No Title

You really want to read all of this? I don't know who's crazier me for writing this... or whomever you are for going and reading it... Think about it.







i love my Jenna




As we spent the last night on Maudlin street, goodbye house forever. Love at first sight may sound trite, but it's true you know.

As I glance over...waiting...just breathe again.
The ground is frozen. You don't belong there.
In my lap
Burrowed
Left behind
Every night
Oh I was so selfish then
Always there
Tug at the rug
Self imposed sterile existence
I will be soon
I want you to breathe again
Lift up your head
The way you turned it to face me just before you went away
Head on paw
Stiffened the back I used to rub
Oh I do love you


We're after the same rainbow's end. We were going to see the world together. It was just around the bend. Wake up. Poke your head out from behind the curtain behind me, come look outside. I wish you were soft again. I need you to be with me...in this Place. I wish I were twelve again... because then you'd only be seven. We could run around the yard together again. I'd even let you catch that squirrel this time.

Who am I going to walk with now? I'm sorry I didn't wrap you in a nicer blanket last night. I'm sorry I made you take a bath when you didn't want to. I'm sorry that I trimmed your ear hair. I'm sorry I made you drink that medicine with the old turkey baster. I'm sorry I didn't lay by you more. Most of all I'm sorry that you're gone.

...But I'm still going to the dog bakery to buy your birthday carrot cake this year. Now it really blows that yours is the same day as mine...
We were meant to be.
You weren't supposed to go yet. I don't want to bury you in a couple hours. I want you to stay asleep in your spot... and then wake up after you've gotten plenty of rest, and we'll hop on the couch when mom isn't looking, and then we'll eat all of the carrots we like! and no one will stop us and say that we need to save some for soup. And then we'll spend the rest of the day exploring around outside, and it won't be cold! and ...

I just want more day with you. I wish you would have told me earlier that you were going. I'm sorry I can't come along just yet.

...You've never been anywhere without me before... I wish I could have baked you your favorite dog biscuits one more time. The ones that I make with the heart shaped cookie cutter.

I know I don't have much to go on with this seeing as you're the only dog I ever had, but I think, I know, that you're the sweetest bestest most wonderfulest dog that ever lived. And even if I ever have another dog (for whatever reason...believe me, you'll never be replaced) I won't ever love them the same way I love you (and this is a secret...just in case it happens...which I highly doubt it will... but if it does... it'll have to be secret because we wouldn't want to hurt their feelings) ... I'll always love you more.

Come back Jenna. It's hard seeing you this way.

Puppy Love

Life is everywhere. People have babies all the time. Almost always there is someone I know who is pregnant or has a baby. I've even been so privileged as to assist in a delivery. Life comes about frequently, joyously, and even sometimes unexpectedly.The excitement builds up in an expectant mother. The anticipation is almost too much to bear. There are fears, but they always pass.

The first wail of a newborn is both a little frightening and a cause for joy. A small new person breathes their first breath of air. The body is wet, and in my experience ... very very pink. It's a wonder to see the little hairs on a newborn's head. The small fingers are all equal in size. The fragile body is wrapped tightly in a blanket, but even then it's difficult to know what to say, or how to behave, or even how to feel. Birth invariably has had a strange effect on me. It's surreal. I'm seldomly able to grasp the idea of this new teensy individual existing in the world that I know. There are faint doubts in my head surrounding the whole idea of it.



Life is easy. We're all living right now. This passing moment, every feeling, every sensation, every regret, every pain of jealousy, the agony of feeling alone, the joy of company, the promise of hope, the itch on your back, the taste in your mouth, the memories gliding through your mind, they are all a part of existence in this world. These are things we really know. We all share in them to some degree. It's a pretty thing, this beingness, even when it feels ugly.



To all good things there must come an end.

Repose.

Sleep Eternal.



Death is unavoidable. Much like birth, I am unable to comprehend it when it occurs. I never had the opportunity to try either, but here it is ... a few feet away. Death is mysterious. I don't trust it at all! Tonight my part in it was unrelated to my part in birth. I was a witness once again. That is where the relation ends. That is how it feels. That feeling is false.
The truth is much like the birth I was present for, this participation in the experience of death was also a privilege. I'm thankful that my darling waited for me before she passed. It was bittersweet to be so close to one I loved so dearly when the time came for her saddeningly slow and slightly painful departure. I look even now and half expect her soft black ears to perk up a little. Maybe, just maybe if I whisper her name her eyes will open and meet mine again... It's a beautiful falsity. I don't curse death. I welcome it for it's own sake, even so far as to remove it from life... Death is make believe, it's conjured up as something that it is not becasue we cannot explain it readily or particularly. There is no such thing as death ...only a changing of worlds.





