Reinvention

Tension

2012-02-08T09:53:00.000-08:00

Radiating from my body,

from my bones,

and from your body,

in perfect mirroring synchronicity.

In my mind, I imagine that time is different now,

but it's a lie.

Revolution

2012-01-28T18:54:00.000-08:00

You say you want a revolution, well, you know...

We all want to change the world.

You tell me that it's Evol-ution, well, you know...

We all want to change the world.

But when you talk about destruction,

don't you know you can count me out?

Don't you know it's gonna be alright,

it's gonna be alright,

it's gonna be alright...

Strawberry Fields Forever!

2012-01-28T18:40:00.000-08:00

I am so sick and tired of my job.

...afterthought...

I may have just found my escape...

Fallin', yes, I am fallin',

and she keeps callin' me back again...

Rain

2012-01-24T13:16:00.000-08:00

Splashing, splattering, spluttering---

Cold-Process - First Batch

2012-01-10T19:15:00.000-08:00

Soap making is DEFINITELY my cup of tea.

Wrath

2012-01-09T11:01:00.001-08:00

Curling, twisting,

eating me alive.

Cleaning Day

2012-01-09T11:00:00.000-08:00

Opened windows,

icy air,

clear vision

and unsung bravery.

Gutted

2011-12-29T12:04:00.000-08:00

Empty, on this grayest of days,

and yet, I should feel happier,

and embrace the freedom I've been given.

Cold

2011-11-28T15:38:00.000-08:00

Inside,

and the afternoon light has not yet muted

for the clamor of the black night escalating.

Silent, icy stars blink nightly,

while the chill invades my dreams,

and you toss and turn beside me with restlessness.

But for now, we are awake,

and together,

though not touching,

and every so often,

you turn to brighten my mind with your warm smiles.

Actually, I think I might just have the bottle to myself...

2011-10-12T14:40:00.000-07:00

I can be alone, yeah,

I can watch a sunset on my own,

I can be alone.

Sitting in restaurants,

thought we were so grown-up,

but I know now that we were not the people

that we turned out to be.

Disease

2011-07-22T10:15:00.000-07:00

And so the dizzying downhill,
and so on,
and so on.

The ache,
the luscious pounding of blood,
and the accompanying burn.

The frothy illness of the belly,
fear lurking in every bone,
(was that a twinge, or imagination?)

A beautiful thing to see, really,
the crimson against her waxy complexion,
and when they wheeled her out,
she felt no pain.

One heart, one bed, two bosoms, and one troth.

2011-07-13T10:16:00.000-07:00

Old pages of this blog whisper of a friendship,

a secret love,

an impossible hope.

This secret love of mine was shared

(impossibly)

and so we were wedded.

We sleep by each other's side each night,

legs and arms twined

so that if you tried to make out who was who

I think you'd have a hard time of it.

It's strange to remember the days past,

how we once were two separate people.

I never felt so whole as I do now.

He is me and I am him,

and together, with God,

we are the world.

Gone

2011-01-23T11:18:00.000-08:00

These fleeting morning hours

pass too quickly--

the sweet embrace is more often a memory

than a reality.

Sallie Ford

2010-12-06T09:18:00.000-08:00

Just like they took away the Polaroid picture,

they're going to take away anything that means something.

Today I think I saw 10,000 cell phones,

but not one decent conversation.

Like a Drug

2010-12-01T08:44:00.000-08:00

You don't need no coffee in ya,

you don't need no paper.

You don't need no cig-ar-ettes!

It's all in your mind, yeah,

it's all in your mind, yeah,

it's all in your mind!

You just need a body

next to your body,

and that body

maybe could be mine?

You say I'm like a drug, baby,

you say I'm like a drug.

I may not kill you,

but I'll make you wanna die.

So don't get addicted, y'all,

don't get addicted...

Lonely

2010-10-21T15:59:00.000-07:00

Autumn brings rain and a gray shade to your walls,

but I remember how your skin was gold in the summer sun.

Seven months and nine days.

2010-10-12T08:56:00.000-07:00

Another day, another day, another day until

we end this life and arm ourselves with patience and good will.

'Til the world's cut up like an orange,

and nothing rhymes with orange.

Monday

2010-10-04T09:51:00.000-07:00

Alas, poor wench,

Through what mine of patience must thou work

Ere thou know'st good hour more!

Deadening

2010-09-29T09:51:00.000-07:00

I'm tired,

weary to the bone.

And my head is spinning and burning and crashing.

I've got to get a planner and hang it 'round my neck,

like a millstone.

It...is...dragging...me...down.

I've changed my mind about genders...

2010-09-23T11:48:00.001-07:00

I want a little girl.

Irony at Work

2010-09-15T08:44:00.001-07:00

I approach the woman occupying the booth with a friendly smile.

"What can I get you to dr---" I begin.

"Water," she snaps, turning back to the two women seated beside her.

"It's the community that matters to me!" she exclaims to them. "Some people don't know how to build a community, but I think, if everyone was more open to the people around them, we'd have the loving community I dream of!"

Let's Make This Official

2010-09-13T10:00:00.000-07:00

Dear The World,

We are going to get married and live together until we die.

Love,

M&M

Ragnarok

2010-09-09T12:34:00.000-07:00

Those four eyes darkened by the burning Face

Of the bright lady of the sky, now saw

The milder circles of each other's gaze

crowned with curls of glossy golden hair.

And as the steel-blue eyes of the first Man

Saw answering lights in Embla's lapis eyes

The red blood Loki set to spring in them

Flooded hot faces. Then he saw that she

Was like himself, yet other; then she saw

His smiling face, and by it, knew her own---

And so they stared and smiled, and the gods smiled

to see their goodly work, so fair begun

In recognition and in sympathy.

