon me, but m. Mattieu hisself! I wasn't sure if I was really awake, but he was THERE to my UTTER horror. Childishly, I attempt to hide my whole self my burying my face in my hands and refusing to look at him. All I can manage to sputter is "whyyyy are you heeerrre" and he keeps saying, "the porch light was on and the door was open!"
he leaves, upset, though when i see his sad face I cave and plead with him to sit down. When I hear his car fade off I listen to his message informing me that he is on his way to Los Angeles, and to leave the light on and door unlocked if I want to see him.
It was too hideous, but toooo good. I have met a boy from Georgia & he treats me like une diesse. Ah me
And then there are the earth's quakings, actually more like swinging-
and things too fierce to mention!
|Monday, September 21st, 2009|
bee! i'm not a FLOWER?
i am going to try to do another news fast. i haven't slept in two days because of bbc programmes about dog fighting people dying etc. meeting john tapia urquiza for some kinda
photoshoot sunday. i feel amazing & hopefull and like curling up and sleeping for all time in alternating six minute intervals. i need a fucking vacation. i might flown to new york and chicago for some work-related shite. please, me? there is room to breathe in the house but is it worth breathing. i have a gallery at which to exhibit, a space where i will get paid to play songs, endless possibilities with a fabulous photographer, new art supplies, and a place to hide. i just want to lay down in a green field and stare at blue till my eyes stop, overflow and the sun bleaches me of being. there will be ants! no bags to carry, no audience to act before, no appointments to keep, no words to stutter, no faux amis (ni grands, ni petits)
|Sunday, July 19th, 2009|
living alone is almost unbearably sweet
i got stood up for the first time
i go about writing prescriptions for people on slips
of receipt tape 1-2 drops of lavendar essential oil under the
nose before bed
evening primrose oil daily
neroli oil under the nose
jasmine essential oil in the bathwater with sea salt
i've decided to give unsolicited advice & if they don't want it they
can continue to be sad/sleepless/whatever but i've helped lots
this time is for me & myself, together, and the brimful void!
and the possums after dark
and writing notes to the ants, asking them politely to quit my kitchen
sink (it works!)
watching old chinese men practicing t'ai ch'i in the park and receiving
hoarse compliments of crows
picking up bees, calmly, calmly, sending them off on friendly air currents
delicious solitary sleep, attended by seth books at head & foot of bed,
(& gurrrl! you didn't just sing, you SANNNG)
i love everyone i am trying to BE love, loves!
|Wednesday, May 27th, 2009|
can only compare things to a rollercoaster the past few days.
i have spent them mostly in bed nursing a bottle of nyquil &
watching the same three episodes of planet earth till i knew
them well enough to reenact whole scenes for lauren when i
was forced to return to work. i do a really good african monkey-wading-
through-marsh. we are going to have ladies'
night tomorrow & talk about tampons & doucheing & skinning
cats & be sick together. we will play with two alaskan
malamutes whom we have the great pleasure & honour to know
& try not to ride them tho it HURTS not to! i KNOW i could
ride milo but it would hurt his pride.
a man named john tapia urquiza was staring at me in a tree-lined
alley where i was sullenly eating my yam & lentil & black pepper
specialty & giving him 'specially dirty looks. when he got up to leave i
looked down as tho some urgent message was to be found in my
lunch mashup because i KNEW he was going to say SOMETHING because
i can always tell within a microsecond when a strange man will
fly in the face of all scorn to fling words at me. but he gave
me business cards & told me to call him if i want to do a
photoshoot for he does fashion spreads etc. HA go to the grocery store
& buy what i need with my odd looks? What? he was super nice, too, is totally
legitimate & very uncreepy.