In Memoriam

Jenna, lovely little angel who has left me to frolic the pastures of heaven and to amuse herself with the chasing of rabbits (never catching...playful chasing) and perhaps even to rest on a few beds. My wonderful Jenna... Walking up the steps and opening the door I would always hear her tail beating against the entryway wall... barely able to contain her happiness that I was home. Jenna my sweet... Pulling down the bed covers and climbing onto the pillow when no one was looking. Jenna my baby... Taking her food and eating under the table at dinnetime. Jenna my n-n-enna... always there when I needed a hug. Jenna... I miss you.

The Elysian fields called her to play and I'm certain that I'll get to pet her again one day. I hope they have carrots there! They were her favorite... just like her mommy.






That's my baby... The one on the left.

Quote of the day

"Le premier symptome de amour vrai chez un jeune homme, est la timidite, chez une jeune fille, est la hardiesse."
Don't judge me, I'm lovesick today. ... : )

Buried

I'm getting out, and climbing back in. I miss feeling a thousand things at once, being headstrong, not being a full on adult. He symbolizes my girlhood, the one I gave to a black and white creature stuffed with softness. Oh... they're one and the same? That's is true.
I feel a little bad...
I feel a little bad for the one with the mortgage, the responsibilities, the one with their head on straight. The one with everything in place... who invited me in... but it's too restricted there. I've always said I wanted to be put in a glass case, on display, a soulless mannequin with nothing to say, a perfectly groomed, well dressed monster. There's no passion there. The trophy in the box isn't the same as the little girl with mismatched socks who also "likes fall." I'm tired of being someone's perfect accessory. I'm just glad we started out by explaining to each other exactly what we were doing together and why. Mutual using is an easy thing to get out of... the guidelines were perfectly clear. A meaningless partnership... two people... together out of spite. Trying to prove something to the past... they "no longer care about." Neither of us would be here if that were true.
My eyes are sore from crying, I hate when people catch me.
I hate when people catch me... I've been caught.

Goodbye, I'm sure you'll have millions of dollars one day.

The problem with giving your whole self away is that there's a price for it, but you can't ever pay it because you have nothing more to spare... a person requires another, the one they're giving themselves to. That person is supposed to give a small share to make up the difference. They pay the toll so you don't have to. So you don't do crazy things. Then you get to go down the road together. Otherwise you're stuck there, walking the way alone, a fool.



If you don't like me, don't look at me.

I was not meant to write tonight...

Dreaming fuzzily... and in muted tones

I watched the swirling clouds for awhile, woke up to the night, re-entangled myself in blankets, and woke up again, this time enchanted with the hours others pass through banally dreaming.

Hopefully one day this mess will all get sorted out. Things aren't always the way I planned them to be. I deal poorly with plans, especially the last minute sort.

I've said it before...I'll say it again. "Run, run, see if I care, see if I care (I do.) If you don't like me... then don't look at me... there must be somebody else who can take your gaze away. If you don't want me, you don't have to have me. I just thought you might feel the same. That's all."

I have to say hello to an old friend. And then I must go. I just stopped by to tell you that I'm going, ...it won't happen again. I swear.

Don't say I didn't warn you. Just don't say I didn't warn you..."Like a jealous little sister, when you had your time you spent it crying. I may be cold, I may be out of anyone's control, but I have my feeling of superiority to comfort me. "

You're drunker quicker... and you're sicker even quicker.... I was waiting for something to fall on you... so what shall I call you now? I will never say I told you so...but I knew, I knew, it was something that would happen to you. No, I told you so. I told you so.

I'm sorry if I have confused...anyone, but there is no person to which I am venturing through these waves for. I'm more of a floating island. I go where I want to, unencumbered by the fixed ground. I'll take company on my next misadventure...but please, don't try and set up shop.