Then Ask stepped forward on the printless shore

And touched the woman's hand, who clasped fast his.

Speechless they walked away along the line

Of the sea's roaring, in their listening ears.

Behind them, first upon the level sand

A line of darkening prints, filling with salt,

First traces in the world, of life and time

And love, and mortal hope, and vanishing.

Night-time Whimsy

2010-09-01T23:19:00.000-07:00

Let us run onto a moonlit meadow.

We can embrace there, beneath the baobab tree.

What I wouldn't give to be with you tonight.

Noisy Neighbor

2010-08-28T22:47:00.000-07:00

Bang your broom on the ceiling again.

I'll think it is the pounding of a heart.

Your cries are echoes of mine.

I suffer mornings most of all.

2010-08-04T11:45:00.000-07:00

By ten o'clock, I'm back in bed,

fighting the jury in my head.

Gone

2010-07-29T10:13:00.000-07:00

A casual kiss,

a puff of smoke,

you disappeared.

Your imagination warned you about the ice.

You swallowed the lie.

Believing what you want to believe is a dangerous business.

I will admit

--the bottle of Apathy hidden in the back of that cold and dusty cupboard--

I drowned my sorrows in her again and again.

The times I left her were discouraging.

The passion that resulted found me slamming your glass cage with forget-me-nots.

As you can imagine, there was no result, and I returned to Apathy, clasping her to my bosom like Cleopatra's asp.

The Bride Stripped Bare By Her Bachelors, Even

2010-07-26T22:37:00.000-07:00

I am not waiting for tonight!

No, I will box your ears,

and leave you here stripped bare.

Writer's Block

2010-07-20T10:41:00.000-07:00

It's always seemed, at least to me,

that pretty things, like poetry,

should come to me quite naturally,

but they don't.

Once upon a time, last night.

2010-07-14T23:22:00.000-07:00

The dark makes little difference to the blind, observed the woman.

She was lying on her belly, crouched in the grass, concealed by the darkness.

Nearly blind, she could not see the stars, save one. And that was a planet. Venus. Goddess of Love.

She wished her own true love would happen upon the midnight garden where she lay.

The neighbor rattled a squeaky door frame, and the woman shuddered. And prayed that no skunks would visit her resting place tonight. Funny, she noticed, it's a bit like being dead and buried. And then she pondered being buried in her own backyard, and fancied that she would not like that at all.

The woman could not sleep. Not inside the house. Not outside the house.

"Would you, could you, with a fox?

Would you, could you, in a box?"

"I would not, could not with a fox!

I would not, could not in a box!"

The old poems are springing into her wavering thoughts.

"Hush now," she murmured.

2010-06-17T15:41:00.000-07:00

Time is a temptress.

She weaves promises while we watch, and unwinds them while we sleep.

Try to escape her. She'll have you clinging to her--begging her, "More, Time!"

We must kill Time together.

Shakespeare Improves the Mind

2010-06-12T08:46:00.000-07:00

Art thou gone so? Love, Lord, ay, Husband, Friend!
I must hear from thee every day in the hour,
For in a minute there are many days:
O, by this count I shall be much in years
Ere I again behold my Romeo!

Rain, rain, go away...

2010-06-02T15:23:00.000-07:00


THE DAY is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.	5

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary.	10

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.

8:10 AM

2010-06-01T08:10:00.000-07:00

It is the first day of summer. If yesterday was anything to brag about, I might venture that this will be a powerful one. Powerful just feels right in this context. I might say amazing or beautiful or captivating----the alphabet continues. But I'll stick with my first thought.

A toast, to finding proper work as soon as I can! -Nicholas Nickleby

The Importance of Being Earnest

2010-05-28T12:15:00.000-07:00

Algernon. How are you, my dear Ernest? What brings you up to town?

Jack. Oh, pleasure, pleasure! What else should bring one anywhere? Eating as usual, I see, Algy!

Algernon. [Stiffly.] I believe it is customary in good society to take some slight refreshment at five o’clock. Where have you been since last Thursday?

Jack. In the country.

Algernon. What on earth do you do there?

Jack. When one is in town one amuses oneself. When one is in the country one amuses other people. It is excessively boring.

Algernon. My dear fellow, the way you flirt with Gwendolen is perfectly disgraceful. It is almost as bad as the way Gwendolen flirts with you.

Jack. I am in love with Gwendolen. I have come up to town expressly to propose to her.

Algernon. I thought you had come up for pleasure?… I call that business.

Jack. How utterly unromantic you are!

Algernon. I really don’t see anything romantic in proposing. It is very romantic to be in love. But there is nothing romantic about a definite proposal. Why, one may be accepted. One usually is, I believe. Then the excitement is all over. The very essence of romance is uncertainty. If ever I get married, I’ll certainly try to forget the fact.

Jack. I have no doubt about that, dear Algy. The Divorce Court was specially invented for people whose memories are so curiously constituted.

Algernon: You behave as if you were married to her already. You are not married to her already, and I don’t think you ever will be.

Jack. Why on earth do you say that?

Algernon. Well, in the first place girls never marry the men they flirt with. Girls don’t think it right.

Jack. Oh, that is nonsense!

Algernon. It isn’t. It is a great truth. It accounts for the extraordinary number of bachelors that one sees all over the place. In the second place, I don’t give my consent.

---

Jack. [Nervously.] Miss Fairfax, ever since I met you I have admired you more than any girl… I have ever met since… I met you.

