i don';t knw how to get somwone elsa's post to show here

i've killed so many things
with good intent

hit a car today....teenyweeny bouncing thud...
Thought i'd knocked a barrel of NOah's Ark debris over.

I made her laugh.
The sister was far more concerned'bout crossing thouse Ize.

spanishamerican copster report wrritng with seriously thermalized undercarriage.

i smoked a lot afterward.
felt nauseated.

smudgy marr on the backleft.
not much to repair.

then i danced in my tap shoes with the other middle aged bouncing muthaz.

goddam...where are my people.

the dark daddy is cold to me now.
and i havent done much of anycreation like stuff.

will glue neon buttons to the black wood and spell out something sentimetal for xmas.

blah blah blah.

so little... a few spirts of laughter

blah blah

all othhhose years of waiting and thinking that it would be better one day.

and it is is lots of ways
not like i thought though.

so much to overcome at times...
just following rules in every scenario
social.....then isolated.

different entities
daddy companion
sick lover
impatient
gay thespian teacher
old friend
art thinker cyberman
girlfriend trying to maintain
great creator
so so so silly
and beautiful with that hair
God it feels good

little struggling one
born into struggle

Everywhere i look it's debris ridden
thoughts so incomplete
Bits of paper, and now there are 2 others just like me
no effing way to keep it under control
no money
jars of coins dumped into his pocket
whirling into the machine charging me to count it

How fucking brilliant....another idea not my own
LIke the ice man...tinkering engineer man
NOw in possesssion of aboat with a captain
"must remove shoes to come inside"
"must flush the toilets in the proper fashion"

and while all of this isso covetously luxurious
I just want the godddammed billz paid

goddam i'da been a great rockstar......daddy K

dollies all across the shelves

If only I had the focuss and talent to persist
the talent seems to be someone else.

and still the interruption continutes.

but I think the at prolificness is key.

lots and lots of you. on the page, or on the shelves, or on the computer.

flying by on train cars
hobos resting from their protective battles to defend their walls of asphalt and refuse coated treasure.

radio would be spirit tickle inducing as well.

HOw sci-fy for that baby to emerge from its mother.
goo in the eyes and mouth
sounds oftearing flesh, ripping muscle and slow low moaning/grunting...
defecation with no humility
the host desperate to release the balled captive
placenta depleted

big big BILLBOARDS......bill's boards

oh you sweet and defensive lamb.
I don't blame you
'tis their nature not to be trusted.

his deference is key.
the bloody children are screaming again.
agony over an uncooperative yammering shark

great!
now he's indicating instability
Like my brother....symptons of potential self destruction

bloody bloody bloody friend. won't let me help!!!!!!

going back, even deeper, into apathy.
what a grand place to be.
Never really very good at it, but trying.

I am so tired, but could easily be jolted, even just for a bit of time, from my bloody bored skull.
I am so tired, but one must stiffen the upper lip and continue to scour away.....soak soak soak....regular wash cycle....the damned stain didn't come out. leftovers and 3 annual trips to the in-laws for deep south carb laden substitute......And people will never come out here....they're too set as we age.....even with my disco balls spinning, and ecclehclehclehtic mix of melody, and fattening food and liquor....they are too old.
And I am too withdrawn.

not familiar with some of this
So goddammed sheltered
passively defensive

Boredom
contempt AND comfort with everyday

And now there is new and damaged
drawn to its furnace
And the heat escapes through the irises
And the pseudo-punk bourgeois princess would love to just take a flying leap from the turreted window
God that would be fun
but as usual, there would be birdshit to avoid, and jagged edges on the tower...narrowly missed, probably ricocheting some, bloodied
The blood is so bright lately

And I;ve contemplated the same friend.
So i just sit, and don't talk, and wish to interact in some form, but the "no talking" has to suffice. A life of subpar conversation=little stimulation......labotomized.

this is an oppresive summer......the heat is worse than i remember from the past few years.....and it is so hazy when it's hot......dusty.
And it's claustrophobic too.

Ben Franklin.....I love you

MY sPEAKERS kick Ass

COUGH
COUGH COUGH
COUGH COUGH
COUGH
COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH
COUCH COUGH

I find it very hard to believe i got no comment on the story of the old lady and the red purse.

watched, most of , a pgm on On Demand, History channel about ancient aliens. all the cities under the Meditteranena sea, I do not feel like looking that up.
The BhadVaGhita (nor that) and it's reference to a city that was around 12,000 yrs old.
The city was potentially anihaltated (holy shit?????) by something as hot as a nuclear explosion, and some theorize that it was spaceships fighting in the sky above them.

{funny funny feelings inside, just to imagine, maybe to imagine the people i never quite knew}

And the alien depictions in religious art of the Renaissance, and NOah's birth is awfully similar to that of Jesus of Naz.

Man, I have this warm lustful feeling for that human. All the depictions i see of him lately are so damned sexy. I bet he'd have been killer to converse with.

Immaculate......
so if your home is immaculate, is there some connotation to No Sex......
or is it that immaculate conception's not getting "dirty"
Hmmmm?
dirty

head pain

My mother in'laws friend died today.
evelyn Turner.
I really really loved Mrs. Turner
Her husband died back in like NOv or something, and I knew she'd not live long without him.

that, is so romantic.
and I've dreamed of feeling like that.

I have a shark who is not growing as the other in the tank with him, the other bullies him because of it, and i hate this feeling that i always get, that he will be a casualty soon.

just stop with all that silliness,
and focus on your own
Just your own and what it likes.

I can see it, why does it not transfer to the paper as such?

I saw a behavioral health building in Yulee, right at the intersection of Main Street and A1A.

It is beige, with big blue letters. I staredat it for a long time.

I wish to go back to school.
i wish to study medical and mental theories.
And i wish to work with Downs Syndrome children,
At least for now.

i wish to study so many things.
And i could read them on my own, but i won't.
I need the structure of a classroom, groups, and auditory instruction.
i think that may be a big area of learning for me, someone speaking, even though i don't listen very well. I make up my own meaning for things, a lot, and it's wrong, a lot, and people think there's something wrong with me, sometimes, not a lot.



ooh, I;m making a new video and I';m excited, and I get excited about them a lot, think they will bereally beautiful, then it just kind of fizzles,
LIke i see what others make/do and feel inferiour....god damn that demon.
He is for-fucking-midable.

Oh i want my children to soar.
the boy worries me though.
He is very very very emotional, anger that is.
But very into sweetness and loving things.
the cats, love the cats and the things they do.
but he gets so very very upset, irrationally.
over candy, or brushing his teeth, or getting his clothes turned the rightway out.
So, i wonder and worry, because i think of Paul and his emotional state.
Georgia is not like this, at all.
She can handle things.
My son cannot.

I wonder about fellow beings who .....hmmmm??? who, like how their days are spendt.
I like it with the d.

How many times are their actions met with disapproval?
re....shit....re...the word was there...
what is the word that is synonymous, sorta, with disapproval, but is starts with re....
met with retiscence???? nope
met with (not resistance)
met withrecompense....no, that's not right....that sounds like compensation.
met with .......F-it.
how can it be there one minute, and gone the next?

When I met you in the Restaurant

Oh my.
this is truly cheap therapy.

So I;m still quite envious of friendships and siblingships i read about.
I am developing new relationships though, rekindling old.
the sibling thing though, will always be difficult.
Nobody to really get my back.
I miss my brother terribly at times.
I talk to him a lot.
But i don't dream of him anymore.
And that makes me wonder about dreaming.
We communicated a lot after he died. in my slumber.
But no more.
So, his memory is fading from my mind.
I wonder if we need to have physical contact with people in order to dream about them.

I dreamt of Imelda Marcos not long ago though, and I've never met her.
Dreamt of John Lennon, in a theater, aviator specs, long hair, NYC shirt.
We held hands and pecked one another, so very middle school like, and I loved it...Loved him afterward.

shroud of Turin...
I don't believe in someone who wants us to tell him how great his is all the time.
That is so egotistical.

I could eat a really good breakfast crepe.

It's thundering and lightning here.
But there is no rain.
I've watched a sillylove story
And i wish the rain would come to wash away piteousregret
I've fallen for the actor in that role
and would do just as the heroine,
But how true is any of what feels right?
terribly fleeting

Sacrifice and
Martyrdom
Nothing radical, just easy, resigned, settled
aging
Andhow different are you really from what you were?
Probably not very.
Regret
resignation into oblivion
And lots of jealousy

Regret
But you thought you tried
And it just wasn't enough
Not good enough in some fucking book.

Others' opinions mattered so much
and they'd be different now, but far more damaging and damning
tsking and tsking and tsking

And the comparisons and competition,
again
Not so different from before.

The audio storm has passed,
no rain to show for it.
stiffened neck, pain into my breast
the electrical warmth will welcome
and I might dream of a gaze, intent to stare, imagine
Maybe dream of a kiss which will summon the storm into my room
For just this night.







(i'm afraid he knows, and alternatives are far too costly, and so very trendy too, and it's all rather sad, misplaced...unfortunate, and lonely, blah)
I dreamt of him, in a room, modular rectangles, high into the atmosphere, and his mate smiled and laughed, and wove in and out of the rectangle, and i walked about the space and looked out the thin highplaced windows at the trees and city so far below, expanding out, with water bordering it all
and he sat and watched all of it.
I watched him watching me look
and I watched her move around, smiling, giggling at something, beautiful shoulder length hair, such a nice smile, warm


Ah Ha!!!!! you've come back my quiet little thundercloud......

So blastedly hot and stifling
And unable to focus.
There's a haze in the air, over the river
Everything's gray.
Like standing next to a big flatpaint battle ship.
Heat felt a good 5 feet away.