i went from seriously contemplating running to rite aid at six
ayem for a death cocktail of rat poison & pills to being at least hope-full
i say it everytime so i'll say it again, i'm so nuts. i should stop
saying that & just say i'm so alive. i'm going to call john tapia
this is me in our new wheelchair. i am seriously pondering using it instead of
a bike. i don't really want to buy one, & i know i'm not gonna fix up the
beach cruiser anytime soon. how rad would it be - me in the wheelchair with a
big granny hat, lap laden with blankets, speeding around the town & then
skidding up to my destination, springing from my sit-still & chaining the
thing to a bike rack?
life! life! bei mir bist du schon means you're the fairest in the land!
|Sunday, December 7th, 2008|
Ligature de trompes, reflet. Il a lu pour les personnes âgées dans des endroits où même le village, qui sait que c'est le moment de mourir, et schwyciwszy la vie et la mort,
et fermer et mourir, si vous ne pouvez pas tenir.
et fermer et mourir, si vous ne pouvez pas tenir.
et fermer et mourir, si vous ne pouvez pas tenir.
Elle voulait apprendre, à se flâner dans les bois et les oiseaux se pourraient conduire à une galonnée, un nid de cuivre et de cheveux et des nounourses "mettre les os dans la viande. un oiseau tout en noir dans sa cage thoracique sonne si le demandeur se trouve à la côte de vivre.
|Sunday, November 30th, 2008|
|from atop an elephant
sara's wide-eyedn expression when she did an impression of her students
holding the 'esteeckers' that are a reward for good behaviour.
we went to look at a studio in temple city this morning & LOVED it.
for some reason i thought temple city was ghettto, but it's actually quite
nice. the place is the perfect size for us, furnished, & it has a BATHTUB
which i cannot live without. when people come into lush and they only
have a shower i want to embrace them. the landlords are a cute, sweet jewish
couple who showed us their flat granddaughter, a laminated self-portrait by
the first-grader who will be travelling the globe (like the gnome in amelie,
with many photos). when i was in first grade i'm sure i thought the united
states was the center of the universe. our education system is so fucked, but
this is a great project. i'm going to tell dustin & sara about it. it is
going to take fifteen car trips just to move my books. maybe i will sell
some. the first thing i will do when we move in designate a painting space
line it with plastic & jump up & down. tap elephant's left ear.
p.s. i adorrre working at lush.
the day goes by so fast, and i don't feel the urge to scream on the freeway
till my throat hurts. i acually feel sad to leave, but i'm always in a great mood
because of all the aromatherapeutic elements. i also love getting people
to switch to natural products and selling them things that are actually going
to help whatever condition they have. depressed? here's marzibain, go take a
lovely bath & feel better.
my collection is growing - i won't use anything but lush, now. i scoff at
anything else. i just got the therapy massage bar with neroli oil which is
a miracle. when people tell me they have eczema and they don't buy dream
cream i want to cry for them. the worst is when someone insists upon continuing
their use of aluminum salt-based deodorant. making the world better one blob
of aromacreme at a time.
this is me right now:
i wanna be a mariachi. or have a mariachi band to myself. if i were rich, i would stop at the corner in l.a. and pick up a different group everynight and drink margaritas and sing with them. tap the elephant's right ear
|Thursday, November 20th, 2008|
|put THAT in yr pipe an...drink it
last night i was a saltlick
an omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient saltlick!
in a room somewhere
i saved children from fires
and advised jobseekers on interview ensembles
i was your mattress topper
& telephone wires and
german grammar. under the bed
in your hair
i produced beyonce's new double album
i picked up children walking to school in fact
i was a maternal figure to a lot of little
children & righted the wrongs in abusive
a Pillow Block Of Disc Harrow
whispered le mot juste into poets' ears
& winning lottery numbers to the ragged
put out sweet sleepers' cigarettes
& plucked a single pubic hair to add the
final flourish to canvasses everywhere
to-day i administered a treatment to
a one-legged man in a motorized wheelchair
he couldn't reach the sink to rinse off
the portuguese ocean salt so i filled a glass
bowl with water and gently bathed his hands and
arms spilling salty blue water onto my shoes
and all over the floor whilst his lady attendant
(and lover?) looked on suspiciously
he kept saying the problem, the problem is,
you see, but do not see see is the feet & what will remove the deadness?