Gwendolen. Yes, I am quite well aware of the fact. And I often wish that in public, at any rate, you had been more demonstrative. For me you have always had an irresistible fascination. Even before I met you I was far from indifferent to you.We live, as I hope you know, Mr Worthing, in an age of ideals. The fact is constantly mentioned in the more expensive monthly magazines, and has reached the provincial pulpits, I am told; and my ideal has always been to love some one of the name of Ernest. There is something in that name that inspires absolute confidence. The moment Algernon first mentioned to me that he had a friend called Ernest, I knew I was destined to love you.

Jack. You really love me, Gwendolen?

Gwendolen. Passionately!

Jack. Darling! You don’t know how happy you’ve made me. We must get married at once. There is no time to be lost.

Gwendolen. Married, Mr. Worthing?

Jack. [Astounded.] Well… surely. You know that I love you, and you led me to believe, Miss Fairfax, that you were not absolutely indifferent to me.

Gwendolen. I adore you. But you haven’t proposed to me yet. Nothing has been said at all about marriage. The subject has not even been touched on.

Jack. Well… may I propose to you now?

Gwendolen. I think it would be an admirable opportunity. And to spare you any possible disappointment, Mr. Worthing, I think it only fair to tell you quite frankly before-hand that I am fully determined to accept you.

Jack. Gwendolen!

Gwendolen. Yes, Mr. Worthing, what have you got to say to me?

Jack. You know what I have got to say to you.

Gwendolen. Yes, but you don’t say it.

Jack. Gwendolen, will you marry me? [Goes on his knees.]

Gwendolen. Of course I will, darling. How long you have been about it! I am afraid you have had very little experience in how to propose.

Jack. My own one, I have never loved any one in the world but you.

Gwendolen. Yes, but men often propose for practice. I know my brother Gerald does. All my girl-friends tell me so. What wonderfully blue eyes you have, Ernest! They are quite, quite, blue. I hope you will always look at me just like that, especially when there are other people present. [Enter Lady Bracknell.]

Lady Bracknell. Mr. Worthing! Rise, sir, from this semi-recumbent posture. It is most indecorous.

Gwendolen. Mamma! I must beg you to retire. This is no place for you. Besides, Mr. Worthing has not quite finished yet.

Lady Bracknell. Finished what, may I ask?

Gwendolen. I am engaged to Mr. Worthing, mamma.

Lady Bracknell. Pardon me, you are not engaged to any one. When you do become engaged to some one, I, or your father, should his health permit him, will inform you of the fact. An engagement should come on a young girl as a surprise, pleasant or unpleasant, as the case may be. It is hardly a matter that she could be allowed to arrange for herself… And now I have a few questions to put to you, Mr. Worthing. While I am making these inquiries, you, Gwendolen, will wait for me below in the carriage.

I'm afraid of Mr. Harvey.

2010-05-27T14:57:00.001-07:00

Can't go out--can't stay in!

Either way, I am doomed.

In some states, they say you can burn for it---but I'll burn that bridge when I get to it!

2010-05-26T17:40:00.000-07:00

I've been burning a lot of bridges lately. Some of them have to be burned. It's like the Red Sea and Moses. There are a lot of Egyptians--they are following Moses--they need to be escaped from forever. Likewise, there are people I need to escape from, hence, I burn the bridge to prevent them from crossing to me and tar-and-feathering me or engaging in other practices that they might find enjoyable much to my dismay and suffering.

I think I am beginning to doubt myself, which is bad, because I am only recently beginning to trust myself and don't wish to lose this new-found confidence and self-love so quickly. I must keep it. It's a lot like gardening. Gardening has always been difficult for me, because I often decide that the plants are inevitably going to die because I am a bad gardener, and so I neglect them all together. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy for sure, because they do die.

I realize that at some point things are going to come together for me. At least, I hope so. I mean, it isn't fair that Karma would make my life miserable when there are so many people out in the world. Rather than singling me out, she ought to pick on them for a while. Let me grow. Quit pruning me or I shall die.

Today I wish I knew more people. I know why I don't know more people. It's because I burned the bridges between our islands, and now both of us are stranded on different islands. I'm trying to build new bridges. Definitely the more difficult way of going about it. Especially as I'm not quite sure everyone living on all the uncharted islands are friendly--they could be savages! (Is the term 'Savage' racist?)

I remember feeling like I needed to get out of this house when I was younger and living here. Living here again, I feel the same way again. It's because Hillsboro is so far away from Portland. I'm too weary to drive all the way there. If I lived in the city, I wonder if I would feel less fettered and be more apt to go walk-a-bout through city streets.

I'm done.

Cooking and Gardening

2010-05-24T13:15:00.000-07:00

I have just come out of another slump on the road of life. I've been pretty tired and indolent the last few days. Thankfully, my energy seems to have returned to me today, and I am boiling chicken stock with fresh thyme and it smells wonderful. I'm about to attend to the wilting blueberry plants that someone haphazardly threw into the dirt in front of our window.

This house is a vortex. It requires so much of us! Whenever I set something down, it disappears. Order tends to disorder: I want to write this above the front door. I wash dishes, and magically, a new pile appears. I think we should stop catering to the needs of this house. It's like a spoiled child. I think, yes, the squeaky wheel gets the grease, but the wheel that squeaks too often should be replaced.

1:20pm. I can't guess where the hours have gone. I'm not complaining---truly.

I should go to college to get my B.A.

2010-05-21T11:01:00.000-07:00

Hehehe.

This is an amazing private joke.

Listen.

2010-05-16T07:23:00.000-07:00

I'm shouting to the rocks,
over the roar of the waves
and the shrieking of gulls.

No wonder you can't hear me.

