"Nick Cade could shoot his arm full of crack and then no change would have occured-" Or something along those lines- Snapped me out of my ants-y-ness- and in three seconds- I thought of my arm, ripped open, heart bursting and bloated, Nan Goldin, and my mother. Blinking back into the lecture, I thought of my career, and then the thin scabbing on my knuckles. Good morning Good morning Good morning Good morning Good morning Algorithmic Communities. I don't want to write. I want to have sex. And as you'd think this blog would simply be "brain dumping"- that my streams of consciousness are ever flowing and all exposed, I cannot bring myself to sum up the achey and sopping mess thats been occupying my brain into any productive poet speak. I have already told you, or someone has told you better, or perhaps you don't deserve to know, or I can't open that up to you yet. I've been obsessive about the ecstasy of my physical form. I mull over fantasies, I...
i've fallen out of habit and i am the paying the consequences of doing so. but things happen in these synchronic loops, seasonal sacred geometry, allusions to religious syncretism. i try to remember everything but i end up lying in bed too heavy. little things, like yelling at my dad, birds in the winter time, estranged eye contact and devotion to the stomach send me back on track. i keep getting distracted. let me tell you about what i really want. i want a 2 story house with an attic and a basement. i want old wood floors and an ornate fireplace. i want a personal library and a home computer. i want an attic where i can make a guest room with a triangle ceiling and a circle glass window and i can sit on an old couch and smoke inside. i want big couches and turkish glass lamps and oriental rugs and throw pillows with tassels. i don't drink red wine but i want a big rack of it for my friends. i want a queen bed with a feather duvet and 2 cats. i want a kitchen i can bake brea...
i wish that i felt better. i wish that my brother would talk to me more often. i wish that my birthday party goes well. i wish that me and my high school boyfriend could be friends again. i wish that the next time i go to trader joe's they have green onions and red cabbage and i wish that the next time i take the metro north the conductor doesn't check my ticket. i wish i had a narrow frame. i wish for world peace. POSSIBILITY, PERFORMANCE, AND STAMPED MEANING I have sat down and for hours tried to write to you again. I've read this over so many times its lost all meaning to me. I've written to other places, and thought to myself some fantastical thoughts, but I can't seem to talk to you, you, exactly, here and now. It has intimidated me. My 21st birthday is coming up, today is a leap day, and soon it will be spring. Soon, I'll be done with my junior year of college. Soon, all the leaves outside my window will be back. Today I hear the birds call and I woke up h...
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