oh lovelies

Monday, December 20, 2010

this one it was real
this one it was real
so many others!
a gold scarf around my neck
house I can put my hand in
waiting for a response
for a response
on a side road
you in that pink room but what else was there?



you, me and her
did it slip right by me?
this one's Jasmine
this one is pink
I hold one rose up, then another

something shook me
17 in the bathroom
black tiles surround me
mermaid maiden?
and who wants to be
one day your feet will glow
though they be red

it's one two three fibonnacci
all of you is raw and heavy
that light, that light you follow
bruised and dying though you are
if you lie down here
here you're surrounded by that mother's love fur and purr
though it's cold and cold it is
and I'm sorry
this one it was real
this one it was real
so many others!
a gold scarf around my neck
house I can put my hand in
waiting for a response
for a response
cars somewhere are
speeding on a side road
somewhere Jayne lost her head



you, me and her
did it slip right by me?
this one's Jasmine
this one is pink
I hold one rose up, then another

something shook me
17 in the bathroom
black tiles surround me
mermaid maiden?
and who wants to be
she got what she wished for
but isn't that too boring?
woman was born to suffer
beauty is pain, pain beauty

it's one two three fibonnacci
all of you is raw and heavy

if there's one there are a million of them
face was so tender so was he
it was up to you to protect them


cat scratched me the snow stabbed me
in a tree, the snow piercing the part of your legs that were bare
in a playground covered in snow ice
nothing can live here, yet it does
you are here, you and her
toes not icy move them, they have feeling
you and your step sister her in plaid
we will freeze, but we don't

now you and the one who looks like him
are in some kind of garage
what are you doing?


you're eighteen your hair is red
the night is black
the doors are silent
you were waiting for someone
what are these eyes
what is this face
why are they glowing
yes it was hot hot in there
why are they glowing
let me travel to him him to me
promising safety
please fix the road for me
and it's getting dark
the pills were blue
the snow was white

presents were green
others red
then his text
a light! another then another
it can be so cold
so cold at night

sometime, sometime
legs scraped raw again
somehow I got back
thinking I was free
I was deceived

but for that moment the night was blanketed in white
red, blue and green lights gently hung around the old red brick buildings
so cold, but a sign of warmth
that you're home
no longer in a desert

the day to celebrate Christ
is this coming day, now it's night
and it's very silent only your feet make noise
in the snow marking it
presents sit in the living room
in a church your family stands next to you
lights go out and candle flames move like water
and it's quiet
she calls you a bitch
that morning the tsunami hits
you don't feel it here, or do you?
so thankful for the quiet this night
no one around
my cat comes in from outside
the snow makes a white mountain
this is the god of winter
an ice pick dosed in spearmint
your fingertips are a spark of deadly freeze
where no light comes
as the mercury ball drops

I'm not OK
I'm a grotesque monster of a wreck
I've been that
that thing think it's a piece of cheap pulp
but that thing is real
it's in me?

your emails have been read
somewhere someone is dancing
somewhere, the FARCs are getting rich
somewhere there's a white paste is stirred in a barrel
but here you're in a makeshift mall
step into a bathroom
white and holy r
the bag is pink
the white is snow
it has a peachy smell
it's a pink band aid
there's a devil doll outside
in a Santaria shop
he bobs gently and grins
you were warned
you were curious you know
somewhere people are marching in green, green leaves so sharp they cut
insects big as your hand
which one was stolen
three syllables
three bells
this one, the blue forms clouds, blueberries?
a blue boy on the wall

my nose hurts
aching, aching my body
and one came in from the cold
the air sucked out of the room
like in the barrel of a shotgun
or a piercing
a ring, one for every kind of day