Panic Attack

2010-05-12T16:52:00.000-07:00

One cloudy afternoon, Mr. Smitt drove towards the grocery store. While driving, he had time to think. He thought about what it would be like to run over someone in his car. Accidentally, of course. He pondered whether he would join the ranks of the hit-and-run drivers, or whether he would have the guts to stay and own up to his heinous mistake. He imagined his eyes would freeze open with fear, seeing the victim a moment too late, and feeling the sentencing bump-bump of car tires over the body. It would be like the nightmare he couldn't wake from. That moment would be so defining. Mr. Smitt had made mistakes before, goodness knows he had burned Mrs. Smitt's toast one too many times, causing her to eventually pack up and run off with the cook from the local diner. This mistake, he felt, would be different. Mistakes usually led to changes in other people's lives. He usually remained untouched. This kind of life-and-death mistake might bring his own life in question. He wondered if the state could execute you if you really didn't mean to hit the victim at all. What if they could?
By this point, Mr. Smitt had reached the store. He carefully parked the car, turned off the engine, and heaved his aging body up and out of the driver's seat. He locked the car, and walked off, towards the open doors of the grocery store.

An End to the Chapter

2010-05-09T21:46:00.001-07:00

I don't know WHAT to say.

I need to get a job.

If you've gotta go, darling---maybe it's better that way.

2010-05-04T12:14:00.001-07:00

This our last night together, SMU.
In the morning, when you wake up, I will be gone--and I'm taking the bedding with me.

If I had my life to live over, I would start barefoot earlier in the spring, and stay that way later in the fall. -Nadine Stair

Hoe while it is spring, and enjoy the best anticipations. It is not much matter if things do not turn out well. -Charles Dudley Warner

I wish this week was over!

2010-05-03T14:10:00.000-07:00

I know why I am running away.

2010-04-29T15:54:00.000-07:00

I am empty, empty, empty.

Punched full of holes, like a moth-bitten sweater,

I've dripped my last drip-drip-drop,

and I'm drained dry.

Song of the Day

2010-04-28T16:31:00.000-07:00

This song is fantastic, and expresses how I am beginning to feel.

I'm stretched too thin over the nation, and I. just. want. to. live. one. life.

Let's get lost.

Fingers first.

It is an ordinary evening.

I am broadcasting, are you receiving?

Sick, sick sound.

All fall down.

It is a necessary evil!

Just like highway gas stations and people.

And I remember Golden Days when all this was a mystery.

When you could write a letter, or God-forbid, come visit me.

And if you find yourself without me,

can you find yourself without me?

Can you find yourself without me?

Hey! I'm fine.

You are saying nothing but your tongue is getting blacker all the time.

It is a measurable feeling.

Seven on a scale from Dead to Breathing.

I've connected speakers to my suitors at the Discotheques,

and they don't know the difference.

Are they men or are they Memorex?

Come on, and take your Listerine!

I remember Golden Days when all this was a mystery.

And you could write a letter, or God-forbid, come visit me.

Can you find yourself without me?
Come on, find yourself without me!

Take your Listerine!

MAKE UP YOUR MIND

2010-04-28T13:34:00.000-07:00

When you close and lock the door,

it makes me angry.

Maybe you think you're locking me in with you,

just the two of us,

whispering secrets and eating graham crackers,

the way we might have done when I was still a child.

You probably don't realize you're locking me outside.

Maybe you don't realize it's you that is shut in the closet,

while I give up searching for you and go outside to play.

Either way, I'm growing frustrated with your behavior.

Brilliance

2010-04-27T22:52:00.000-07:00

She's the kind of girl who gets her slings and arrows from the dumpsters.
The kind who tells you she's bipolar just to make you trust her.

Oh. End-of-the-Semester Blues...

2010-04-27T18:40:00.000-07:00

Curled into a fetal position, rocking myself wearily, I laid on my bed in this depressing position for quite a while today. Thinking. Worrying. I don't want to talk about it.

Interesting Revelation #1: Today, I worried that people might think I was the kind of girl who didn't care. Then, I realized I don't care. An impression is an impression is an impression. I don't want to worry about what people think of me.

Interesting Revelation #2: I don't really know when my finals are scheduled. Fortunately, no one else seems to know either.

I turned in a Not-Returning slip today. Feels good to be so decided. However, when asked if I'm coming back next year, I still reply, "I don't know." BE DECISIVE, MARGARET.

Sometimes, I just don't know. Don't know. Don't know...

What a week I am promised!

2010-04-26T11:22:00.001-07:00

I'm too stressed-out for my shirt,

too stressed-out for my shirt,

so stressed-out, it h-hurts.

Momentous Occasion: A Real Blog Post

2010-04-22T20:09:00.000-07:00

Some days, it strikes me how lazy I really am.

Like when I contemplate throwing a dirty spoon away so I don't have to wash it.

I just returned from a Clothesline Project meeting.

I was wearing a lavender shirt...brilliant.

Now everyone thinks my sexual orientation is in question.

Each shirt color has a meaning.

I used a white shirt, which generally stands for the murder of women, but that's not what I was really going for. I was embarrassed at first and didn't know what to write, so I began with something generic, and just let go. I hope they'll let me keep it after they finish displaying it.

It says:

Break the Silence

Stop the Violence

across the chest, which is really quite fitting, as I think a lot of people don't speak out against the injustices in our world.

The top left shoulder reads, in scraggly black letters:

And you lied, you lied, you always lied.

I just started thinking about how many women are lied to, and what a terrible thing that is. This sounds funny coming from a woman who is a frequent liar, but...I don't know.

I drew a street-lamp in the bottom right corner. Inferring that city streets should be safer so women can walk alone at night without feeling afraid. In some parts of town, I'm afraid to walk alone during the day!

Women need to be protected.

I think it's really random that I participated in this, because it's not really anything I've ever thought about or concerned myself with before. I think I'm becoming a protest-junkie. If there's an issue, I will pick a side and jump on the wagon, I guess. I've never respected women like that. Uh-oh.