So hot.
The garden dirt burn my souls.
And i'm inadvertantly standing in a small pile of ants.
And Mr Shelton starts playing oldschool soul
so dammed loud
And I move, while i pull weeds, and flick ants away from my fingers and toes.

The neighbors have spent 1000 dollars on yardlife.
the sisters are 1/2 Panamanian.
And mesmerizing from a distance.
The older sister tells the younger what to do.
the younger one has 2 boys, one 13, and she looks 17.

People don't get out in this heat, much.
They have water close to them.
And i ache for a freezing pool
Gasping upon enveloping contact.

That goddammed job would never have afforded me one anyway.
NOt until later, and i want the pool now.

I don't like this song on the radio.
And the children's teeth are coated in icecream&soda

trying to break free of 85 percent of the silli-notions....established norms, perspectives.
Socioculturalcomfort.
Aint givin it all up. like A/c and meat and pop culture and top40 and crapsnacks.

adios coifffededness
pressededness
(those disappeared wayback)
showroomness
People are coming soon and i can box things, stackthings, scrub and deoderize linoleum
but the leather is wearing thin and the table's stained with paint and marker and 2 of the 4 chairs are intact (barely) and the 2 others round the rectangle arent kin.
blue metal and yellow plastic with black metal.
And the folks coming will blast "HOW MANY FISH TANKS DO YOU HAVE?!"
and Mark and i've fought over this, and i kept saying "speak nicely to me"
we can argue, but don't start yelling and stomping around, because i don't do that.
and i do want them to come
and i'll put all the crazy shit in their faces
like my 50% fini bathmat beauty.
she is gorgeous, even without a face
But i have gotten a "what is that?" from a former close friend......
yep, curled lip, "what IS that?"


so i must break free of needing people to approve.
I try, probably too radically at times.
still look atttheir faces sometimes though, and then i feel like withering.

If i go back to work I'm just going to have the attitude that it's going to suck most of the time.
I dont' want to, but god damn, how lazy am i going to get?

I am ocassionally overcome by awe at how our minds have evolved....And most of the time I get to this point by observing and assessing a new invention......very simple inventions especially.
With my over-a-year-long obsession now with fresh water aquaria, I am learning how not to kill certain types of fish (unfortunately done so by trial and error) Freshwater fish are either goldfish (including koi), or tropical, and the 2 cannot typically cohabitate (most tropicals are aggressive and goldfish are not, and goldfish produce large amounts of ammonia in their waste which tropicals cannot handle) Feeding these 2 classifications is a bit involved as well.
Gf will eat anything, need goldfish food because it has a higher caloric content than tropical food...Certain tropicals do well with flakes, but many require special food as well in order to remain healthy, etc.....Cichlids, in their varying forms (African, southAmerican, Angels, Oscars, Parrot fish) require cichlid pellets, but are hoggish like goldfish and will eat just about anything.
I have an eel....He is a recent addition to my show. a fire eel.....He is gorgeous. He looks just like a piece of wood with red and yellow lines.....I have yet to see him eat. but, Ive had him now for a little over 2 weeks, so I feel certain he's eaten something, I just haven't seen it.
I've read up on fire eels and while they will eat pellets and flakes, they do require live food from time-to-time.....I can't stand feeding live things to others. They all know and can sense the impending doom.......even the little invertebrates know something's not kosher.
I bloody tried to feed the eel some ghost shrimp, live ghost shrimp. Did as advised and put him into a bucket with an air source and put 7 really really cute ghost shrimp in with him. Left him for about 6 hours....thought of the poor souls a lot while I was gone. Came back, certain that at least 2 or 3 would have been devoured while the others huddled together in nailbiting terror over what they had just witnessed....I lifted the towel from off the bucket and saw all 7 transparent crustaceans forming a semi-circle around the eel.....notta one was gone.....
And within the tank in which the eel resides I have a good sized Albino African BlackClawed frog.....He will eat nonstop once any form of food hits the water.....so, my point....inventions....simple inventions and our evolution......
The little man at the fish store is so so so helpful and accomodating. He gives me lots of things to try.....different kinds of fishfood, containers to hold aquarium salt, lots of advice.....
I've told him of my fish that I never see eating and how certain tankmates devour everything before others can get to it.....He gave me samples of krill ( i think) in a gel that can be injected into a hiding place to be certain that whoever is in there will get their chance to nibble.
He handed me a plastic medicine syringe/spoon/ thing with a very very long skinny tube popped over the end....He told me it specifically will shoot the gel into these hiding places......
So, the syringe is why I am not ready to give up hope on our species just yet.
and I started to wonder about why we demean ourselves in the name of worshipping deities/ or mono......
I know why, but I think it is contradictory......If we are created in the image of God, why would we not want to praise our ability as "children" of this creator to......find the beauty in how our minds work and create and honor this process......Not belittling ourselves in places of worship, telling this invisible man how great he is.......God is the ultimate father figure, but I don't constantly tell my daddy how great he is and that I'm not worthy to be in his presence.....
That was an arguemnt i had with mymother inlaw about the goin'to heavean thing.
She also made a correlation between God and his children, and how we all treat our own children. I was picking her brain about why she believes that you have to pronounce Jesus as your saviour from sin or you don't go to heaven......And I said that I think that's a very mean God who has dictated that to us.......And why toy with us by giving us free will????? you (God) are saying I have these choices, but if i choose the wrong one I'm doomed....And she made the connection between raising your own children and God's rules for us......But I said that we don't abandond/banish our own children if they make a bad choice.....We love them, try to redirect them, and always offer to take them back in to be cared for if need be.......she didn't say much after that.......mumbled something then went to brush Georgia's hair and tell her to ask for salvation....

*********** This must be sung to I feel Pretty.....just that refrain---"I feel pretty, oh so pretty, I feel pretty, and witty and gay...." over and over........


I need money..............
lots of money..............
I need money
Please honey provide.............

I need money........
Wads of money.........
I've a desperate urging inside..............

I'd buy buildings
with big windows
And some riverfront acreage for fun

I'd see Russia
and a ghost town
Pay-0ff foreign police as we run!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We'd be happy
oh so happy
We would barely have difficult times

We'd not argue
or feel disgust
Hearing heavenly bellchoir chimes.....

Come on Lotto
or that BigBall
give me fortune to let my mind soar

I'd be frugal,
at least sometimes
Never flaunting the wealth like a whore.

So where are you
my redemption
My sweet lover
and giver of hope

I'd take Franklins
in a semi
Bound in bundles with organic rope

I;ll keep dreaming
bits of scheming
To become independent from strife
and then one day
When I'm real old
Bet that fortune will enter my life

Broken hip casts
made with fine plasts
The best doctors and nurses around

Saggy features
hanging boobies
Leaving drag marks all over the ground

But I'll take it
if that's just it
At least I could help my kids have fun

Old L perry
in ElPaso
with her walker and young hunk Beh'run

birthday comin' choo choo
birthday comin' whoo whoo
birthday comin' round the bend
one day closer to the end....

such a peaceful place, for a bit
Maybe hospital like for awhile
We were told that's what it was like for Paul
then my mom dreamt of him making rulers
and being on the beach, walking to the stilt house he was in.
and she had a big dog with her.

nothing ever really definitive with the psychics.
Once, the only really good bit i remember my parents relaying to me
and my mother hesitated because she thought I'd be offened.
They asked Sally why my brother had not made himself know to me.
She began acting out pushing things aside, looking through things.....like peeping through tiny openings.
"He says there's lots of messes everywhere, things are piled"
HOLY SHIT!
ain't no way that'd be available in some database....cool......

I'm not really good at this living thing.
Can't wait til things are different, better.
don't really care for children much under 8 or 10.
Can't stand boring routine, expected behaviour, redundancy...and yet they are necessssary in order to accomplish antyhgin really.
I spoke with my girlfriend about the bulk of thougths i carey....psycholigcal and material.
And if i am to accomplish anything with any of them i will need a hightly structured day, and yet i wake, urinate, stumbel to press the coffee button, oversee my daughter's exodus into the day, and then begin...................nothing.........Lots of puttering, sitting withcafffeiene, spiral notebooks, magazines, overdue libraby something or others, some sneezing, putting something together for Jackson Paul to ingest...
My spouse has attempted (when we are at yet another impasse), to not compeletly alienate me, by telling me to schedule my day...He's even gone so far as to create one for me, which might typically have pissed me off, but he was sincere, not done in anykind of patronizing way, which in the past may have happennned....It's still on the fridge.
so, bootstraps, bootstraps, here i come....
tomorrow maybe.
my music machine is dead
I'm lost.

And speaking of old frailwomenfolk.
When i worked at the fort Caroline Publix, in the now defunct Gazebo shopping center (the area had such charm, little beer serving ciggie smoking movie therattrer)
I was working at the service desk and this trenchcoat clad old lady approached rather stealthily for someone in her respiratory state.
she carried an old lady purse, which is now considered fashionable/vintage/character laden....I believe i have one that is probably a reproduciton of the one she held clutched to her chest.....handstraps tucked under her chin......I stood in my little square opening, between the computer recess and lottery apparatus.....waiting, assesssing.....She looked cute, witht that fast walk, small stature, sense of desperation to quickly accomplish something.....
Immediately, before I finished my typically warm and needy "hELLoooooooooooo----------"
she opened her red leather pocketbook and puked into it, still so swift, expert like in the mechanics of popping the brass cinch closure ( i don't know what it's called, but it's n ot a snap, it makes a fab popping sound, it's almost like yo0u are snapping your fingers to open it) and making sure the regurgitated stream went directly inside, not a drop spilling to the floor....
I believe she may have vomitted again, gasping for any forgiving wisp of breath, and when she finally stopped retching long enough to request my service, she croaked a pathetic, "pack of camels...................unfiltered.."
I realized that she was vomitting, most likely, goo from her lungs.....(don't know if that's physiologically possible) It was yellowy beige in color.....and she contiued to fill her c. 1960's scarlet beauty with festering spew......paid, in cash, for her pack of assassins, and retreated out the doors to partake in her carcinogenic orgy.

saw a big truck, red cab, coming down US1, toward me, as i went to get Georgia from school.
It was loaded with blue pallettes.......it was beautiful....I may attempt to recreate it. itwas so pretty.....purple blur.

i think periodically about this tiny old lady that i met in one of the little strip shop set-ups on St George Street...
I don't remember the store, what it sold, but she was so very old and frail.