8 am, 7 am which hour was it
plastic is cheap barely containing
somewhere in your bag it spilled
overspilled
you saw it, it was a skull, one too many
what was the meaning?
a car, too many
crossing the street
there were too many, too few to understand

it was winter this time
a white beard,
other earrings, those ones gold
the others diamond
the street is cold so cold
that has no mercy it scrapes your face
you light a fire
cold the streets are
yellow and bright the gold is
the sun! oh the sun!
how love passion lust power oh that!
do you know do you really know
you
think you do
I don't think you do
you didn't see them like I saw them
you didnt live them as I lived them


if there's one there are a million of them
face was so tender so was he
it was up to you to protect them


cat scratched me the snow stabbed me
in a tree, the snow piercing the part of your legs that were bare
in a playground covered in snow ice
nothing can live here, yet it does
you are here, you and her
toes not icy move them, they have feeling
you and your step sister her in plaid
we will freeze, but we don't

now you and the one who looks like him
are in some kind of garage
what are you doing?


you're eighteen your hair is red
the night is black
the doors are silent
you were waiting for someone
what are these eyes
what is this face
why are they glowing
yes it was hot hot in there
why are they glowing
let me travel to him him to me
promising safety
please fix the road for me
and it's getting dark
the pills were blue
the snow was white

presents were green
others red
then his text
a light! another then another
it can be so cold
so cold at night

sometime, sometime
legs scraped raw again
somehow I got back
thinking I was free
I was deceived

but for that moment the night was blanketed in white
red, blue and green lights gently hung around the old red brick buildings
so cold, but a sign of warmth
that you're home
no longer in a desert

the day to celebrate Christ
is this coming day, now it's night
and it's very silent only your feet make noise
in the snow marking it
presents sit in the living room
in a church your family stands next to you
lights go out and candle flames move like water
and it's quiet
she calls you a bitch
that morning the tsunami hits
you don't feel it here, or do you?
so thankful for the quiet this night
no one around
my cat comes in from outside
the snow makes a white mountain
this is the god of winter
an ice pick dosed in spearmint
your fingertips are a spark of deadly freeze
where no light comes
as the mercury ball drops

I'm not OK
I'm a grotesque monster of a wreck
I've been that
that thing think it's a piece of cheap pulp
but that thing is real
it's in me?

your emails have been read
somewhere someone is dancing
somewhere, the FARCs are getting rich
somewhere there's a white paste is stirred in a barrel
but here you're in a makeshift mall
step into a bathroom
white and holy r
the bag is pink
the white is snow
it has a peachy smell
it's a pink band aid
there's a devil doll outside
in a Santaria shop
he bobs gently and grins
you were warned
you were curious you know
somewhere people are marching in green, green leaves so sharp they cut
insects big as your hand
which one was stolen
three syllables
three bells
this one, the blue forms clouds, blueberries?
a blue boy on the wall

my nose hurts
aching, aching my body
and one came in from the cold
the air sucked out of the room
like in the barrel of a shotgun
or a piercing
a ring, one for every kind of day


8 am, 7 am which hour was it
plastic is cheap barely containing
somewhere in your bag it spilled
overspilled
you saw it, it was a skull, one too many
what was the meaning?
a car, too many
crossing the street
there were too many, too few to understand

it was winter this time
a white beard, should have worn the others
other earrings, those ones gold
the others diamond
love and hate adrenaline when it wants
always unannounced


Thursday, December 16, 2010

Sky dancer revised

this one it was real
this one it was real
so many others!
a gold scarf around my neck
house I can put my hand in
waiting for a response
for a response
cars somewhere are
speeding on a side road
you're in this pink room and
something went wrong



you, me and her
did it slip right by me?
this one's Jasmine
this one is pink
I hold one rose up, then another

something shook me
17 in the bathroom
black tiles surround me
mermaid maiden?
and who wants to be
she got what she wished for
but isn't that too boring?
woman was born to suffer
beauty is pain, pain beauty

it's one two three fibonnacci
all of you is raw and heavy

if there's one there are a million of them
face was so tender so was he
it was up to you to protect them


cat scratched me the snow stabbed me
in a tree, the snow piercing the part of your legs that were bare
in a playground covered in snow ice
nothing can live here, yet it does
you are here, you and her
toes not icy move them, they have feeling
you and your step sister her in plaid
we will freeze, but we don't

now you and the one who looks like him
are in some kind of garage
what are you doing?