It's funny to think it's that time again. Time to pack up and leave another "home." I'm quite a gypsy these days. I won't be sorry to leave this place.

Alright, I just wanted to scribble these thoughts down. But now it is time to attend to things. My room is a mess and there is laundry and that damn spoon to wash.

Goodnight.

Margaret is in an amazing mood at this point in time.

2010-04-22T14:42:00.000-07:00

I will burn that bridge when I come to it,
it's not a bad thing to seek professional help!

I could save you, baby, but it isn't worth my time.

2010-04-19T09:04:00.000-07:00

Good morning, killer-king, you're a star!

That's gorgeous, hold it right where you are.

The weather's kind of lousy today...

so what, oh what, oh what'll we play?

It's so simple the way they fall, no cry, no whimper, no sound at all.

So what's the use of going outside?

It's so depressing when people die in real life.

It's a hit, but are you actually sure?

The targets in the crowd are a blur.

The people are screaming just like they should...but you don't even know if you're good.

-Amanda Palmer

Lucia Perillo

2010-04-15T12:03:00.000-07:00

The Floating Rib

Because a woman had eaten something

when a man told her not to. Because the man

who told her not had made her

from another man's bones. That's why

men badgered the heart-side of her chest,

knowing she could not give the bone back, knowing

she would always owe them that one bone.

And you could see how older girls who knew

their catechism armed themselves against it:

with the pike end of teasing combs

they scabbarded in pocketbooks that clashed

against the jumper's nightwatch plaid.

In the girl's bathroom, you watched them

wield the spike in dangerous proximity to their eyes,

shepherding the bangs through which they peered

like cheetahs in an upside-downward-growing grass.

Then they'd mouth the words to "Runaway"

while they ran white lipstick round their lips,

white to announce they had no blood

so any wound would leave no trace, as Eve's

having nothing more to lose must have made

her fearless. What was weird was how soon

the ordinary days started running past them

like a rive, how willingly they entered it

and how they rose up on the other side. Tamed,

or god no...your mother: ready to settle

with whoever found the bone under her blouse

and give it over, and make a life out of the getting

back.

Margaret is a Woman King, bloodshot eyes---unbound by wrist-watch time.

2010-04-15T11:51:00.000-07:00

He spoke to her in poetry, and--

she runs away!

Wondering

2010-04-13T22:44:00.000-07:00

Why do I always feel like a drug addict these days?

I suppose it could be the sketchy clothes, the bloodshot eyes, and the frizzy hair.

Or the need for something.

I don't know what it is, but I know I'm dying without it running through my veins.

Margaret fell in love all over again...

2010-04-13T12:34:00.000-07:00

Alexi Murdoch, you are my man of the day!

Something Beautiful
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NfJAh6hrCzw&feature=related

Feeling Ready-to-Go

2010-04-13T11:13:00.000-07:00

Ah me!

This week will be a strain.

If only Friday would approach a wee bit faster...

Midnight Hymn

2010-04-11T23:41:00.000-07:00

Chemistry Homework completed.

I can't tell you how Fant-gasmic it feels to have that done.

I feel positively glorious tonight.

So many hopes and dreams.

Would I had a bedfellow to whisper them to...

Suicidal Tendencies

2010-04-08T22:16:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I try to do things but it just doesn't work out the way I want it to, and I get real frustrated and then like I try hard to do it, and I like, take my time but it just doesn't work out the way I want it to. It's like, I concentrate on it real hard, but it just doesn't work out. And everything I do and everything I try, it never turns out. It's like, I need time to figure these things out, but there's always someone there going “hey mike, you know we've been noticing you've been having a lot of problems lately, you know? You need to maybe get away. And like, maybe you should talk about it, you'll feel a lot better.” And I'm all like “oh, nah, it's ok, you know. I'll figure it out. Just leave me alone, I'll figure it out, you know? I'm just working on it by myself.” And they go “well, you know, if you wanna talk about it, I'll be here, you know? And you'll probably feel a lot better if you talk about it. So why don't you talk about it?” I go “no, I don't want to! I'm ok. I'll figure it out myself!” But they just keep bugging me, they just keep bugging me, and it builds up inside.

I was in my room and I was just like staring at the wall thinking about everything, but then again I was thinking about nothing. And then my mom came in, and I didn't even know she was there. She called my name and I didn't hear her and then she started screaming “Mike, Mike!” And I go “what? What's the matter?” She goes “what's the matter with you?” I go “there's nothing wrong, mom.” Shes all “don't tell me that! You're on drugs!” I go “no mom, I'm not on drugs. I'm ok, I'm just thinking, you know? Why don't you get me a Pepsi?” She goes “No! You're on drugs!” I go “mom, I'm ok. I'm just thinking.” She goes “No! You're not thinking, you're on drugs! Normal people don't be acting that way!” I go “mom, just get me a Pepsi! Please, all I want is a Pepsi!” And she wouldn't give it to me! All I wanted was a Pepsi, just one Pepsi, and she wouldn't give it to me! Just a Pepsi!

I'm sitting in my room, when my mom and my dad came in. they pulled up a chair and they sat down. They go “mike, we need to talk to you.” And I go “ok, what's the matter?” They go “me and your mom, we've noticed that lately you've been having a lot of problems, and you've been going off for no reason, and we're afraid you're going to hurt somebody, and we're afraid you're going to hurt yourself. So we decided that it would be in your best interest if we put you somewhere where you could get the help that you need.” And I go “wait, what are you talking about, WE decided? MY best interests? How do you know what MY best interest is? How can you say what MY best interest is? What are you trying to say? I'M crazy? When I went to YOUR schools, I went to YOUR churches, I went to YOUR institutional learning facilities? So how can you say I'M crazy?”

Don't unplug me, or sh-shut me down...