i recommend x and wonder what
he's doing with his one foot that it's so calloused
and maybe he's got a foot fetish why did i enjoy
talking to him on my knees - did it make me feel
valiant? i hope he reaches new heights of
pleasure maybe with her feet in his lap Current Mood: shockingly pleasant!
|Sunday, November 16th, 2008|
|my friends and i used to say 'dude' allthetime. we still do, i think.
i forget 9/11
To be suicide bombers and manhattans
Mix & together in a huge plastic
American flag cup, bronze, before ourselves
a photograph of the emperor Bush & hear only
lata mangeshkar & Ahmad Zahir & white molest
Tongue pleased to 9-11.
We manhattans and suicide bombers in order to be
And with them in a large plastic composition
Cup American flag before making himself low
Bush and the Emperor only an image, listen
Lata Mangeshkar and white and Ahmed expressed irk
I forgot that I had my interview for a data input
position at a court reporting company.
I sat below a declaration of business practices by
great American writer, philosopher and businessman
L. RON HUBBARD. at that point, there was no way I was working there and I am sure that was obvious.
I was along for
head of h.r. had an incredibly nasal voice, with a red face
miniature features. little fishy lips. office
walls were barren, except for a photograph of the desert
sunset with an inspirational quote on «vision»,
and sickly trees are dying in a painting of what appears to be a toxic waste dump at dusk.
you will only drive a a) sedan b) convertible c) SUV
"was that my stress test?"
they are supposed to call me now if they want me
& I hope to do in order to be able to hang on them. will not
though. i rolled my eyes several times in reference
to my life and the goals of college education. Dedicate
my life to xenu!
|Wednesday, October 22nd, 2008|
|how's your news?
"how's your news" is my new favorite film, documenting the cross-country journey of a group
of developmentally disabled adults as they do man-on-the-street interviews. they also have
a band & the songs are fabulous. i was squealing and laughing and cooing at the screen for
the entire ...three hours? there is tons of extra footage. it is so inspiring and delightful
to see their excitement and joy in mundane things - it really makes the world seem like a fun
place to be. it has also changed the way i will react to people with developmental disabilities -
i always felt awkward about how to be, where & how to look, to say hello or just move on, and
figured that they weren't able to really interact with people now i will most definitely give
them a big grin & say hello, and hope we'll have a conversation. i hope i get to
meet all of the "how's your news?" team one day. the film could really seem exploitative, but
by the end, you really feel love & respect for all of them, & know that though they have
difficulty expressing it, they are all intelligent, perceptive, darling people.
|Friday, October 17th, 2008|
|test of will
me by the volleyball courts that jane & i watched over everyday, over
chammomile tea & bong hits in our third story window. just before leaving
santa cruz forever & ever. i would be a student there for the rest of my
life, i think. sometimes.
i would feel like a clean little animal again, hair too close-cropped to get a good tug in.
this is a disturbingly important issue in my life right now.
so i have one part-time job. now all i have to do is find another one!
i have a violin, all i need is a new bow, to learn to restring it & to play!
|Thursday, October 16th, 2008|
|Tuesday, September 16th, 2008|
a futuristic germ warfare movie:
she enjoyed finding their life's passion
& then trying to talk them out of it
all about death
& what happens to the body after we die
observe a hill spread thick with dead
essentially, a penis camera. anyhow,
"the answer to that seems to involve pigs"
and a rehashing of the 1930's craze for
jesus in heaven appears as a dead lamb with seven horns and seven eyes
read the bible
it is a black with a white stripe will care for baby in the snow-white gown
girls & boys can never be friends
what you don't have you don't miss
they are drunk,
|Friday, September 5th, 2008|
my mind stayed
& giggled at the grey cat and red balloons in the
weed called HEADBAND, supposedly the ultimate in
sativa. it looks like little green worms, curled
i watched a quarter of 'super high me' before my
connection evaporated. i would like to
watch the rest. he abstains from smoking for
thirty days, then smokes constantly for thirty.