you're eighteen your hair is red
the night is black
the doors are silent
you were waiting for someone
what are these eyes
what is this face
why are they glowing
yes it was hot hot in there
why are they glowing
let me travel to him him to me
promising safety
please fix the road for me
and it's getting dark
the pills were blue
the snow was white

presents were green
others red
then his text
a light! another then another
it can be so cold
so cold at night

sometime, sometime
legs scraped raw again
somehow I got back
thinking I was free
I was deceived

but for that moment the night was blanketed in white
red, blue and green lights gently hung around the old red brick buildings
so cold, but a sign of warmth
that you're home
no longer in a desert

the day to celebrate Christ
is this coming day, now it's night
and it's very silent only your feet make noise
in the snow marking it
presents sit in the living room
in a church your family stands next to you
lights go out and candle flames move like water
and it's quiet
she calls you a bitch
that morning the tsunami hits
you don't feel it here, or do you?
so thankful for the quiet this night
no one around
my cat comes in from outside
the snow makes a white mountain
this is the god of winter
an ice pick dosed in spearmint
your fingertips are a spark of deadly freeze
where no light comes
as the mercury ball drops

I'm not OK
I'm a grotesque monster of a wreck
I've been that
that thing think it's a piece of cheap pulp
but that thing is real
it's in me?

your emails have been read
somewhere someone is dancing
somewhere, the FARCs are getting rich
somewhere there's a white paste is stirred in a barrel
but here you're in a makeshift mall
step into a bathroom
white and holy r
the bag is pink
the white is snow
it has a peachy smell
it's a pink band aid
there's a devil doll outside
in a Santaria shop
he bobs gently and grins
you were warned
you were curious you know
somewhere people are marching in green, green leaves so sharp they cut
insects big as your hand
which one was stolen
three syllables
three bells
this one, the blue forms clouds, blueberries?
a blue boy on the wall

my nose hurts
aching, aching my body
and one came in from the cold
the air sucked out of the room
like in the barrel of a shotgun
or a piercing
a ring, one for every kind of day


8 am, 7 am which hour was it
plastic is cheap barely containing
somewhere in your bag it spilled
overspilled
you saw it, it was a skull, one too many
what was the meaning?
a car, too many
crossing the street
there were too many, too few to understand

it was winter this time
a white beard, should have worn the others
other earrings, those ones gold
the others diamond
love and hate adrenaline when it wants
always unannounced


Friday, December 03, 2010

barking dog

Tundra was out of control for the past 24 hours causing a great deal of strife, finger pointing, I admit hate and bringing the worst out of everyone. On the up side, this was only at the beginning of the day. I am obsessed with omens some are bullshit some have some merit. I'm reading that a dog's behavior is foreshadowing. I dropped a spoon....a child will visit, or else I'm fertile now. Lights camera and no daddy! Or Eros is here.

I went into Sephora as a treat to myself today after a doctor's appointment.....spent hours putting on eyeshadow. I looked great, finally. Beauty is pain and labor. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Thursday, December 02, 2010

Today

was a combination of horrific and helpful. On the up side, some problems were worked out. The down, things were terribly chaotic and just fucked up in general to start. I survived, thanks to the grace of the air. Barely.

Thanks to the good doctors, the deli man on Myrtle, Virgin Mobile for restoring my service. To sanity.

Also Aphrodite, St. Alex, Dad, Grandma....those who are gone but not forgotten. Private thing but the kudos is there.

Wednesday, December 01, 2010

fog and weird rain

but very pretty. Like the film sleepy hollow. I went to Pennie's Open Mic got interviewed kewl and then did a "story" for the first time. I have been training more for dance.