2010-04-08T10:00:00.000-07:00

What a day I am having.

I am achy and shaky.

With no attention span.

You saw her bathing on the roof, her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you...

2010-04-07T16:19:00.000-07:00

She tied you to her kitchen chair,

she broke your throne and she cut your hair,

and from your lips she drew the 'Hallelujah'!

It's raining today. I suppose I should remember that I'm in Olympia. It rained yesterday, and it will probably rain tomorrow.

Luckily, I love the rain. Today was particularly poetic--the smell of wet, cut grass, and a slight breeze to carry me to my morning class.

I'm terribly anemic again. I need some cast-iron-skillet-fried-eggs or a piece of steak. My skin is as pale as Marla Singer's and my eyes just as shadowed. I look like a drug addict, and yesterday, I felt like one. I collapsed on my bed and thought I was going to die right there. I've never felt that bad before, and I hope it never happens again. You know what's scary about dying? You can't stop yourself from doing it! It's not a matter of will power. It just...happens.

My classes here are exhausting me with their barren simplicity and pointed jabs at things that I am, things that I think.

I saw a sad picture today. I'm a vehement abortion foe, but this picture was of a woman holding a sign which read, "How many unwanted babies have you adopted lately?" I guess it just made me think. Self-righteousness is one of those things that easily infects the mind, but when it all comes down to it, none of us are never as good as we think we are.

Well, that's enough from me. I'm going to the library.

TTFN

Here we died our little deaths and we were left to catch our breath so quickly lifting from our chests.

2010-04-05T21:02:00.001-07:00

Fifteen lithesome maidens lay alone in their bowers.

Fourteen occupations paid to pass the idle hours.

Margaret heaves a sigh, her hands clasped to her thigh,

singing, "Oh, oh, the hazards of love!"

Now I was sitting, waiting, wishing...

2010-04-05T05:10:00.000-07:00

Nonsensical Morning:

Jack Johnson is playing on the radio.

Hot Cappuccino in my hands and mouth.

The world is darkness itself, except for this one lighted oasis, where I sit, waiting.

Wishing.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, and tomorrow...

2010-03-31T13:17:00.000-07:00

is creeping in petty pace indeed.

Inner Turmoil

2010-03-29T17:52:00.000-07:00

The papers around me are piling and twisting, so I'm taking a knife to the books that I own and chopping and chopping and boiling soup from stone!

(EXHALATION)

2010-03-29T14:27:00.000-07:00

I am temporarily not worried about anything.

Fun Fact

2010-03-29T12:04:00.000-07:00

If you stare at your own name for long enough, you can lose any kind of interpretation you ever had of it. You can forget how to pronounce it. It begins to look like a stranger.

Talk about losing your identity.

Margaret. Mar-Margaret. Yeah? Margaret's a victim. Margaret sits in her room playing killer killer killer killer beats. Mar-Margaret. Margaret's a victim. Margaret...is a...victim!

SHOCKER

2010-03-28T19:19:00.000-07:00

Hurrah!

One of my teachers has finally decided to give us homework!!

I have to read...ten pages for class on Monday!

She even gave us questions to answer.

Maybe I'll learn something? Don't get your hopes up...but it could happen.
At last, something to do! A temporary end to the Hellish sloth college imposes upon me.

Bloody Hell

2010-03-26T09:21:00.000-07:00

I. Am. Going. To. Be. Late.

Alright, friends. Here's a conundrum.

The library emailed me this morning, sending me a note which read:

"Your book is now available for pick-up."

Excited, I hopped on my bike, and raced over there in the frigid wind.

The library does not open until 10:00.

Does that sound like available to you?

Sleepy-minded

2010-03-25T20:29:00.000-07:00

What if I am a laboratory experiment?

The dormitory life would make sense...

F&F

2010-03-24T17:18:00.001-07:00

It is said that marriage is a long war between

ancient families trapped in close proximity

by lust. That's not the half of it.

F&F

2010-03-24T16:48:00.001-07:00

And then there's my father.

He's the opposite of Fredericka,

and will question your manliness

if you don't eat the four-pound

wildebeest cutlet with which he

bombs your plate.

"Not a problem," he says.

"I killed it myself. If you wash it

down with a gallon of ale, you won't choke--

and you'd better not. No 'Heinrich-Himmlin'

maneuver here. We beat those Nazi bastards,

and we don't have to do their bloody maneuvers.

Only 900 grams of fat. Eat the bullet too,

it's got vit-a-mins."

I Must Read This Again. Now.

2010-03-22T23:05:00.000-07:00

"Freddy," Fredericka said after hours of silence and a perfect work flow in which they could have passed the plates even had they been blind, "I've been thinking."
"Yes?"
"Should one live, or should one die? That's the question."
"In some senses, I suppose, it is."
"Is it better in your opinion to suffer outrageously, or to stand up to all one's troubles and just end it? I mean, what if dying were like sleep, and just by going to sleep you could end all the thousands of pains and heartaches you otherwise would feel? It seems attractive. Maybe dying is like sleep, and maybe you dream."
She thought on, and her face lit up. "Ah, but there's the catch, because who knows what dreams you may have when finally you've checked out? You have to wonder. Maybe that's why people are so willing to grow old and get fat and ugly, and suffer awful people, and snobs, and disappointment in love, and a rotten inefficient judicial system..."
Freddy looked at her in wonder.
"...and stupid bureaucrats, and all that and such, when all you have to do is stab yourself with a fish knife. Why would anyone go through all these things and work and sweat day after day except that they were frightened that in death, from which no one has ever returned, it might actually be worse! Better a bird in hand than hell knows what in the bush. We're just afraid, I guess, and whenever you think that it's time to end it, your fear turns your resolution to mush. Oh, be quiet now. Here comes Louella, and she's in a bad temper because they made her work on Martin Luther King Day."
Freddy was stupefied because she didn't stop there. In the weeks and months that followed, she sleep-walked through many a choice passage, all as if by magic, not only from Hamlet but from everything from Timon of Athens, Lear and The Tempest to Richard III, The Merry Wives of Windsor, Troilus and Cressida and Titus Adronicus....Whence did it come? Was it the conscience of their race, that had hitherto been sleeping in her well known breast and only now by stress and strain of seas colliding, erupted from her with the power and surprise of a volcano and the innocence of a schoolgirl. He never told her what she was doing, because he didn't want to shock it to a stop. And for the rest of their lives together she would speak this way now and then, especially when she was moved or tired, and he never ceased to be amazed for he knew that she had not studied Shakespeare for even a minute in the finishing school to which she had been committed, for in that place Shakespeare had been deemed far beyond the reach of all the girls who, nonetheless, had come up like flowers in the spring rain from the very loam in which the man himself had risen and was buried.