It was so long ago. Probably 14 yrs back.
Someone in an adjoining shop said that she was an investing genius. an oracle.
And so i went into her shop and she looked at me warmly.
And someone i do not know was with me.
And we began discussing investments.
and i had no freaking clue what she was talking about, but i listened.
She advised that 2 wise investments would be pallets and soy........
and i remember thinking.....PALLETS?! how bland and boring.
Wasn't super familiar with soy at the time, other than as a health food.
I told Mark and he didn't seen impressed with any of it.
(must work on resentment issues.....MWonRI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
So,that energy died, as many have.......wah, wah, wah......(bootstraps, bootstraps, snappy waist)

As I enjoy coming to insterstate overpasses (especially ones where there is a long straight stretch of road up to the crisscross, so the view is runway-esque) anticipating a beautiful color combo on 18 wheelahs......It always catches my eyes that numerous truck beds are loaded with these wooden slapped togehter skinny cubes....a few slats busted, unfinished forms, piled up a good 10 feet or so, flying down the highway.....off to a port, or grocery warehouse, or appliance center.
So basic, and so necessary, and so easy to repair....and i may have started a buisness of building them and maybe making them asthetically entertaining. some lyrically adorned....uplifting, lots of humorous blurbs.....some racy
and soy......
IT'S EVERYWHERE NOW!
ugh!!!!!!
Dammit....................................
independent wealth!!!!!!!!!
wtfuckareyou?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

upcoming bitch fest: not being taken for much worth in sodium (nitrate)...maybe a teense in Chloride.

How lovely....All these flowing thoughts-when they are immortalized, profound in their placement
(center circle, or possibly a geometric offshoot, or perhaps even a twiggy branch)

so nurtured into form
years of freedom,
indifference to opposing opinion.

Philosophicle
and the phicle is predetermined by natural dictates.
However, strong foresight, while not nearly as titillating, allows for a potentially peaceful passing
A sheen about the crown

(Mark Hilpert was massaging mine at his memorial service-----it was tingling as if i might lift from the pew whilst 4 men played in a band; a beautiful deep melody, marble mouthed strains)

So pick yourself up bythe boot straps, or slipping girdle, and think about how great you really are. and will be, And all those turtles, and lizzzzards, and little green frogs, and kitties, and a dog or two, and the bones left from dinner with their martyred sacredness put back into the dirt, respectfully.......will help you glide, womblike, into the ascending spheres............

I wish to go their from time-to-time.
But still comeback
for now.

I returned a movie to redbox at the Winndixiceshopping center here in Callahan, this morning.
It's raining and it's taking some of the bite off my dimentia.
I had to park in frontof the Dollar General and walk around to the machine...
After i'd returned my movie i walked back by the only laundromat (laundrette is so much more poetic and Anglo) we have in cally
It was a fab second or 2 of sensory stimulation, good stimulation.
The place smellled ofsoap powder and the white noise hum of the machines and the gentle tapping of the rain and a mild cigarette smell warmed me spiritually.
England came to mind, the soap smell and rain's mostly why.
And it made me wonder why ifeel such fondness andwarmth when i am reminded in an olfactory manner of England.
such fondness.
My grandmother was never overjoyed to be with us. She was suffering from depression and could be a bit crotchety....not lighthearted and running around, but not always awful.
I had lots of time there with my cousins and lots of time to be on my own, in the English sun.
And it was always cool and smelled sweetly of flowers,lavender and sage, roses
and green
Grass that leaves smudges on white summer pants.
And the character of the old buildings, stone and old door frames
And the windows of small residences along the townstreets
windows with little figurines, gray glossy porcelain horses, or oriental men.
And the rosey faces, so many rosey faces...apple cheeked youth.
spikey haired
school uniforms with loosened ties.
I embarrassed my cousin Charlotte once.
We went when i was 18 or 19 one summer.
I'd promised some friends i'd get a few things for them.
For lee i found a beautiful itchy wool tie and a card with a woman dressed in bondage straps, wrapped around her enormous breasts, it was sooooo hot, and Charlotte was seriously blushing when she walked with me to the register, and i had not received a bag for the card in the shop where i'd purchased it, so i asked for a small bag in another place and she told me that they do not do that there....i was like, "do what?"
"ask for a bag for something purchased in another store"
hmph......that's silly.
I wonder if there are still those stiff upper lip queer little social etiquette whatever foible kinda things engrained in my people i do so adore............................

and here's something else
and yes, i bitch about a lot of things, and don't really have interesting things that others are doing are making or expounding upon
but dammit!!!!!!!!!!!!! why do we have to have so much that is to be disposed of.
of which is to be disposed???????????

i buy vinegar (of which to perhaps discipline myself at some point to drink a smidge each day)
and the bottles are beautiful plastic pitchery decanter type forms.
I CANNOT save them, but so desperately wish to.
I do not have my hundred acres as of yet, upon which iwillll construct structures to house all these incomplete thoughts.
of witch
(and let me tell you of her and that body, and her sarcastic but generally harmless wit)
I wonder where that little coven went...........................

vinegar.
I like this theory that Jesus of Nazareth feigned his crucisfictiosnaiotnW
crusifiction
cruscifiction.
Why would that be so heretical?
is the son of God not alllowed to wish for long life and progeny?
holding his sensual wife close while they continue to pursue...........what were they pursuing?
like gender equality
enlightenment
oh the Gaul


there's this really itchy spot, half way down my back...on the far left....
it's been there for awhile
I ghet mark to scratch it a lot, but usually i have to use a medium bristled brush toeradicate the nuisance...there are no marks, or pimples, or bites, or puckers to denote an epidermal disturbance that wuold warrant the necesiiity for itchin'

done bitchin'
tonight...
ooooh....1 minute left.......
hmmmmm???
what else............

HI Daddy, i'm glad you didn't puke.

god i've been crying so much.
Today's been better for feeling..............purposeful..........
purposeful porpoise

And i just wonder why such odd and random things might happen.
seeing a dead animal on the road
One that is not seen too often.
I've seen 2 dead alligators
I've seen 2 or 3 dead foxes lately
I've seen a dead coyote here and there.
One time i caught the remnants of a dead deer at the intersection of I95 and A1A in Yulee...and for a good number of minutes i believed it to be a kangaroo.
The worst was the dead blackbear.
we were down in the ft meyers area after Paul died.
i was with his widow and her sister.
we were driving to get a boy from the airport.
It was the boy who'd tried to stop Paul.
He was holding him when he took his life.
Steve...I think.
And as we turned off the exit of the interstate we saw the pitiful creature, there, with some forestry/wildlife person standing over it....It was so pitiful, lumbering still in its hulking eternal rest.
lumbering slumber
Carolyn looked at me and gasped that she wished she hadn't seen it, and i thought the same...it is forever in my mind.
and i clearly remember looking to see where he could possibly have come from, and directly behind him, vast acreage had been cleared, raped of anything organic, choking powdery soil, with an enormous Cracker Barrel sign shoved at the edge of it all. His home was gone.

Oh Mildred, and the love you share...
and that long manageable hair.
And the time you've had
with a mind so desired.
I bet you've been one who's inspired....
Lots of thoughts of admiration,
(like marine mammal echolocation)
And how hip and happening your beginning
In your patient and self enlightening decades,
your sisters knew you'd end up winning.
And so Mildred
(and I love and at the front)
glasses raised to you and yours
and your happy life of intellect.......
windblown catherine on the moors

HI Daddy......thanks for my needles and brads and flocking and glitter and cuban sammy and bean soup.....and dinner fixins......

I took Georgia to her school's bookfair yesterday. $60 freakin' dollars later and our new purchases are scattered about the house....I did get one of my beleoved Can You See What I See books....Oh i love them
I love miniature....I think i'd like to create little vignettes everywhere.....little things....little people, little food, little windows and doors, and use things that are not what they seem to be.

