april bleak

blech blech blech
i am tired of living alone
i have a sore throat
there is no one to date
which really means
working in an oppressive environment without people who love me and think i'm gorgeous just the way i am
sucks.

ugh, today i'm bleeding and biking and walking and crying.
and things like this: where do i come from?
what's up that i need to move around and one of the most comforting things to do
is work on making a family tree
back to the 1600's
maybe just a reminder that i am connected to things
real things
real people and bodies and histories
places, villages, houses, love affairs, deaths

my friends are having babies and cancer,
twisting their ankles,
laughing,
working on their new house.
cancer cancer cancer cancer cancer cancer cancer.
i'm still smoking cigarettes. it's true.
it's not how i want to die; that's true, too.

i made a big decision in moving here
that was a little about not following relationships as much
you know, staying in the bigger web, southern oregon,
the wooded edges of the beast's belly,
but after that somnolent sleepy lazy fallow summer at versailles, itchy hands, sharp mind,
i am here,
why do i have to learn by swinging from one side to another? extreme to extreme?
i guess it could be more extreme, true.

i guess, here's the questions.
one, how do we love ourselves. [with everything else that's true, too]
two, what are the effective points of intervention from the beast's belly we're living in.
three, how do you decide if something is just too hard, just too much?
four, and what of the grass? and the darkness? and love? and happiness? and stars?
five, i miss you i miss you i miss you i miss you i miss you
six, if you pull out or imagine a picture of you as a tyke, 3 or 4, what would you say? apologize for? get them excited about? promise? undo?

then there's things like this:
https://www.facebook.com/events/1379336189055386/
and this:
http://www.historyisaweapon.com/defcon1/lordeopenlettertomarydaly.html
and a cat at my calf
papers spread
goosebumps
shoulders hunched
let's dance, shall we?
let's dance
let's dance

these are totally some of our friends

http://farmpunk.blogspot.com/

more soon. dance camp is intense and great and weird and there are many more specific things to say, like today i spent 5 minutes curled up sucking my thumb and then moved about it, like floating interviews and learning release again and again and again, my first aerial class today was so fucking hard i thought i might cry, getting inspired by this amazing studio art-space collective and super down-to-earth creators. more. i am dancing till tired then scheming and planning. i have ideas. i wanna hear yours too.

also i am kind of lonely here, moments between busyness, wow where are my friends and my cats? maybe i will make some friends; maybe the ocean.

analgesic anhedonia superman in appollonia
all the beliefs you got that no one told ya
and 30 thou in the form of an affirmative shoulder

this is it - $$$
pong pong clack pong pong clack
ching ching brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrring
oh yeah, all that

the state'll never end in my lifetime
i'll just keep applying for grants







breathe thru yr nose and kill yr idols

crickets, new hamshire

screaming, car brakes, creaking spires.
disintegration has noises that have no place to go
they ricochet off walls at random--one enters my window
where, like a spider hungry, i wait
once eaten i say i have disintegrated
now and again under and over these sounds
i havent seen any of your faces in quite a long time
tell me where i am:
silence.
ill ask a stranger
instead.

Warning, heavy stuff ahead

Saying no to society somehow
has lead me to saying "yes"
In hotel rooms 
To rich white men

feeling bad
feeling bad about the money
my body, the blood on the sheets
their desperate breath as they try to approach
I was writing a poem to salvage a little of myself today
When I missed my next client for 5pm in Chelsea
I lost track of time
Or it lost me
I am lost

(All this desire has been thrown upon me, yet I have none)

I want to throw up
and release this fucked up blockage
See it come out in physical forms
In chunks out of me
I just want the grey out of me

-292 bank account dollars of red numbers
Thousands owed to the state
To friends to hospitals
Everything is red and stuck
But I am blue and trying to move

(For the record, I did not drop out love left me first)

Once again the dead numbers clench
the living red things inside my chest
I worry so the chemicals of worry flow in my blood
My substance is raddled by something vacant
So vacant I can feel it
I turn around
But see nothing

Have not laughed deeply for many many weeks
Ive gone ahead with tradition and blame myself,
assume this unlaughing is my fault
Since the world seems to be laughing
Since the world kind of smiles in a way
Since the world pretends it is getting away with this
It's my fault, plenty of people are transcending this very moment.
These are Decisions I've made, Wounds I earned
I am a child still living under the cocktail table
Looking at adult legs from safety and they drink because
It's our fault we can't convert war into something else

I am trying so hard
But my heart is in a debt of shadows
Obnoxious immaterial dramas
Silly blood silly breath silly ghosts
Sun gnashing at my skin
Eyes drifting into tears
I promise more light to come
Just not today
I know no one likes to see this

No thing
No mouth, eye, dick or bird or breeze
Has said hello to me all day
I go online to download a hello 
from a stranger with a torso and splayed legs 
With tracing paper I outline
this affirmation from the screen
and Now I have something kind of real to show that
I just might have been seen

I go online to say hello to myself
Taking pictures and making silhouettes
Importing other silhouettes to mine
Suggestions of friendship, of beauty
Suggestions of love, of bodies
Of caress and forgetting my name
Suggestions of substance.
The possibility of a new and proper world 
Is more powerful than this actual world.
If the photo suggest I feel good and beautiful
Then maybe will actually feel good and beautiful

In the mirror 
I think about fame and my Art work
If I could polish my desperation 
Into a stand up show
Or a performance of some kind
Of some brutal truth 
Then via fame I am saved
Polish my pain til it turns to mirror
A mirror reflecting something of power
Then I could 
Be the freak on stage
Loved by muggles and men alike.
Then I could be on the cover of Out magazine or
Vogue, say, and have that look
Like I always knew I would be part of the club.
The world will clap and renounce ever rejecting me.
The enemy will be kind of like a friend.

lovin my blood

i want to shout it from the rooftops! today, as expected, i started bleeding (in prep for the new moon tomorrow...it's already been a cycle of the moon since rosh hashanah on 3rd beach in lapush with stam bex and elz), a few days after having used fertility awareness method (FAM) as birth control. i wasn't unprotected, i was protected by my own knowledge of my own body! fuck yeah!

also, if anyone wants a kombucha mother-- we have some pretty little babies ready to leave.

also, happy birthday to justin, our little boogerbutt:

first post in months!

a good spanish word that nobody uses is "chispiante" which literally means "sparky". i'm not even sure i'm spelling it right anymore.
does nobody use it because it's not even a real word?
me and my chilean friends used it between 10 and 100 times a couple years ago. so it's not completely fabricated like the stuff they have at the macys in the shopping center in pittsburgh.
by which we presume i mean that it has some emotion to it, love even, a meaning deeper than the dollar or literal communication.
chispiante is a clever-sharp combo with a side of new.
prometheus was the only one to do something chispiante, as above and also literally, at the same time. ha.

what can i say? pittsburgh is seeping into my veins like jungle juice at a frat party. i could be soberer (metaphorically), but i'm not doing much about it, although everybody around me is doing their part by either dropping me a ladder or putting some distance between themselves and this trainwreck. or at least that's how it feels.
if i could only relax.
life is a state of mind. i'll be happy when i'm relaxed when i'll be happy. i'll relax when i can relax. being home? not actually helping. my fault for sure.

today at the park i met a pleasant fellow. a 31yrold asian cmu grad student. loves computer programming and economics. grand ambition - to write programs for faster-than-human trading companies, make millions.
i had to ask: what will you do with all that money? buy a fancy car?
no, he said, i think i'll buy lots of gold and then bury it with me in one of those things.
a sarcophagus?
yeah.

what happened to my optimism?