We will kiss, we will laugh, we will be a part of what is said to be a union of the heart.

2010-03-22T15:03:00.000-07:00

Ho-hum.

Monday...

Let's Go Away

2010-03-17T15:15:00.000-07:00

We are really lost--bridges burnt--fingers crossed!
Shall we ever be free? With no guarantee--life on another plane, same before, same again.
Go where you want to go so no one ever knows.
Only what we decide.
Is it gone?
Has it died?
Dry every tear in my eye.
You can tell me why.
This is our secret place...outer space, outer space!
Our home forever is, outer space.
Black stars and endless seas, outer space.
New hope, new destinies; outer space...forever we'll be in outer space!

AFP

2010-03-11T10:07:00.001-08:00

It is a Thursday,

I get up early,

it is a challenge,

I'm usually lazy.

I make some coffee,

I eat some rice chex,

and then I sit down

to check my inbox.

I only read a word or two.

I stare across the street and see the churches and the blue.

I am too busy to have friends,

a lover would just complicate my plans.

So I will never look for love again--

I'm taking matters into my own hands.

I think I could last at least a week

without someone to hold me...

won't you hold me?

I HATE MIDTERMS

2010-03-09T22:48:00.000-08:00

So, it's relatively early, yes.

I've studied...yes. ("Studied" is a relative term in my world.)

Tomorrow, my fate is pronounced.

I've decided not to care. To be "care-less." Gorgeous.

I am so weary of being weary.

I am retired. I was tired yesterday, and I'm tired again today...

Alright.

I'm going to bed. To sleep, if I can.

Sleep, those little slices of death. Oh, how I loathe them.

-Edgar Allen Poe

Detox

2010-03-09T16:37:00.000-08:00

I've banged my head for days against the walls inside this maze,
I've never been too good at this damn kind of thing.
I'm in here with my father, I'm just pacing, but he's smarter,
and he's building a fantastic set of wings.
And like that, I'm up and flying,
with the labyrinth behind me,
but I go too high--the sun is melting through the wax!
It burns, it hurts, I tumble to the earth,

and as I fall I feel myself relax.

Am I letting go? I think I'm letting go.
I must be letting go.
I've got to let it go.

Let it go.

Spring Awakening

2010-03-09T10:48:00.000-08:00

Something's started crazy---sweet and unknown.
Something you keep in a box on the street,
Now it's longing for a home.

And who can say what dreams are?
Wake me in time to be lonely and sad...
And who can say what we are?
This is the season for dreaming

And now our bodies are the guilty ones
Who touch, and color the hours.

Night won't breathe
Oh, how we fall in silence from the sky,

And whisper some silver reply.

Oh, our hearts will murmur the blues from on high.

And now, our bodies are the guilty ones--

our touch will fill every hour...

Oh, dirt roads...

2010-03-08T21:00:00.000-08:00

Helping the kids out of their coats---

oh, wait, the babies haven't been born.

Unpacking the bags and setting up,

and planting lilacs and buttercups.

In the meantime, I've got it hard...

second-floor living without a yard.

It may be years before the day

my dreams will match up with my pay!

I've got a man to stick it out,

to make a home from a rented house.

And we'll collect the moments one by one,

I guess that's how the future's spun.

TTW

2010-03-08T18:58:00.000-08:00

Maybe I'm dreaming you. Maybe you're dreaming me; maybe we only exist in each other's dreams and every morning when we wake up we forget all about each other.

----

I wanted someone to love who would stay: stay and be there, always.

----

I go to sleep alone, and wake up alone. I take walks, I work until I'm tired. I watch the wind play with the trash that's been under the snow all winter. Everything seems simple until you think about it.

----

Right now, we are here, and nothing can mar our perfection, or steal the joy of this perfect moment.

----

Sometimes I'm happy when he's gone, but I'm always happy when he returns.

----

Sleep is my lover now, my forgetting, my opiate, my oblivion.

----

Time is priceless, but it’s free. You can't own it, but you can use it. You can spend it. But you can't keep it. Once you've lost it, you can never get it back.

----

What is more basic than the need to be known? It is the entirety of intimacy, the elixir of love, this knowing.

----

And when I was young I didn't understand, but now, I know, how absence can be present, like a damaged nerve, like a dark bird.

2:22pm

2010-03-08T14:21:00.001-08:00

Margaret realized how terribly achy-lonely she was inside...

Margaret Shepherd

2010-03-07T18:57:00.001-08:00

had a very nice weekend

and is now pretending

to be preparing

for a week of hard work.

The naked blue angel is peering through the blinds...

2010-03-04T22:08:00.000-08:00

Margaret sighed, and began to fold laundry.

Oh...