So, as my children and i are walking up to the bookfair, she spies the little girl who lives in our neighborhood and whose birthday get together we just attended at the kids' pizza place.
And that little girl was so sweet to my daughter at the pizza place....and ran around with her and hugged her and squealed about how much she loved her when she opened the little petshop present we gave her......
This child is twofaced though....she has been nasty to mine, in front of me, in front of her mother.
Her mother just claims that she is moody and mildly corrects her, but never makes it into an issue, the fact that her child ignores mine in front of others, goes back and forth with acknowledging my child and intentionally turning her back to her when she's asking her a question.
As we got closer to the library, my daughter mentioned her name to me and i immediatley wondered if she'd ignore her.....I mean, all she has to do is wave or say hello to her....she doesn't have to stop and hug or have a conversation....
She was talking to a classmate, looked at my daughter, and said nothing....NOTHING...in response to my child's greeting....Even if she didn't hear her she should have acknowledged my child saying hello to her.....And i told my child that was it.....I told her not to speak to her anymore, at all.....don't say hello...nothing....If the child says hello to her she should respond, but she should not initiate the greetings, at all, anymore
This child is from a situation in her home where the parents HATE one another.......and it is affecting this child....She is probably jealous of my daughter because Georgia is tall, thin, pretty, warm, and smart....and also very very loving and forgiving....desperate for this child to be her friend....And the child knows it and uses it against mine.......knows that she can be a bitch to her and my daughter will keep coming back.......

have just returned (sidebar: my ginger kittylove me...he just did the most graceful and gymnastics like jump up onto this desk, keyboard undertoe, making the computer ding very loudly, knocking his head into my chin, licking my neck as a precursor to faux nursing)
from Chucky Cheeses...Chuck E Cheese's in regency.
it was for my friend's daughter's bday.
i did not want to go, many reasons why....
was really pissy before hand
super begrudging type atty
got there...just sat, watched my friend order things
watched all the families, mostly black, with all their babies and birthday celebrations.
looked at how the women dress, many with purchased nails, some with purchased hair.
almost everyone, men included, looking very dapper, coiffed.
babies laced and plaid shorted up
baby timberlands
MY friend brought me back some of that famous CEC beer.
and we at epizza and wings and mozerella sticks
and i ordered another pizza and bread sticks
and another beer.
and our children ran around like maniacs
and the beer helped me relax.
we stayed for about 4 1/2 hours.
we talked.
she will be starting anew insurance underwriting job soon, and i am glad for her.
she had many things in her life that are burdensome and this is such a relief for her.
she is super intelligent and needs stimulation that this job will provide.

ican hear snl...the girl from precious is on.
i want to watch, but have som uch to do before bed.
i lovethathumour.
southpark dudes are under a deaththreat from some islamic fundamentalists.
damn!
i wonder how salmon rushdie is these days.
saw him in bridget jones
and somewhere else.

Dear Therapist,
fuck everyone....Actually, i don't feel that way at the moment, because i'm home and the air feels good, but this morning it was awful....And the fuckers on the road, and in the school parking lot. and the fuckers who have no qualms inconveniencing you, but you make one little slip-up and they is ready to knock out yo teef.
Hate ya...

dear therapist, jjust listen for awhile.

my house smells like cat pee.
I am so terribly bored.
I have healthy and happy children, so that should be enough. I just don't know how they won't grow to be bored themselves.
I really need an attitude shift. I've never felt as unmotivated in life as I am now.
Nothing really seems to matter, yet everything little thing is so important.
Wow....Jackson Paul does some kick-ass soundeffects....Right now he's doing the best fighter jet sound as he sweeps one across the airspace infront of his face.
I love making compound words out of things that should not be....like, anappple....and addding and extra consonant duplicate (triplicate) just for effect.
I am doing lots of little bitty creative things...recording sounds, which i love going back to.
i picked that up from my friend Cy....He'd carry a recorder with him everywhere, back in highschool, so i copied him.
lack of sleep makes me wish for the big one.
I think if i lived somewhere else for awhile i'd not be so bored. But this is the same thing day in and out...
When we moved out here it was so rural-like in this development.
You could walk outside and hear cows and a donkey....There was no house on either side of us, so there was lots and lots of space....Now it;s just like a regular subdivsion, but it's nice though, not having someone 15 feet from your house.
we have a long fabulous back yard. an acre of land upon which the house sits.
It's nice, very status quo (i guess), but we're paying one hellacious mortgage....it's kicking our asses.
so iam very isolated out here (or so i wish to be, really).....feels a million miles away, at times, from even J.ville.
I like being in downtown j.ville.
interesting and sudued energy. it may be from the river.
I don't like most (straight) women. (terrible generalization here, but they are so darned uptight)They lookat me funny, size meup. And I feel big and clumsy around them. I've always tended to be friends with women who are not really girly, like giggle a lot with me. but i've always been much better friends with men. cliche, for a pretendcool chick to say, but i'm not usually friends with really cool guys, well, at least publicly, it's like a humour affair....I love being friends with men. I really feel a deep masculine connection with them, and not like athletically, or over my capability (lackof) to make big scary things (but i have so been longing to find the gumption to learn how to work withMark's terrifying circular saw that makes my eardrums bleed when it screams).....I want to make nice bookshelves, and storage boxes, and a compost frame
i've used a jigsaw a lot in the past, little things, but it's scary too, it jumps and bumps, tears at the wood.
blech.
things on casters....i'd like lots of things to be on casters. everything. a world on them.
how can one medium sized cat make a whole house smell so rotten?
i do love my lesbian girlfriends. some of them are very beautiful, and very very nurturing.
i don;t relate to goodytwoshoes moms, unless they willlaugh with me when i curse and talk about wishing to have drinks to cope with simple everyday things.....
i can do this thing lately, not often, where i can see a person as energy.
I don't see like glowing masses, or auras, i see the person, but i can sense the energy that makes them matter (molecules and such)...that's all. the electricity that makes their hearts beat. i bet if i practiced focusing on it i'd see it.
Mark has told me to go study and learn metaphysical things. He's said that it is what truly interests me so i should look up classes and learn it but, as usual, i'm not motivated. I think it's lots of things that seemingly hold me back.....Money, nobody to go with, fear of fucking up, driving for ever, forgetting other things that i've committed to, legitimacy, being disappointed by it (and god that happens all the time for me now...I think that's been a strong undercurrent for me....disappointed very easily.....so when i find something that i've connected with, i obsessively have to see it, feel it, get into it, then it becomes bedraggled)
I wonder if i had sisters what that would be like, or if i had good genuine girlfriends, sister like.
i had 3 goodgirlfriends for a while.....1 is very wrapped up in a lifestyle that does not interest me in the least, another is fighting inferiority and depression issues, and the other is trying to keep her family afloat....the latter is my girlfriend i grew up with and she is a saint. Everyone is very concentrated on their own survival, and rightly so.
so, i think i need friends who cuss, drink a little here and there (to cope), laugh over dorky things (a lot), make lots and lots of things-different kinds of things. find my woody allen persona entertaining, work with me on projects....................dammit.......and fucking mentor.....like the old lesbian artist, like a momma/lover
oooooh....that's a good story that pops into my head about my friend JoLie levine and her mama..and that interesting house on Rogero road.
and how that place was so wildly artsy.
and she had melted coke bottles somehow and had them everywhere
and had pasted fab paper things to her floor and polyeurathaned, heavy heavy poly and SOOOOOOOOO shiny, over all of it. that floor was so cool.
And Jolie was gorgeous, short and heavy, but what a face, but she was gross and crass, but i think i'd love that now.
once she said something about feeling shit coming out of her ass, and i was grossed out by her and she'd piss me off a lot too.
and she was bisexual
and she took some pictures of me once, and they were good, and god that was so long ago.
her mama had tons and tons of plants, a very shady small front yard.
I'd see her around at the Arlington thrift stores.
I once saw a very well known Avondale mama (prominent pseudopolitician 2timin hub) at an Arlington thrift store. And i heard that accent as i walked around looking at bricabrac...and some black man in there knew her and talked with her and she was very sweet and talking about how her bounteousbuggy, bursting at the seams with 2nd hand clothes she was purchasing, was lots of "fun" .....and when i heard "fun" i knew it was one of those women from that part of the city because i 'd become familiar with the Jr Leaguers 'use of that term when purchasing an outfit at Steinmart where I'd work the customer service desk and they'd come up to pay for their goodies and let me know they worked in the boutique....and lo and behold, they'd return that sweet little ensemble the next day and get their money back and start thumbing through the next cute little coordinate to wear to some regalia at some waterfront location
And that Avondale mama came around the corner inthe Goodwill on the corner of Rogero and Arlington road and locked eyes with me and looked horrified...I really didn't know her (knew one of her sons) But i knew i'd seen her around here and there growing up in that area.....
and so the rich buy cheap.....good for them.
My girlfriend Kelly F that i studied education with had a daddy with afew million in the bank. she told me he was obessesively frugal.
bought his clothes at kmart and would weare them until they fell off his body...He'd purchased lots of land in the normandy area and had lotsof rental property.....But, he wasn't really living, enjoying life, because he never spent his money.
She was a good person....Kind of crazy, like a bit psycho, big eyes.....but we connected...long gorgeious legs....olive complection...glasses.....kind of looked meditttteraneaon...how the hell????
we've lost contact...I think about reconnecting with her, but she's remarried...I'd never find her.
and we had a mutual friend Heidi...Heidie was super gorgeous....she and her hub were bikers, they lived offf of San Pablo road. we'd get so high, and it was good, and it made feel happy, temporarily. She was a great teacher.
I love pothead teachers.

so what i'd really love to do is type about things other than me, my emotional state, i've seen it done, and am impressed. i don't know how to...the only thing i know kinda well is me.
i know a little about a lot.
can't expound upon politics, or government, economics, literature, forensics, or too much about cookery...
history's blurry, ok with language stuff, teaching as art's becoming fuzzy aswell
Probably could go on and on about philosophy and psychology....not specifics of either, just theorize, hypotheses that will never be proven.
fell in love with Geography in 6th? 7th grade......it clicked, but am amazed at the places i've still never heard of and could never locate.
I am really good at elaborating upon hurt, my sensitivity which has now become disgust, retreat.

God, those words just make me feel funny and twitchy......all over.

the bleeding will come to an end one day and i will be sad, just as i was sad when my children were removed from my body and i would envy pregnant women, no longer though...that has evolved.
and the testosterone levels will rise and i;ll wish to ride a motorbike.
odd litttle organisms we.
and all our functions and the brain that embarrasses us.
But there is something real and human about bleeding and defecating and creating a life with your body.
maybe not exculsively human, but the fact that we are aware, or are w e just weirdos? because maybe the animals know too, consciousness about crapping and screwing, but they don;t contemplate the meaning of it all
So, are we just born to create then die?