The things you love. Why does someone always try and stop me from having the things in life that would make me happy? Have the pleasure of saying what you mean. To sum it up... maybe my weekend wasn't so good...

Aside from one detail I cannot mention in particulars however, it makes me glow and brim with smiles just thinking about. Sometimes life is kinder to me than other times.

So Happy

So Limbo. Saturday, what to do? Oh I know, but I have little desire to commit.

Shouting "I don't care" doesn't particularly convince me

You cannot call it your own. I always run circles up around in my head.
"A long, long time. Still you drive me out of my mind."

I hear the flucuations in the intonation. I know already. I always did. Lying is always a very foolish thing to attempt with me.

(But what street was she walking down?

As the street grew clearer, I saw it was in Paris. It was a boulevard.

And some months later, that first sentence finally became

"It was a hot, peaceful optimistic sort of day in September. It was about eleven in the morning I remember and I was drifting down the Boulevard St. Michel thoughts rising in my head like little puffs of smoke when suddenly…"

And I had to figure out - suddenly what? Somebody stops her, of course. The man she will fall in love with? Undecided. She's an actress and the man who stops her is an actor and they already know each other and they go to a café when suddenly again...

She sees her lover, an Italian Diplomat…." And I was off.)

-excerpt from The Dud Avocado, which was read by me....at age thirteen and had a profoundly negative effect on my overall character and person. The lack of morals is astounding, awe inspiring if you will. As a overt hedonist. I highly recommend it.

Well, it's a marvelous night for a moondance.....

Can I just have one more moondance with you? -a song that never gets old.



"Choke me in the shallow water, before I get too deep."



With the sun shining, she walks on petals onto the dizzying grain, picking up splinters along the way. She knows how to pull them out. -This is all that I have to say.Ooooh and I smitten by Earth Art.


Medicine Wheel, Stan Herd.

I'm still in love with Morrissey... And made out of glass.

The world is lazy, but you and me we're just crazy......I'm still in love with Best Coast too.

Can I make the sun shine today?
Call me psychic but posting something as blatantly as I did was bound to get me in trouble.

"If you have to tell people the truth, make them laugh, otherwise they'll kill you." - Oscar Wilde.

I'm forty percent paper mache.

I have to look like I know what I am doing, at the very least from a distance.... and I can manage that just fine.

So another monday morning.... and it's raining... but I have the new copy of The Paris Review in my hands... about to run and get the new issue of Art in America... so much for studying. It's gonna be a good day. Possibly...Possibly not... at the moment it's looking up. Hopefully the good mood will continue. I like my whims. They're so variant.

I wasn't joking about the paper mache.

The path goes further.

Kerrie is crushing. Kerrie is a bit confused. Nature overrides and guides you to the other treasure. It's the one she over looked. The one that evades, that pushes and pulls, but it's at the point that there's still time to pull away. I'm game.

Set to music. I am taken over.

Sheets of empty canvas, untouched sheets of clay

Her legs spread out before me as her body once did

All five horizons revolved around her soul

As the earth to the sun

Now the air I tasted

And breathed has taken a turn

And all I taught her was everything

I know she gave me all that she wore

And now my bitter hands chafe beneath the clouds

Of what was everything?

Oh, the pictures have all been washed in black, tattooed... Everything

Hold on to the thread

The currents will shift

Glide me towards...You know something's left

You don't have to stray

Tho oceans away

Waves roll in my thoughts

Hold tight the ring...The sea will rise...

Please stand by the shore...

I will be...I will be there once more...

And we're all allowed

To dream of the next

The next, time we touch...

Straight outta the package

The introductory twinges were sublime. The yearning was film quality.
But now... knowledge ended my youth. I'm old. I feel like a grandma... who lacks any awe inpsiring youth filled qualities. I still have hope. There is still hope in the past ..and.. what remains. "You say that never want me to leave, but you're gone so gone." "You say that you never want it to end, so I stick around." "but now you're gone so gone." "You say that you want to be more than friends, but now you're gone, so gone." "You say that you don't have time for for me, so now I am gone, so gone."
I am listening to Mumford and Sons, hey female friends no matter how long I've known you... or how little... Let's get drunk in Ireland and tell lies to men. Come with. I need it. (Side note please pay pour moi... make checks payable to cash.) Let's pash with someone who is gallant and Celtic.