2010-03-04T18:32:00.000-08:00

I am sleepy,

contrasting poorly with the sugar running in my over-worked veins,

and the excitement which causes my body to shake in anticipation.

Now, knowest I what the heroine addict endures.

Spring Awakening

2010-03-03T14:09:00.001-08:00

See the father bent in grief? The mother dressed in mourning...sister crumbles, and the neighbors grumble. The preacher issues warnings...little miss didn't do right. Went and ruined all the true plans. Such a shame. Such a sin.

Home alone on a school night, summer longing on the wind...had a sweetheart on his knees. So faithful and adoring...and he touched me, and I let him love me. So let that be my story...

The Place of Women

2010-03-01T19:07:00.000-08:00

Need.

Vacuum.

Cleaner.

It can no longer be ignored.

Crime and Punishment

2010-03-01T16:39:00.001-08:00

Talk nonsense, but talk your own nonsense, and I'll kiss you for it. To go wrong in one's own way is better than to go right in someone else's.

Because It Is Bitter, and Because It Is My Heart

2010-02-25T23:07:00.001-08:00

Jinx?. . . I'm so afraid.

Afraid of what?

Of things.

You mean...what happened by the river?

No. Not the past. What's coming.

My momma's got a saying: the future's gonna take care of itself, just like the past.

Mrs. Lovett? Marla Singer? Does it matter?

2010-02-25T18:41:00.000-08:00

Yes, this is what I am doing

with my college years...

Cruel Intentions

2010-02-24T18:23:00.000-08:00

Secret society, secret societyyyy...

Wash Day [excerpt from "Descarte's Loneliness"]

2010-02-24T18:13:00.000-08:00

Soiled thoughts heap up
like rags in a basket.
Time to do a wash.
The weather's right,
bright and windy.
A quick-dry day.

First, soap. Not store-bought.
But stone-hard pig fat
and lye mixed with
oatmeal in a pail.
Then hacked with a knife
into Lux-like flakes.

Then the washer, gas-powered.
Hard to start in the
kitchen, but too heavy
to lug outside.
"Fumes!" (There's
a word for you!)

The blue-enameled kitchen
stove burns corncobs
gnawed clean by pigs.
After the pigs have done
their damndest,
the cobs burn hot.

Water. Well-water
is real cold.
No stove, pigs or not,
is hot enough to bring
well-water to blood heat.
For that you need a heart.

In the root cellar
beneath the kitchen
potatoes sprout
dead white--
because there's
no light.

Outside, on wash day, are
two galvanized tubs
for rinsing in the lovely air.
Rinse Tub One: rainwater, sheer joy.
Rinse Tube Two: the blueing,
too cold to be true.

Then, everything dries on the line
in the winds of July.
What dries first?
Handkerchiefs and lady's underwear.
What dries last?
The farmer's overalls

heavy with desire.
On the bib,
where the heart beats,
his everlasting snuff tin
has inscribed an unwashable
perfect circle forever.

At noon, the naked truth descends
offering her stunning breasts.
Also here comes the prophet
Amos, with something in his hand.
In fact, a basket of summer fruit.
Ch. 8, vss. 1, 2. (Check it out.)

Kate Nash

2010-02-24T18:11:00.001-08:00

Dancing at disco's,
eating cheese on toast,
yeah, you make me merry,
make me very very happy,
doo doo doo dah doo doo.

Lady Jane

2010-02-22T14:11:00.000-08:00

Guilford: So then we will.
Jane: Yes, we will.
Guilford: We'll fly.
Jane: We'll fly.
Guilford: Away, beyond their reach.
Jane: So far...
Guilford: Their touch can't tarnish us, and at last, we will be...
Jane: Nothing...
Guilford: Nobody...
Jane: Each other's.
Guilford: Only this time, forever.

"Come, my love," he said.

2010-02-22T14:09:00.000-08:00

"I thought, you see, I wondered: Now that we're together, how on earth are we going to spend the days?"

thank you, but no thank you

2010-02-21T23:06:00.000-08:00

tonight it is dark

and i am sleepy

and these are my thoughts

even though you once

dismissed them as

a poor excuse for

writing anything

worth-while, i can't

be bothered to concern

myself any longer with

your help, but thank

you, don't find me

un-grate-ful, i'm just

full to the top, and

if i take one more bite

of your wisdom,

i shall surely

replicate Little Thomas

and his noisy ways.

I've lost my faith in womanhood...-The Smiths

2010-02-16T19:00:00.000-08:00

tonight i went walking
out in the dark and the
whole time it was as if
there was a sea of words
inside of me, longing to
come singing, screaming,
and scrambling out of me;
i think there are too many
thoughts and possibly
one day soon i will think
too many thoughts and
i will explode before
crumpling and wilting
and ceasing to be anything
of use to anybody but
then again, most of me
thinks this is just the
womanness in me talking
and part of me glorifies
in this, and the other half
sighs heavily and wishes
to have done with the whole
business, but this is getting
off subject and i can no longer
remember what it might
have been that i wanted
to say, but i think it was that
everything is much simpler
than it seems but i make
it more complicated
and if you just
bear
with
me
i promise it will all work
out in the end...

SPRING IS COMING

2010-02-16T15:28:00.000-08:00

The sun is shining, and I feel expectant.

TTW

2010-02-15T22:25:00.000-08:00

"I worry that you will get tired of putting up with my undependableness and you will leave me."

Clare puts her sketchbook aside. I sit up. "I won't ever leave you," she says. "Even though you're always leaving me."

"But I never want to leave you."

---

Clare: You have been mostly impervious to my wheedling ways. I've suffered dreadfully under your regime of French verbs and checkers.

Henry: I guess I should take consolation in the fact that my future self will at least have some weapons of subjugation.