And what i liked about mr Crumb's artdiscussion was how he noticedthe electrical/phone/whatever lines running all over the place...had drawn them so precisely.
and as ugly as they are in reality, they are symetrically stunning
And they make me think of musical staffs, especially with the little notes of birdies sitting upon them.
and when they crisscross they become roman and geometric.

my theory is that as primates our young wish to be held a lot because that is how the mama apes and chimps and others do
Ihave to keep my friends baby tomorrow and she will cry unless she is being held, but the nation is recalling the Asian styled slings due to suffocation issues, and I wonder if the Japanese mamas suffocate their young, like we do here
Reading Ghosts from the Nursery about the connection between a human's life in utero and the first 24 months thereafter to violence....like ingestion of toxins and lack of touch and lack of stimulation.....very sad, annd i then begin to theorize about big brother being necessary in these scenarios,.....i have some infantile ideas....i don't know if that's the best word, can't think of anything better, um, hmmmmmm???? like blobby, amorphous, ideas, like jaggedyrough hewn thoughts, like my hair, this way and that...Chinese steppe teeth conjecturing

I don't want to live here, inNorth Florida much longer.
Don';t know how or when, but i wish to go north...higher elevation

quite curiious about men and their sexual appetites
And curious to know the percentage of women with the same level of libido as men and whether it is hormonal or psychologically linked to issues with daddy.

Kind of pisses me off. But i would truly admire men who know the urge is there to stray from a dedicated partner, but do not, EVER....Because they respect that partner, and would not ever wish to inflict emotional turmoil upon them.

And kudos to the women folk who can work through it, especially more than once. Wow.
I'm curious to know the female equivalent of men's infidelity....Like something that will permanently affect the level of trust in the partnership....
Can't be shopping. may be shopping.....debt.
And shame on the harlots who seduce the husband of another woman.
Seduction into crossing the boundary.
I guess many are not worried with Kharma.
I think i just can't imagine doing something to harm another.
I don't think like that.
I wish i could sometimes, because maybe then i'd feel like a normal part of society.
Not caring about how someone else will feel.
I caN imagaine that the 2 involved in the failure of will are so overwhelmed by desire and that overrides everything else. (desire comprised of flattery, insecurity, feeling unfulfilled in life, lack of communication, pheromones)
They do not care about what anyone else will feel, and may consider past offences of the naive partner as justification for following through on adultery.
Sex is rarely something I;m driven by....
attraction is another story for me, greatly driven by attraction to another man, but to follow through with illicit action is far too sticky (literally and figgy)
Blech....
iwill create a potion.
One that will allow us to feel the excitement of desire, but know where to draw a line
And that is such a warm sensation. To know that you have feelings for someone, but your self respect and the love and respect you have for the others involved keeps you focused and inline and able to greet St Peter with your shoulders back.

I watched a wonderful documentaRy once on rOBERt Crumb....Happened upon it accidentally, did not know who he was, and was not immediately entranced by the program, until i started feeling his character, and the character of his wife, and his brothers...And what a creepy fucking lot they are/were.
Mr Crumb is a gangly marionette in 1940's suits
Mrs. Crumb is (at the time) earthy and aloof (laterwatched something online about their lives in france now and she is completely like Betsy johnson'ed out....fuscia hair, black and pink laced trimmed tunics...almost Rosanna roSanna bandana haired)
the one brother, thin, palid, dishwater hair, obsessed with molesting Asian women.
The other brother, lived with mother, and in his portions of the clip you could hear her squawking in the background...so very Norman Bates-like
I am taken with this brother.
So depressing. Fat, greasy, oily looking dress shirt that was probably worn day-after-day...I believe he confessed that he rarely bathed.....had an overbite.
Had books everywhere....That's basically all he did. Just sit at home and read.
And he satin his bedroom, oily sheets on the mattress
Conversing with mother in a mild depressed yell
Admitted to haveing attempted suicide, maybe more than once.
They were so weird
But i think of that brother, with all the books, and the greasy body and bed, and i feel akin to him.
And why I do is because i am retreating from everything, living only in my world, and while i am not voracious withthe literature, i do find pleasure in losing myself, living vicariouslythrough the characters, in those worlds.....I 've alwways dones This, even as a child, daydreaming about being an adult and how fun and carefree everything would be, everyone would love me and i'd love living.
That brother eventually succeeded in killing himself.

i forget about npr Science Friday, all the time....listened once, with Krystal Club chick and icy soda in hand, to a report on lasers being shot across mirrors and it did something with time, but as usual my retention fails me.
I can see the and hear (all imagined) the colors and laser sounds...like whooping, buzzing, connecting with the corners....i believe there was mention of a vortex.

my kidz iz so pissy...so i try to mildly beat...mostly actafool

i have got 2 hamsters who are so damned sexy.
one is albino and seemed so curious, came up to the glass of the aquarium acting all friendly like...so i was like, "ooooh, i've got to have her, but I;ll get the companion too to keep her from being lonely"
Sister whitey is a biting bitch....she come up to sniff your finger then chomp down.
the fat fluffy mixed dark cage mate is docile and lets you kiss her and snuggle...
They are Russian Dwarves....
I think i've talked of them.

meow little bunny

I believe that some, maybe all, "ghost" experiences can be scientifically connected to wormholes, timetravel, dimensions of time that still exist....it's still the 1940's in Amercia somewhere, they are living just as we in this millenium...Just as it is 300 years later here, somewhere, and someone, something, has tuned into my frequency as I type this drivel and is experiencing my obsolete technological interference over their brainwave 4 ziggabing capacity fingerprint and retinal indentification modulator in order to help their offspring complete an overdue homework assignment...They too are assaulted by wafts of male catpiss and are perplexed as their cyborg catpanions were programmed to be free of any waste relief necessity 2 years earlier.

Many years ago I befriended a couple that I worked with at a copy center. They were fabulous and frumpy and typical for the type i bond with. She was heavy set, vocal, and an avid reader. He was short, thin, and resembled John Lennon crossed with Richard Gere. Elizabeth and Rob.
I've searched for them, but have had no luck in their location.
We went together one night to see Shakepeare in the Park..I don't remember which play....Twelfth nIght maybe, but i don't remember a bit of it...I think it was so darned muggy and difficult to hear.
We then went to Rob's house....For the people i grew up with they'd know which house it is..It is on Park Street almost at the intersection of McDuff Ave....It is a large brick home, looks to be 3 storied with dormer windows across the top floor.
His mother greeted us warmly and mingled with our trio discussing the evening and making me feel at ease in their home. The house was not ornate, but contained a few relics or odd bits of interest to me. One such trinket was a human skull, behind a paned glass cabinet door. I believe I asked about it, but can't remember who or why or whatever. Something seemingly uneventful happened, maybe a thump or chill, truly nothing worthy of much analysis, and Rob's mom joked that it might have been their ghosts....
Ghosts!? oh my!!!! one of the only bits of otherworldly phenomena that captures my fascination.....I had only recently become more interested in hearing others' accounts of these experiences and would occassionally catch something on our then still very conservative television programming or the radio....I told them of having listened to Rock 105 a few Halloweens back when they, Lex and and woman, maybe Rose, maybe Rose and Terry, were in an "undisclosed location in Riverside" and were having all sorts of odd experiences....The 2 I recall were the air becoming suddenly chilled and the disembodied voice of a young girl.
My hosts began giggling and disclosed that THEY were the "undisclosed" location being broadcast that Pagan Holiday. I felt warm and tingly at this odd coincidence.....and they went further to tell of other experiences and research that had been done on their home.
Rob's mother had married Alan, the homeowner. Both he and Rob's mother were architects, Alan of buildings, she of landscape. The 3rd floor of their home was where their offices were housed. It was an attic, but a very structured attic, very floor-like....beautiful stairs leveling to a landing of wood floors with enclosed offices on either side. When Rob was meeting his soon to be step-father for the first time, he stood in the doorway of Alan's office looking around and shooting the breeze. He told me that as he stood conversing, he turned to look around at the office across the floor and caught the sight of a young girl in clothing from a different decade. He said that as she retreated back into the room he asked Alan if she was his granddaughter. Alan smiled and informed Rob that he did not have any grandchildren and that it was the ghost of a girl residing in the home.
My thrilled chill was growing greater and I longed to hear more.
The mother told me they'd used a Ouija board once and received word that there was the spirit of a maid in the home who'd met her demise tumbling down the staircase...I believe Rob's mother told me that she had experienced the feeling of the maid falling through her once as she sat on the stairs.
Rob also told me of phantom smells at 4 in the morning. Bacon and eggs cooking in the kitchen with nobody awake in the home....My favorite of his recollections is when his house key had gone missing. Now I too suffer greatly from this condition, entire collections of janitor/landlord loads of keys on a ring completely vanished, but I am the ghost responsible for that absent mindedness.
He had searched everywhere, for days and days and accepted that his housekey was gone and that he'd have to own up to his irresponsibility. He sat lounging one afternoon in a skinny almost porch-like tv room. Nothing on the walls above him, no shelves or ledges or anything that would allow for the placement or forgetful dropping of a key. Rob sat with his arms outstretched, palms facing up, across the back of the couch. The key dropped into his right hand....He said he felt it plop down, and I like to imagine that he just kind of sat there, not immediately looking because he knew what had happened was not anything within the confines of our text-book schooling on reality.
He said that it seemed as if the ghosts enjoyed playing very innocent tricks on them at times.
They had contacted paranormal investigators who came to the home and gave a beautiful overveiw of what was going on.
The structure and been a boarding house during th 40's. Many engergies coming and going and the house to them had been warm and full of comfort. The spirits chose to remain there for that reason. The ghost of the girl was that of the homeowner's granddaughter. Her room had been what was now Rob's mother's office. Years later, as i would recount this story to people interested in listening, i surmised that the smells of breakfast were risidual engeries from preparing food early enough in the morning for your paying guests. Nothing horrific, nothing evil, just people who found comfort wishing to remain enveloped in that sensation even in their afterlife.
I believe i will be found in England, probably at my grandmother's home, not inside, maybe on the skinny dark wood porch that had lots and lots of windows, and in her back garden, running my ethereal fingers over the sweetly scented roses my grandfather was skilled in growing.

currently reading last of the Twilight books...
I can't decide if they've consumated, she's bruised on her arms and torso, and he's bitten feather pillows....I'm confused.