Here are some of the lyrics to Mumford and Sons lyrics to White Blank Page: Check it.
"Can you lie next to her and give her your heart as well as your body? And can you lie next to her and encompass your love, your love as well as your folly."
"And loving you with my my heart, and tell you what was my fault in loving you with all of my heart." "A white blank page, and a swelling rage. You did not think, when you sent me to the brink. You desire my attention and denied my affection." "And tell me what was my fault in loving you with my whole heart?"


Mumford in Sons. Like I says those Irish boys.... mhm.

"Hope(ful) Romantic" (I'm such a nerd)

The Junglecat paws at you oh so delicately.
Pretty wild stuff.
I am really wasting your time right now. It's sunday, I'm bored. What of it?
I keep asking... for a show, a way to present myself in an innovative light. And I keep getting a no.

Eὐτέρπη - I am the Junglecat that Always wins. je gagne souvent pour sporte.

We've been friends (and ya.) for a long long time, but i dont know how to make you mine. So i'll try yea i'll try to make you mine, all mine.
We've been friends for a long long time and still you drive me out of my mind (Which happened... oh so long ago.) So I'll try yea i'll try to make you mine all mine.
we've been friends for a long long time
but i don't know how to make you mine
so i'll try yea i'll try to make you mine all mine
oooh baby..0


When I’m with my guy and he watches the pretty girls go by
well it hurts so bad deep inside that I wish that I could die
not a word do I say
I just look the other way
cause that’s the way boys are
that’s the way boys are
when he treats me rough and he acts as though he doesn’t care
well I never tell him that he is being so unfair
cause he loves me and I know it
he is just afraid to show it

cause that’s the way boys are
that’s the way boys arethat’s the way boys are
oh oh when he wants to be alone
I just let him because I know soon enough
he’ll come back to me

when we have a fight and I don’t think that I’ll see him anymore
but before I know it there he is
standing at my doorwell I let him kiss me then
cause I know he wants me back
cause that’s the way boys are
That's Best Coast: Psychedelic pop, which is my schtick. Music has a profound effect on my psyche (hence the pyschedelic ...umm stuff... i am into.) Let's journey on this muddied road.. gathering what we can, taking what we want... the end of line is unimportant, it's the road, and the way you travel upon it, which has bearing to the completed masterpiece which is your hollow, sullied, jumbled, euphoric life. Shroomin' it are we??






and I am very furiously engorged with hunger... Je pense que cigarettes are in order. Phlem.

Oh pretty baby,

You'd be like HEAVEN to touch.



PASH! THE MOST Rational thing is PASH!!!

If it's quite alright.
Fugeessssssss. Trust in me when I say it's ok.

Reversion-eleven. Clinging to my sister's friends.

When I step out into the open, all is well and perfectly in a natural order. I gaze upon the highest plateau. I delve farther into the deepest crevice and what remains, what is left in my perception is the only thing which ever was... from the earliest time.... from the incarnation. The birth.

Knowin' nothin' in life but to be legit.

A car pulls up, who can it be?
It's a fresh El Camino rollin' Kilo G
He rolls down the window and he starts to say"It's all about makin' G.T.A."'
Cause the boyz in the hood are always hard
Come talkin' that trash and we'll pull your card
Bored as hell and I wanna get ill
So I go to a place where my homeboyz chill
The fellas out there tryna make that dolla'I pulled up in my six-fo' Impala

This always make me laugh, I thought it would be a good opener.

Lightnotes. Moisture.
With an unexpected spring in my step, I walk. One foot goes in front of the other, one foot goes in front of the other, while my mind is consumed by the motion. There is nothing else to think about, it's not worth it. Actions have an incredible power over thought and speech for me. Movement has an abundance of weight in my imagination. It crushes everything else. Often, this has a negative effect on my life day to day. I do. I don't not do. I run, I dance, I talk to myself sometimes, but it's never enough motion. Maybe it's time to just jump...back into the stagnant pond. Murky, murky, mossy, mossy, it's refreshing. At least it's saltwater. My knowing that is lucky. Wait, no, luck has nothing to do with it. I discovered it all on my own long ago. But that's besides the point. the point is, something like this: no. yes, yes, no, no.
well the point I was trying to make is.... I know I can't drink any of it, no matter how thirsty I am. "Have I confused anyone yet?" "yes? Brilliant." "It's just as lost on me as anyone else." (Not really... I am the keeper of the key.... If you want in you have to go through me.)