at the beginning, he visits a doctor
to undergo physical & mental tests & it is
pronounced that after seventeeeeen yeeearrs
of smoking weed he has done NO long term damage
to his body or brain. recently british scientists
determined that potsmoking teenagers were 'just
as studious and MORE WELL-ADJUSTED than their
in yosemite i was talking to a US MARSHALL about
medical cannabis and he looked into my soul &
told me that anyone who is not in HOSPICE CARE
has no need of medicannabis. it kept me OUT
of hopsice care, i wanted to say. i couldn't,
though, because i would have woken up in
federal custody, on dear old federal land.
the half-dome is still standing sentinel but it
can't seeee meeeee!
i have surprisingly gotten several severals of
offers to buy my artwork, & i keep blowing it.
i whine 'it's not finiiished' or avoid the
subject because those asking are my friends &
i'd rather GIVE them my paintings, but i don't
because i want to SELL them.
i am going to look into ways i can sell them
i had a dream that perfectly presaged a conversation
i had over the phone. i'd called him
& left a message several days before & figured the
Well-travelled brat was in europe (he was! Lucky BAStard) then had
this terrible dream about housesitting his place
& he called a few hours later to describe my
dream but a. is the housesitter in reality.
last night's dream was simply more hair pornography.
matthew & i went to this open casting for studio
audiences for an 'interview,' consisting of
filling out a page of questions, signing, and
handing it to this guy who said see you monday!
$8 an hour for doing nothing! we have to call for
details, today. i hope it's some crazy game show.
this way we're at least not LOSING money faster than
we can get our hands on it.
i may have an interview soon for an 'office clerk'
position with benefits & okayyy pay in glendale,
at a court reporting firm. i would love a job
at which i could zone out & just type for hours.
i still have better plans.
i am glad that matthew still recognizes me for
all the quantum juju i'm getting into. i can't
tell if he thinks maybe i'm going mildly insane.
that's just IT! we're all psychotic, we are all
hallucinating every moment, some people just have
access to better shit.
dustin's maman had us watch the kindergarten class
for an hour whilst she went to the bank. i had
an enchanting forty minute conversation with a
little girl named maddie who wants to be a cave
man when she grows up, so she can cook & eat rocks.
i would be a terrible kindergarten teacher, because
i could never say THAT'S NOT REAL. it would BREAK
my heart to keep referencing a 'reality' in which
i don't believe. i had her draw a picture of
herself as a caveman & she wore a polkadot fur.
the kids have names like JETT, tristan, isabella.
viva los feliz i guess.
my sister is TRYING to have another baby, because
she's an idiot. because her boyfriend is an idiot.
because though she has a son, she is so in LOVE
that she must produce another son with her new
boyfriend, so HE can have a son of his OWN, as
opposed to his fake, worthless son of another for
whom he has been 'dad' for several years.
bullshit bullshit bullshit. my nephew is already
traumatized by the lack of attention. it makes
me want to SHAKE her. so far i have only avoided
i realized, once & for all that i will never
reproduce. tie my tubes! cut it out! take
my fucking uterus & stuff it down the garbage shute
|Tuesday, August 19th, 2008|
he digs a pony
fine is alive
& water & wind
a toothless drunk in front of me in queue at the yosemite village store, to the
bored cashier, in reference to his choice of beverage, which no one had criticized,
but just in case:
some people say it's piss water, but it's not! it's COORS!