Everyday, she promised me that she'd get something done, refrain from hours spent thinking out loud, and everyday she admitted that she'd tell herself she'd only "look quickly" to see if anyone cared, but then she realized that she was just about the only one entertained by it.

And there were some thoughts, a lot like her own, more evolved in most facets (based on experience and lack of hinderance).....and she wished terribly to converse with the thinker 24 hours a day. But, in her wisdom (acquired through blunder) she realized that she must discover others with this same perspective....surely they must exist....or were they bogged in the exhaust and asphalt and deadline mire she'd escaped from not long ago?????

Patience, learning to listen (slow the pulse), and appreciation of what is....now.....not what will be.
god, i really want a pool.

Beginning to contemplate homeschooling my children.
Only so that i can have a stronger connection with them and learn what they are learning.
Now, i do not socialize much at all so i would need lots of groups for them to be part of.
And it could work, but i can't tolerate the "are you saved" crap. And a lotof the groups are centered around that. And y'know, it's wrong of me to pass my judgement upon those individuals or groups who profess devotion to a certain faith (i harbor resentment for personal experiences revolving around the stipulations and dogma and weakening attempts to still control groups through exclusion of others unless they believe as we do)
Sidebar: i tend not to immediately recoil from individuals who study or participate in Judaism or any of the Eastern faiths, etc.....but that probably is connected to my early encounters with religion. my mama raised a Roman Catholic in Scotland...guilt in the 40's and 50's, mine more to do with attending friends' southern churches of a certain denomination and the show of sin spewing and crying on the stage/altar, loud finger pointing and witnessing requirements..i just could never get into that.....Oh my gosh....and here's an even better sidebar.....After i'd finally realized that i was not cutout for the southern conventions and having to constantly detremine if my thoughts were those of sin and if so must repent and shouldn't associate with others unless they have "accepted Jeezusas their saviour" I spied my girlfriend in 10thgrade English looking forlorn and perplexed...She was one with whom i'd attended 2 or 3 HUGE services at a HUGE downtown church.....I was beginning to pull away from this friendship (lots of reasons, not just religious, she was way better than me at just about everything so i felt super stupid) and in this conversation she began to open up to me about some of the failings that she saw among the teenaged youth at her church.....And what's funny is that i've heard this same mentality reccounted by others.
She painted a portrait of big downtown church youth populace commited to no sexual intercourse before marriage....Must remain vaginally intact (my words, not then though, i just listened.) But, and she began crying as she confessed their misdeeds...........
her best girlfriend in the group was performing unimaginable felatio upon her fellow bible boybuddy. and it was commonplace among many of the cute good-book-toting couples.
They believed this to be acceptable in the eyes of the Lord........"I promise you Jesus, there was no penetration involved.....wanna see, fresh and ripe as the day is long, oh holy host."
So yeah, must work on developing more acceptance of those who profess a devout belief in Christianity, even the fundamental crap, long as it don't try to make me feel bad.But only i allow others to make me feel bad.....damn! i'm such a bloody pushover.....
Um.....homeschooling.
Deep South = fundamentalist homeschool social groups....crap!
There must be some who homeschool who are just seeing the changes in the system and the problems public schools are facing and the trend toward disrepect as the norm who wish to nurture a true love of knowledge acquistion and familial interaction....bonding with my brood academically. You are God....Humanity and Creation.....Creating
JesusGod and Buddha and Mr D Lama and Mario Lopez and my cherry blossom tree that's not dead!!!!!! hallelujah!!!!!!
I've killed God quite a few times.

My Dad spent some years of his youth in Orange Park..It's what I know of his mother; her little home on DeBarry almost meeting Kingsley Ave. To this day there stands, very near that intersection, the layout of what used to be a chimpanzee research facility.

Sidebar: Years back I discovered a beautiful 2 cassette tape set at my dollarstore haunt. It is a story written and narrated by a gentleman whose life has been dedicated to the study and understanding of Chimpanzee psychology and our nearly identical physiological and emotional functioning with theirs. In the story he mentions this facility and his relationship with some chimps who'd been part of the research in this place.

Everyday I allow myself to retreat into memories of comfort and nostalgia. Many of them involve experiences from my childhood, some grand, but most of them very simple in nature.
Freedom, warmth (emotional and thermal), beauty, laughter, and discovery.
One of these images that I periodically draw upon is that of a little snippet my father shared with me.
As a young boy he would walk down to a tiny store on Kingsley Ave to purchase candy (the building is still there, right at the railroad track, but it is now a real estate place, shower liners, something?). This was the 1950's so one can conjure Happy Days images, Stand by Me ball caps and hightops, blue jeans, cars with big fat fenders, racial oppression, and soda shoppes.
For some reason, these very short and simple recollections are what stick with me, but basically, his story is that as he was in there himming and hawing and finger biting over which candy to choose. A chimp handler was down in the store with one of the beasts in tow. It snatched the ball cap off my boyfather's noggin.....I could embellish and say it took off like a mad-hatter (too easy not to do it) and ran and jumped and bounced like a trick-can snake, but i don't remember that part of the story. I just think of my dad as a sweet innocent and feel that those random and uncommon events bring some levity to our lives when it seems as if there is so little anymore that touches us deeply or gives us pause to relax or giggle or appreciate something spiritually simple.

so i'm wanting to spell lke the ARabic sound like youre clearing your throat.
like ugh and blech together.
like ichgh...or ughch......i am an expert with that sound.
And there was a reason i wanted to start witht that onomatopoeia.
ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm????????
my house smells like unfixed male cat peepee
that's not it.
He smells so good though. like my granny's perfume....some old orange blossom thing.
Maybe, ding ding, here it is.
I get excited, if there's abit of cash to blow, or even if i can jsut get out after having been cooped in cally for a few days, to just get groceries or something.
So, i plan, somewhat, not my strong suit.
i plan on what to buy....eveyrone tells me to keep a list to keep organized and remember what to do , but i make them and lose them. find them later and reminisce.
and down into this little burrow.......I LOVE, LOVE!!!!! finding discarded shopping lists. (belonging to others)
so, back up, i go to the store, list in hand, or pocket, or the fathoms of my purse/s...bags, satchels.
and we go in, and we're ok for awhile, then all the people start to get to me, and seeing the money disappear, and the looks and energies that some people emit and they look like they want to kill you.
and i come home exhausted, frustrated, questioning everything.
The other day, after a few stupid incidents, i forced the children to help me carry things and wished to be in the middle of a hundred acres....yeah, so serial freak-asses mayb e watching, but my god, how wonderful to only hear or see robins, and hawks, and titmice, and starlings and squirrels. and all my buildings i'd have.
I remind myself of the woman from the Martain chronicles( mininseries, but i think i might like to attempt the literature) who has free reign of everything. i just wants lots of buildings....
We went once to this place here at the fairground...it was a girlscout thing with which i wasn't impressed, and that is unfair of me because they were doing their best, but the building had captured my attention and i visualized it being mine.
And it was huge and ugly. a big metal roofed and walled, concrete floored structure...Freezing in the winter, sweltering summer oppression. I could see a corner with a refrigerator and a stove and some counters and a sink. and shelves with a rolling staircase and a cold metal balcony around the perimeter....and just so much space.
I'd fill it in no time.
but i'd somehow get lots of machines.
and lots of tables and things on casters.
hydraulic things.
air compressed
and speakers with awesome woofers or subtweeters.......i should make myself learn those.
oh, and a wall of things that light up.
I'd have lots of those things on a hundredacres.
and make big vintage pooh beings.
maybe sculpture
Epcotlike
grapevine or chicken wire with flowers blooming, or covered in moss.
and lots of spriraling topiaries.
the Garden of Abdul Gasazi.

i spied, while walking through my supercenter grocery arena maybe 3 days ago, a very fit looking woman, young. Huge angel wing tatoo across her back, wearing a black tanktop.
bilateral cut hair-long bits in front, spikey ends....burgundy or rust red. short back, cropped.
Fab Paloma Picasso nose, smaller scale.
small build, but muscular.
trendy hot tennies on.
black sweats, croppped style
with a red strip running betweenn the cheeks of her buttox.
So clearly defined and intended as such to accentuate them.

i do have fun with them sometimes.
i think i just can't keep up like they do.