Leo- The Tigress. Holy Dances.

"Sorry I cannot hear you... I'm kinda busy.
I don't wanna think anymore."

Directions. The pull.
The threshold. Power-power trips, I'm under your control in every sense. What should I do? why how? What should I do if........................
What should I do if.........
And what if ____ should happen......?
Like a lost puppy, I wander from here, picking up on all sorts of concealed scents.
Evidence. Evidence, Evidence, evidence, so obvious and deceiving. Seemingly negative, oh it was... it was very filling.
" I'm not taking any calls cause I'll be dancing."
What if I.... what should I then proceed to do?
I can do nothing without consultation. Helpless fool.
Am I given the direction I seek? (I'm not telling[no{you suck}].)
"Hello, hello, I cannot hear a thing."

Within The Utopian Framework :

What am I talking about? What am I thinking about? I'm at a loss of all and nothing. Dumfounded. A precious mode is obliterated. A treasured mood is transformed and ultimately shelved very far behind a dozen other cannisters holding all sorts of feelings that never should see the light of the day. People, people go away.
The People's Commissariat for Enlightenment...

Hard edged geometric purity.

Why live in the world when you can live in your head?

I sit and I think : If only it were done.

More than a bit.
Sidenote:
I don't care if monday's blue
Tuesday's grey and wednesday too
Thursday i don't care about you
It's friday i'm in love

Monday you can fall apart
Tuesday wednesday break my heart
Thursday doesn't even start
It's friday i'm in love

Saturday wait
And sunday always comes too late
But friday never hesitate...

I don't care if monday's black
Tuesday wednesday heart attack
Thursday never looking back
It's friday i'm in love

Monday you can hold your head
Tuesday wednesday stay in bed
Or thursday watch the walls instead
It's friday i'm in love

Saturday wait
And sunday always comes too late
But friday never hesitate...

Dressed up to the eyes
It's a wonderful surprise
To see your shoes and your spirits rise
Throwing out your frown
And just smiling at the sound
And as sleek as a shriek
Spinning round and round
Always take a big bite
It's such a gorgeous sight
To see you eat in the middle of the night
You can never get enough
Enough of this stuff
It's friday
I'm in love -Robert Smith

That Place

Quelquefois Il y a vieux.
This past.
Il n'ya pas sympa.
That forsaken past.
C'est la vie.
It is torn between two crevices, hewn out of everything false that the jury has imagined.
Ce n'est pas joli, exactly as planned.
It is calculated and tempered and examined, and it doesn't fit and it always will and won't.

Yes, Morocco.

My take on the poetry of Dadaism:
When you make-believe, small shifts repeat thanks. I write joyful expectation. If most relationships opened gratitude, they'd stop cycles. Stomach : open, tip, visualize, clairvoyance. Look, remove famine. Refocus in negative.

Tsk Tsk Tsk

What did I say? Delve far into long term memory. I don't ask this politely.

They Never Listen.

Just Like Honey

Listen to the girl

As she takes on half the world

Moving up and so alive

In her honey dripping beehive, beehive

This girl, so good

It's so good

Walking back to you

And the hardest thing that I can do

For you

That I can do for you

For you


I'd be a plastic toy


I'd be a plastic toy


For you


Eating up the scum


Is the hardest thing to do


Just like honey


For you





Just like honey lyrics-The Jesus and Mary Chain-Psychocandy

I don't have much else to say. Keep a look out for a photo filled post starring my pajamas, but only if that would be agreeable .

Sprouts

When I'm with you:
"The world is lazy, but you and me, we're just crazy
But when I'm with you I have fun
yeah, when I'm with you I have fun

Ever since I was a little girl...

I hate..." (Best Coast)

I'm terribly fond of taking stuffed animals around town with me. It's very Sebastian Flyte. "Charming, but self-destructive and ultimately tragic."

"He went away and you hung around and bothered me everynight. When I wouldn't go out with you, you said things that...weren't very nice." (The Raveonettes)

Est-ce que Tu es Malentendants?