the universe likes swiftness
what do you do when you're miles davis & you can't think of
anything you want to play
|Saturday, August 9th, 2008|
my latest heroes are three dear drunken poetry majors (matthew, mikhail, meagan)
kicking with all their might at the sign to mirror lake trailhead till it snaps and
it is thrown like a dead thing to the ground and they run away at flash of headlamps
to climb a giant mound of dirt (which claimed m'dear matthew's shoe, at which
point he took off the other one and threw it into the dark)
mikhail singing 'dig a pony' at regular intervals, YOU CAN SYNDICATE ANY BOAT
YOU ROW! and we say it's so TRUE and drink river-cooled beers (being around
mikhail makes anything seem possible, urgent: i.e. me drinking BEER)
on tiny islands and yell at passing rafts of touristas and urge them around
'dead man's curve'
the devil has one of each named after it: postpile, backbone, horseshoe,
there is angels' camp
i put in my two weeks' and then played hookie for two days, as i haven't called
in sick once. i had to hide, though, because i can't go anywhere without
a huge green bus honking at me.
i want to stand on soapboxes and preach against religion, against the united
states, against the war, against the illusion of distinction. maya maya maya
i mumble to myself all day, but i keep waking up here, i have to wake up now,
a facile switch in relative location will not do it. maya maya maya and i
urge the days to move faster between here and there, because now doesn't
matter but here i am convinced of a slow stifling. on thursday we meet
with enda for REAL this time & he is going to give us a house to stay in
and we'll visit mikhail at week-endings. only TEN DAYS and i am free to GO.
half dome has come to mean the oppressor. In beautiful dreams we start a new tribe of
ahwahneechee and rid the forests of sign posts and the meadows of wooden
catwalks and burn down the curry buffet and shoot tranq darts at the rangers
and put them in big crates and ship em off to federal prison for impersonating
officers of The Peace, in a war on peace. make a bonfire of carved bear
statues holding WELCOME signs, manufactured in fresno. let the meadows turn
to forest again, let the forest burn & return to meadow-hood, and let the
ahwahneechee come back - let them decide how to take care of this place. it
takes care of itself, thanks.
we went to a special showing of our friend jude's show (he has a travelling
children's educational theatre troupe) at nine ayem for the rangers & found
ourselves feeling like hunter s. thompson and his brown buffalo attorney
at the d.a. convention at the flamingo. teddy roosevelt come to life screaming
BULLLY! so that his moustache goes awry.
but i am leaving and it is none of my concern, except to be glad that it is done
& I have no part in it. ten days is no time at all, no time, if i make it that way.
i should be out rambling thru the woods but it is disney woods of brer rabbit and
teeming with cartoon rangers with beanbag launchers
i am working on the perfect mix for the escape to freedom. dig a pony
already figures prominently. i will head straight for l.a., hang out with dustin
and bruce (who is going to hypnotize me to reexperience pastlives) buy a
seth book and study it, meet matt's entire family and then we will head
together to santa cruz. if for some reason that doesn't work out i think we
will try to get a little studio in l.a. somewhere with dustin and bruce
ten nine eight seven
|Friday, August 1st, 2008|
|this wish is going nowhere/Current Events
Current Events: newstrucks galore in yosemite village. i was excited to evacuate but the winds shifted,
blowing the fire away from el portal sewage treatment plant. just as long as i'm not working - i'd
have to coordinate transportation for the carless out of harm's way. i would like to help, but this
is one ship with which i will NOT go down. yo soy marinero, yo no soy capitan!
el capitan looks down in laughter. tutokanula: a woman's face - staaained with teearrssss.
we have no power, save for a tiny generator to warm our bath water, after a week in filth & one
ice cold sponge bath. it will be a month before they even think about putting the power lines
back in. the news & newspapers are LYING. i knew they lied, but knowing what's going on firsthand
& hearing what they've said on the news makes me REALLY paranoid. the only hotel with power
is the ahwahnee, because it's three hundred a night. everything else is fucked, but most of all,
we employees are fucked. we have four novena candles, which are prohibited, for light.