I wonder if i should change some things in the story below, yes, i;m scared.
I wonder if i should change them so i can deny any connection to my life.
like, it's fiction folks. my attempt at creative writing. pissy creative writing.
But there's something kind of thrilling knowing it's there.
God, they'd really hate me if they read it.
My spouse would be so freakin angry.
And we'd be back to square 1...maybe even like -4 or something.

twice now i've been offended by mark's sister. the younger of the 2. old she is, old like my parents. 60's
I bloody said that he was a great cook and she said, "is it out of neccesity Lisa?!"
OMYfREAKIN! GOD....why do people think that's cute.
i'm not a bitch, but other people think they can be so and it's ok????????
She asked me if iwas cooking osmething great for his a birthday a week ago.
i said it was whatever i thawed out....and by the way, what i cooked kicked ass.
and i made lotsofo oatmeal cookies and she was like,"good for you" fuck you!
oooooh....where is my inner bitch
See, i'll finally say something aobut them being prudish ignorant asses from the fucking bumpkin deep sound raised by a dumb-ass mama who don't know nuthin other than waitin own the men folk and thinkin god floatin round own a throne in the sky (how boring he is)
I believe that my days of leisure in my home here will be over if this is ever read by one of the clan.
I'm so bored with all of them.
and it's by choice, i could try to have beige color coordinated walls with crown mouldy and burber and all that perdy stuff.
I could try to throw any and everything away that'snot current, or that's broken, or that's deemed sacreligious
I could try to host Pampered cheff parties, and jewelry parties, and gourmet sauce parties, and make sure my children are dressed in matching madras or leather tennies or keep by boy's hair short and cropped so he don't look like some homo-seck-shoe-ull
but y'know, i could and i would be sick, but goddern, i'd have my social hour i so long fer.

oh and my comic books that i found at dollar tree.
they have little trading cards insidethe pkg
they are mostly ATeam
there are some that are different
a tomcat airplane
and something else,

i wish my eyes were recorders, and my cochlea, andmy hands.
my eyes especially
As i drove to my airport shopping center i saw a placccard sign resting on some dudes leg that looked elf-life. the man was sitting behind the poster, shielded from something.
The sign was adverstising Banana's bar and grill, something, in that shopping center.
I could see the metal folding legs of the chair he rested in.
As we drove by, and it's quick there because people are coming off the interstate and going and going and going so i didn't get a super long stare, i was able to peek quickly behind the sign to see this poor fool dressed in a beautiful and bright banana suit. so pissed that this was what he had to do for 7.33 an hour.
God Damn! i could not stop laughing and my son was like, "what mommy, what mommy, what mommy!?" and that is wehn i'd wished that my eyese were a camera....i'll never be able to draw him a such, or if i did i'd fret and take 2 months and forget it and screw it up.

Petra Pan

the MOvie gallery is closing here in Callahan.
When i was told this i did not think that i would care to go.
I believe/d myself to be free of the lure of cheap and many.
It began with all 6 seasons of Buffy..... 3.99 each.
then found some movies....frida, just like heaven, rachel getting married, royal tannnnenbombs.
others. but yesterday, Yes! yesterday, back again, 3rd trip, found this movie about this guy. French...makes videos for rockstars. first name Michel. he's made vidz for bjork and the foo fighters and chemical bros and Beck and my fave...and i was entranced yrs ago by it and thought of it not long ago, the daft punk vid for around the world, which can seem boring, but once you stare at it you feel like you wantto copy the dance moves and their like on a cake and they're robots, and skeletons and mummies. and it's just so groovy.
But, and this is happening more and more and i should remember to write them, or record them on my new diggie voice recorder, or something, is just the odd blurbs that i've thought or briefly vocalized that manifest themselfves.....
and, back to the but, i liken myself to a 12 yr old metality....13 denotes some form of pubescent growth toward adult hood so 12 it is.
Well, mr Michel has on this dvd menu, a vid of him playing drums with 2 boys, maybe his, under the snare or the timpani ( i do not know what theyare called, but i nknow those terms, and steel and bongo,ooooh na dtalking drum and kettle and...) and on the crash cymbal i think, is a choice that says something along the lines of never having grown older than 12....OMG! He is one of my people. but we'll never meet.
He and Bjork are friends. but i can't take many of her songs. a little, and a movie with her in it going blind. it was bleak. and nobody else watched it with me.

i wonder why we don't look more like the sun or the rain.

And on the note of the "crap" i like to buy:
Who buys all the comic books, or little plastic containers,
and there were these lovely unfinished display boxes, maybe 6" in diameter, glass door
and i got some, but man, they went so quickly.
i see things and think that nobody else wants this crap so i'll buy some now and come back for more later and i'm too late then.

daydreaming of escape, with my subatomics intact, and seeing a different landscape.
Plates of earth shoved into the sky, or arid plains, or cold green northwest with the Pacific tumbling and crashing toward it.
Or something of Mexico
Or onion domes
Or even the unmerciful frozen waste of the poles.

Funny the degree of difficulty with which one must experience life in order to grow.
And yet others seem to be free of this plague.

I think i have like Right Hip cancer....what's over on that side?

I am tickled. The foolishness of my faux pas yesterday has left me in a state of mild dismay, but in light of that humility I am comforted to have the means, meager as they may be, to take my child and go get some groceries (really into making cookies and things lately...will attempt cinnamon rolls this weekend, oh god, yeast and rolling out dough, but i can do it, or curse it all to hell)
And i will also, and this makes me giddy, go to the Dollar Tree and get these fab 2 packs of comic books.....all sorts from the 80's and early 90's.......love the format and colors and frozen images...flawless skin. they also have these little tiny plastic containers to hold little tiny things.
Need plecos for some tanks. 2 maybe or 3.
JP and i will eat lunch while we are out. we have an Orange Tree and it's quick and cheap. tired of Taco Bell, oooh, but they have that shrimp taco now.
Must stay away from Michaels. they have all these books that i have coveted, but it would cost probably 200 bucks to get them all, and if i can't have them all then i'll not have any (not really)
Plus, like the Dollar Tree, it's easy for me to get into trouble over 1$ things....like i end up with 50 or so...and michaels has the best dollar stamps and stickers and marked down...some of it's good mark down....
God, this is my life. I believe i am working on my own little Vaudeville show here, at this house. an Audience of 3, until the offspring see through me.
Yay! New Moon movie released tomorrow......
Need to buy the last of the books.
Oh boy. I am reading this speculative sciencefiction book, all sorts of short stories perfect for my attention issues, and i got it at my beloved airport Dollar Tree, and it had been a regular bookstore book and it is brillie....some of the books there reveal to me why they were shipped to the discount place, but this one is quite engrossing and has very plausible ideas...like national alleigance to a corporation, I believe it is called Ubermart, instead of a country because the health benefits are far superior, and Berlin surrounded by a thick wall that is electrically magnetized by super charged bullets flying around inside of it, and wine corks being outlawed and some type of plastic plug being the replacement....have only read about 4 of the stories so far.
Made oatmeal raisin cookies this morning for Mark to take with him to some big basketball thingy...like watching games ALL day, then breaking for 2 hours and tailgating, then going back to watch games until midnight, then going back again on Sunday. i find basketball sexy....and i saw beautiful patterns one time, watching a game at a now defunct bar, and it was an overhead angle and the players were almost dancing and of course, my mind was slightly altered so that helped me to see the nuances and the squeaking rubber and hollow bounce sounds are.... are ....
i'm trying to think of a word, like indicative, that means that the sounds, if they were isolated without visual, would conjure images only of basketball. assigned only to that game....no squeaking in football or soccer or baseball, volleyball maybe...just not the number of bounces.

well, I was going to go on about having deeply offended my troubled friend, but instead i'll reminisce about the cat that Lee and i found in the street, many years ago, that had been hit by a car.
We were absolutely baked, and he and i have discussed the fondness with which we remember those days....utterly stoned and eating and laughing and listening to good music while we drove around.
We came upon this cat one night in our neighborhood...It was sitting in the middle of the road.
It looked like it was eating something or throwing up maybe...As we got closer we realized it was puking blood. It had defecated as well and was in a dazed state...As i write this i begin to feel such grief thinking of it...i am recalling it in great detail...
It was a black and white cat, tuxedo maybe...we went to 2 or 3 doors to see if the cat belonged to someone...Nobody claimed the dying beast, but one woman suggested getting a shovel and bashing it over the head. Nobody was willing to do that, so someone found a piece of plywood and we inched its body up onto it and put it into the back of Lee's car.
We drove into San Marco where there was a 24 hour emergency veterinary service.
We listened to the cat's breathing become more and more labored. I believe his lungs were filling with blood and when we pulled him from the car his eye had begun to inflate like a balloon.
As we entered, a man stood talking to the woman at the desk about his frickin' dog itching and itching...and we're holding a bloody animal that needs to be euthanized, but the dog is just itchin'....She acknowledged us and we had to fill-out a few forms swearing to JayZuss that it's not our cat....meanwhile, the poor soul is moaning and choking on blood, but i've got to sign some more forms, hold-on kitty, you can wait for a few more minutes, quiet that rasping down
They took him, and we were solemly sober for the rest of the night....maybe a few tokes to erase the horror of it all.

As much as one may try to be tidy and clean, spicky span, deodorized, sanitzed, there will still be that big dark curly pube on the cheese cube. Just waiting amongst the fruit and water crackers. cracked pepper and chutney.

I dreamt last night of a few scenarios...but the one that i remember most, and they're always the most random blurbs of subconscious weirdness (but normal...most of the time, except when i flew a stool around the room in one...it was like a rocket) is where a man, maybe-like Hispanic or Asianesque, was sitting in the backseat of a car with me and someone else and was going on and on and on about being a devout Catholic and not allowing anything in his home or with his family that was objectionable or unhealthy...I believe it was no TV, no music, no crap food, and there were some other weird ones that i don't recall.

And tonight i talked to the office lady at WD here in Cally as I was applying for a gas money saving card...perks or something.
We had a great conversation which stemmed from the fact that even this bloody card has frickin' stipulations....must use it by a certain time or you lose the benefits that you earned....ugh! i said, in a round-about way....and I continued with a story about how i am tired of all the steps and procedures and mandates and requirements and stips and blips and flips and farts to get any frickin' thing done....applying for this, filling this out to receive some crap-shit benefit, having to prove this and that about yourself, bloody character references, letters of rec, "we can't do that for you until you've done this" or "we don't do it that way because this may happen"......effffem all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i wish to sleep. and i'll regret my lack of motivation in about 5 or 10 yrs., but this is it? that's my question.. This is what i was so eager to be an adult for? blech.
You don't know your kids when you're little so you can't really factor your feelings for them in, but the rest is quite laughable.
On the bus on field trips I'd look down into people's cars and long to be an adult, now i look up and wish to be back on the bloody bus....not really....schools are quickly becoming socialist experiments as well....subterfuge......Communism on its way....and there's something appealing about the ultimate goal of that form of govy....but it also falls short of its intended outcome....all of our (humanity;s)efforts seem to be in vain
But, back to WD lady
So, we're talking and agreeeing and then crap about Revelations and the numbers and shit comes up and I don't know what to say when people start talking religious crap....the number of the beast was assigned to Nero...that's all....it doesn't mean anything else.....but she knew that i didn't have much to say because she gave me funny look....and i got quiet...we'd agreed about everything until then.....so i am a heathen and a heretic.
that;s my new band name
Heathens and Heretics

What's the difference i wonder?