This is your horoscope ardent admirer Lundi au Vendredi :
Please stop insisting you have nothing left to live for. The phrase you're looking for is "never had a reason to live."
Your future as a songwriter ends almost before it begins when you find that someone has already compared the depth, power, and beauty of their love to an ocean.
All of those hurtful kerrie jokes will come back to haunt you this Friday when you suddenly run out of hurtful kerrie jokes to tell.
For centuries fire was a sacred symbol of vitality and strength. Keep this in mind as you roll around frantically on your kitchen floor this Thursday.
A deadly game of cat and mouse will play out this week when you spend several hours pawing curiously at your rival.
Some people believe your house in Heaven is filled with all the things you lost while on earth, which explains the dead pets lying everywhere.
Unexpected and startling events in the coming days will compel you to become more familiar with your monthly menstrual cycle.

Sketchy.

An array of frightening nervous laughter flees from one wall to another.
YOU ARE DYING.






My hands bleed. Poisoned volumes trickle in drops down my purple fingers, resting near the tips of my manicured fingernails.
Don't discount the small amount.
It's just a drip to the eye.




I would bet the cocoa fifty in my back pocket it's enough to stop the continuous melody, running through your body.
Nonstop motion, finally collapses.
The end is never soon enough.

The turtle-dove's necklace - Tu Es Un Neuneu

Far away, constant pounding, so much to say.
It's better that way.
Good to be, good to be on another hill
No sparks seen above her head. She only feels the surface shift
With colors appearing under her eyelids, vivid.
Forgotten.

Laissez-nous vieillir ensemble et mourir en même l'heure,
À perdre moi vie ou de perdre moi amour, c'est le cauchemar J'ai fait tourner de.

Kill Lies All

I don't listen to what art critics say. I don't know anybody who needs a critic to find out what art is.

"I wanted to bring the art absolutely up to date, to retrieve it from art history and give it life.I tried to trespass beyond that invisible barrier that no one is allowed to cross; by my acts encourage the individual to expierience it anew and to challenge it, deal with it and thus see it in its dynamic raw state as it was being made and transformed, not as a piece of history. "


The Peacock Throne.

And to all my dear, earnest admirers, I thank you for your support and constructive criticism, you've pushed me to my greastest heights. I thank you with all of my moist, turquoise soul. I beg others to appreciate my musings and collected pieces as an homage to life, as a tribute to death, and also as a mockery of what is tangible.


Look at me, eyes awake, as I shove twenty grams of white through your nasal cavity. Push, thrust, my pinky through the sharp hairs, your brain it soaks up the fluff, and I feel your movements, soft, then shaking, ending rough. Snowflakes landing in the corners of your eyes, they melt and pour downward. Pupils freed, now explode. White, white as blow.
My limp friend... This is the beginning. You've never felt so real.

The Radiant Child

SAMO does not cause cancer in laboratory animals.


To Repel Ghosts


(Where is Taki?)

My experience has shown me that the artist is a person much respected by the poor because they have circumvented the need to exert the body, even of time, to live off what appears to be the simplest bodily act. This is an honest way to rise out of the slum, using one’s sheer self as the medium, the money earned rather a proof pure and simple of the value of that individual, The Artist. This is a basic class distinction in the perception of art where a picture your son did in jail hangs on your wall as a proof that beauty is possible even in the most wretched; that someone who can make a beautiful thing can’t be all bad; and that beauty has an ability to lift people as a Vermeer copy done in a tenement is surely the same as the greatest mural by some MFA. An object of art is an honest way of making a living, and this is much a different idea from the fancier notion that art is a scam and a ripoff. The bourgeoisie have, after all, made it a scam. But you could never explain to someone who uses God’s gift to enslave that you have used God’s gift to be free.

Not unlike melting butter, separating whey.

Caught inside,
The keeper of the key.
Well born and raised
Without the want to leave.
What a locked up crypt
It felt to me.

Silver Zebra Times

-The blurred colors of the street lights overhead and neon signs as you lay your angel head against the leather seat, feeling tears and liquid build up in your vertebral column.

We were sleeping till you came along
With your diamond heart
You let us in the wooden house
To share in all the wealth



Seven figures leap the hungry maws
The beast it comes to you
He's a hunter for a lonely heart
In the season of the sun



Where you thinking that you have to run now
With the beating of a diamond heart?
Hang on to the things that you're supposed to say
Billions of stars that open to your fate