we have little blue cards for free meals at participating retailers (ha! two places in the valley, which
means most people can't use them much at all). it's not bad being without light, mostly, though
the bathrooms are a bit terrifying at night. i always think of elementary school and the
bloody mary game. at least we have warm water now. i went a week without bathing (as did most) &
then finally took an ice-cold sponge bath. if i didn't hate being there so much already, it would
be sort of fun. it's not the place, it's the people, the bureaucracy, the gestapo, the corporate
sponsors, the bike cops, the mounted cops, the cops in range rovers stopping to glare straight
down into your soul, see all your sins, expecting a coherent reply to a disinterested question.
i will miss the ravens, the ground squirrels (fuck tree squirrels) the chicories, the sparrows & robins & jays,
the woodpeckers & the ferns & all the trees whose names i don't know, blackberry brambles &
spotted skunks & speckle spattered fawns, the bucks wandering into camp with menace of rack, the does
standing alert. falcons diving at the car. i watched a raven eating a squirrel for ten minutes
yesterday. it had eaten all the head contents & was picking at the empty skin & its eyeholes.
the orange feral cat that visited me in the morning to sit on the hardwood floor & miaow & rub its face
on me & turn its nose up at proferred food (he eats squirrels, too)
at bibiche's mums' house in northfork, an olde mining towne. for dogs, internets, laundry, light & hot
showers. also smokeless air. we are going to go to oakhurst for shoes for matt & a purse
for me, as mine is almost useless. also: sharp suits for next thursday's business meeting with enda -
santa cruz: we are coming to inhabit you for one year. then it's sf or oakland with meagan & mikhail,
one big crazy poetry/art/music making machine.
matt's mother is funny & cool: having w.h. auden & ee cummings plastered all over the house, as well as tacky
signs & tchotchkes. there is a sign by the door that says WELCOME PRIZE PATROL
last night we sat on a swinging bench & smoked & looked at the stars with no fear of the
law, took a walk in deserted downtown with a flashlight. people here are very private - they mind
their own fucking business, which i appreciate highly. THAT'S the thing - everyone knowing everyone
else's shit! small towne lyf is not for me - i can't stand knowing that ten minutes after saying or
doing anything, a thousand people have heard about it.
|Wednesday, July 23rd, 2008|
|Tuesday, May 27th, 2008|
happier & less anxious at last.
is it the place, the company i keep, or the company i
teaparties with squirrels & crows we feast on marigolds
when i walked into work the first day back everyone clapped
& cheered & i sorta pretended i didn't notice because
i don't know why they like me so much. i refuse to accept it.
a few things i've learned recently:
-the rectum is PERFECTLY ph balanced at ALL TIMES
-if a tree looks a lot like two but there is one base, it
is definitely one tree, unless they are different species,
which happens. there are siamese oak/cedar twins around
-there are at least twelve items (so few?) to be had
at walgreen's which are meant to be put in the asshole.
-sometimes, i really can talk myself or someone else
out of anything, which feels a lot like mind control.
this is also related to the fact that i absorb everyone's
upsets like a sponge when i walk into a room
i weighed myself yesterday at the 'wellness center,' because
everyone has commented on how disgustingly thin i look & i
need to gain ten pounds. i looked up the criteria for
an anorectic bmi & i exceed it. i feel fine but for how long?
still, it's a surprise that i am not sick after three
days' standing in the rain in forty degree weather (under a tree,
all wired -
the 'personal lightning safety tips' memo does not apply to me,
as i can't very well stand in the middle of the street. )
i have been eating half an avocado every day and great fistfulls
of raw almonds & such, & taking fat supplements, etc, on top
of what i usually eat. it's not my fault?
last night i drank a bit of wine with matthew & now i know for
certain that now wine turns me into a mass of tears. i lay awake
with a doom pit in the gut for hours. breathing slowly
& deeply just makes me hysterical, perhaps because the only time
i do it is when in despair.
but happier, happier.