Yes. It's time to "make" friends.

clickety clackety of the keys.....
Love button clicking.
snapping and popping.
Leaves Crunching
That was a noise I was very attuned to as a child.

And this is the thought i wished to share.
Crap...it's gone...Dammit!
hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Oh, yes
This lonliness...
most likely self-imposed
isn't necessarily bad....i feel it is most of the time, but here's a different take, that i'll probably never act upon
If i had numerous siblings and close ties with lots of people and friends, i'd be obligated to all sorts of things that I'd basically SUCK at.
Like being mindful of milestones and celebrations......buying crap, taking people places.
And while these things would definitely help me grow and develop bonds and all that jazz, i'd feel burdened by the demand.
That, i have decided, is my number one foible....I'm not good with other people making demands......
I could maybe take, at this point in my life, a little constructive input on something and maybe some directional advice, but a demand to be robotic on a daily basis, smile, act warm and friendly, suck-it-up kinda crap would mean going back to all the years I've already served on those lines, and handled well 94% of the time.
the other 5% has scarred me. (no memory of that missing percentage)
So, i will create these people.
these friends, and relations.
I'd be close to my English cousins...I know i would.
maybe
I'd alienate them too.
no i wouldn't
We are apart for years, then, when we reconnect, it's like we've never been away from one another.
Oh, those are lovely storybook memories.
I'll makeup friends and relations
And foe
And the people lately, who've wounded my fragile shell, will be divine as such.
Like, can be really sweet, outgoing, seemingly interested, then flip and turn....some slowly, others as manic dollies....the kind that flip inside out......Don'tknow what they're called.
My friend drew some lovely ones once
...
flippy dolls.
poppets
Halloween town mayor, except not happy and capable and sad and fearful.
Sweet and Sadistic.
surfacey composed/sheepish robot......geers and cogs just'a churnin'
Eff'em all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


GOD dANG!!! where are my fellow weirdoze!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!???? where?
maybe they're not about the whining
Maybe they too like to get things done, instead of sitting here and staring at the pond that is flowing to the left and Mr Shelton bringing his garbage can in....
I shall die bored.
Hurt feelings
Lots of cracks and bleedy sacrum. ( i looked that one up and it's not what i thought it meant...it's to do with bones and vertebrae and triangles, but it sounded to me like ooozie egg whites and yolk)

I'm craving a drive to keystone heights, and the warm sun on my legs on the dashboard and stopping at BiLo or piggly wiggly or WD and getting gatorade and granola bars
and going to Sandy's parents lakehouse and sitting on that whiteish sand and discovering black shelled clams deep in the wet sand on the shore.
the warm sun on my form.
and hair blowing and sticking to spit on my lips.
And there were years with other friends where we floated on some dock in the middle-ish
And we saw the rings of Saturn through the telescope
And we heard a loud boom as the Space Shuttle re-entered the atmosphere.
And Kelly's parents' house was little and cinderblock cold
and we all got stoned at her bridal party there.
And sunburned even though it was overcast.
And the nothingness that was built around there.
Which is not nothing anymore


And it makes me think too of my dad teaching me to drive in Middleburg
In 1984 or 85
That beautiful mustard subaru....black interior
so little and quick and buzzy sounding.
and stick shift and jerky
And it was cold there that November...I remember it so well....and it was dirt roads...nicely constructed dirt roads...plowed or something i guess..
tall pines lining either side.
I learned to drive there...and i took to it very well
Because I'd watched my dad drive all those years before
Hearing the soft dry scratchy sound and the steering wheel gently slipped and turned under his palms.

my son refuses to come inside, when i need to
So i tell him,"Gosh...I hope some creepy person doesn't come along and get you....They will do awful things to your body and kill you"
And he responds, "Creepy people live in haunted houses.."
So i come back in and go about my chores.
CinderElly

Big Bulbous Butts are awesome....If they are smooth and sphere like.....can't be cellulitey....

And see, it's safe for me to write this...Ain't nobody in the fam half interested in what I got to say....And so good for me...I'll just say fuck 'em all!!!!!!! Boring asses....
Blech....Beige fucking walls.....Anal Retentive bullshit.
I can't get the goddamned cat down..
He's been there since last night...stupid ass.
Boring Boring Boring
Oh how i love my cocoon.
I shall be just like my grandmother who lived in the little ol house that my grandpa built.
Cedar panels inside, termite pocked.
Smelled like kerosene, and everything was old and dingy (din-gee?)
Like vaguely remember a faded hotpink kitchen, maybe lemon yellow?
Kerosene always makes me think of Agnes' house.
And she had this little ol porch where she'd housed some little weiner dogs....and a chiuaua named peanut
And in the last years she lazed about all day on an old sheet covered couch, drinking iced tea, watching cooking shows or game shows and completing crossword puzzles.
Her mother's another story...Not too much to it. Just a few weird observations.
This is bullshit.
I wish to live another life.
Nobody gives a shit.

So, in my 12 year old mentality (one of such that is enamoured by glittery and sparkly things, and only ever wishes to be silly, and feels like just about everyone is older and knows more) I have been hurt again.
There is a new baby in the family and, God help me, because her parental figures have pissed me off, i don't care to look at or touch it or coo over it.
We were informed that they, the parents, wanted everyone to sanitize their hands and whatever before holding/interacting with the baby.
We did so, the kids did so....High alcohol content burned the bejeezus outta the cuts on my fingers and hands.
My daughter was so excited to see her young cousin. She's the reason we went, otherwise i might have forgone the visit and waited until the family gathered again...Eastery.
As we entered the room we were greeted with smiles and welcomes and hellos and a birthday wish for Mark tomorrow.
The baby was held by her maternal grandmother who, while very attractive and intelligent, does not give off a warm vibe. And the kicker is , she's a minister's wife...This is the 2nd time I've met her and it's the same energy each time.
My daughter asked me, almost as soon as we entered the room, if she could hold the baby..
I knew they'd be funny about it. I told her that she was being held at the moment and was sleeping and that we'd see them soon for Easter. She was disappointed with that.
She let it go for a bit. We all talked and laughed..whatever...then she got the balls up to go ask herself...She asked the grandmother who quietly said something to her then turned to her daughter who replied in affirmation to whatever her mother had asked...My beautiful girl walked back to me dejected. And i felt that warm and mild fury overcoming me...Anyone who talked seemed to be a tunnel of sorts...All I could think of was that I didn't care about being there anymore, listening to their bullshit, oooing and ahhhing crap....nope! That was it for me.
I wanted to stand up and clarify why my 7 year old intelligent and gentle child could not hold their freakin' baby for probably 2 minutes...But, that's not how I do things...and sometimes i wish i just freakin' could....Just be a bitch if something is stupid or unfair....Yo GD baby ain't made-a fragile porcelain....Sorry...not nice...She's quite lovely and delicate, this little thing, but baby immunity is impenetrable when they are newborn. I mean, let this young girl hold your baby....God Dang...
So, that ol' bitch woman got up and handed the baby to her daughter, who did not begin nursing or feeding that baby, and she left the room (was on the phone when we were walking out and almost ignored us as we walked by....ew...yuck!) Georgia asked once more and the dad, very reluctantly, sat down with her and held her, while my child had to lean in for a picture...didn't let her hold her....WTF!?...that shit makes me crazy!......i really don't like people much...persnickety shit.....don't really care bout that baby now....
Oooooh...i knowze i should toin d'othah cheek....I'ze knowz it.
Datz not easy fo me.....specially when my kid's been dissed.
Blech.....i'm not real happy 'bout livin' today....Hate all these stupid fucking issues....Hate 'em...
How do others deal with them?

now he's making some weird gutteral meow and stripping leaves off the branches with his teeth

my young cat is currently stuck, about 50 or so feet up, in one of our oak trees.

We've just returned from celebrating Mark's impending 50th birthday with his family.
I was surprised at the turnout.

so i watch Selma Hayack as Frida k and i feel ok living. And the things, most things, that we do to one another. the things that happen....
And i long for a succulent and cacti garden...
and i think of my failed attempts.
and i'm willing to try again.
I have a dead one, in a big clay pot, that has blackened from the freezes.
I'd had it for awhile.
And i let it die.
I've killed lots of th ings.

Today, as i was leaving the store at the airport, i quickly spotted the body of a black cat that had been hit by a car and had come to rest in the middle of the lane that divides the shopping center in half....It was so peculiar to see a cat there, in that business place, in the middle of the cars that barely have enough patience to wait for an elderly bus rider to cross. He looked velvety and young and i thought of my young cat. I was horrified and obsessed and considered photographing his sad form there, but i didn't feel like fumbling for the camera. As i passed in front of him i saw that he'd only recently been killed..A crimson pool had poured from his mouth onto the asphalt and was still bright in the sunlight.

And this blasted movie maker!...how can a lover be so delightful, full of surprises, yet constantly leaving one in a state of confusion? cruel and fickle....left hanging....having to figure out what went wrong, and if he is coaxed ever so.......particularly.. then he concedes and we begin again...or end it....We're still together....just working through some things.
I ended my interaction his older sister not long ago, and although she was not quite as current/hip/updated, she was quick and very easy to work with.....really quick...I mean, this new guy...i sometimes gotta go eat a sandwich or somethin.....he just takes so darn long.