Since poetry is a stick I'll try to make this a poem, what I stated

it's the early dawn
tree branch surrounded by fog
I'm pretty and today was wretched
haven't forgotten
heavy woman on her knees in a blizzard
more mountains of dirty white under train tracks
standing, sitting, avoiding stares it's the subway at 3am
they sang "G Train Blues"
more like "The G train will make a wreck of me and my life"
quiet but for that howling wind
I whisper
it's quiet
that's the only thing that matters

Monday, November 29, 2010

OK feeling better

I went on my rant well you know it needed to be said. Seeing letters K, A....know what that means. Been running, leg exercises, calisthenics stretch stretch tedious as fuck all. I see the tension in me. The "bad." Comes from different places. Blocked areas. Many. Heavy breathing. Jolts. Eating cold sesame noodles and vegetable egg rolls from the local Chinese food place, Chung Chens or something I believe it's called, on Myrtle. It's where the project kids all go. I am right next to Fort Greene park. I spent hours yesterday washing the fucking floor cleaning after the dog. Endless and today still more. Got rid of "most" bad smells then it smelled good for a while, now it's bad. Think the happiest thoughts. Cheesy but true. Yellow is the color I'm meditating on. Show is tomorrow. I contrast the yellow with the dirty dishwater I see in parts of me. Turn the dirty dishwater into bright yellow.

Jophiel. Intelligence Jupiter. Yellow. Solar plexus. Cleansing. It's the waning moon time for cleansing. Washing the floor. Washing the floor. Endless. Arrrrrrrggggggghhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!


Feel there's no end. Jerk head. No end. Jerk head. No end. Because I read something .....

I omitted the rest. I abbreviated it because it's private, but realize it doesn't make sense to people.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Bitter Sweet Coffee Bitter Goodbye

Tundra always begs me to take her there. I took her out of kindness even though so many times I have gone to that place only to be talked down to and reprimanded by either the owner or some customer about....I mean, why do they sell biscuits if they don't want their sacred space dirtied by dogs? The owners, this " barista" bitch with red hair and glasses giving me and Tundra a look for their information I spent a good portion of this week cleaning up a space where a woman was keeping seven cats and three dogs ONLY out of love for animals and desire to make their living space habitable because quite frankly their owner was not responsible enough to hire the proper workers to walk her dogs and clean her space. I bought Tundra medicine, supplements and plenty of biscuits cleaned up after her rubbed her legs with warm water and lavendar and patchouli oil. I feed feral cats. I saved a kitten from being put in a mailbox by a crazy derelict. So anyone who wants to accuse me at this place.....what is it? This prick comes into Bittersweet (Retch) coffee shop on dekalb ave and yells at me in front of everyone there that Tundra looked, what was it? forlorn or something. It was very humiliating and really unfair. Another time, the owner yelled at me because I was grooming her and I was getting the place dirty. This is the final time. This bitch at the counter said something like "You're blocking the door and please make sure the dog doesn't...." because I was finishing a cup of coffee by the door and getting ready to leave with Tundra who was looking in the door. Look, if anyone wants to lecture me I have this to say because I am damned mad now: I groomed her because no one else does. I walk her because no one else does. I feed her the biscuits because I feel for her and want to give her some enjoyment in life. So what can I say other than, what? Go to hell maybe? Who the hell does that bitch think she is? And the looks she was giving me and the dog? What is her fucking problem? And the jerkoff, pretentious crowd there..... ugh good breeding prevents me from expressing my true feelings for these people. But you know some people have their "due" coming. Question is, when will it be?
There is something unforgivable in a person getting a sense of entitlement and hostility toward a person who is doing them a favor, such as giving them money. This isn't the first time this has happened to me. I am simply done with a) that place I am NEVER going back and b) the wrongful elements in my life enough, done! Completely done.

More on Yoga blog

Which I will be starting soon. Or I could generally call it a dance blog. Lordie there's so much written about yoga that is absurd and the wrong teachings I admit fucked me up for a long time. Which is why I feel the burden to set the record straight. Yoga is not related to any religion it is not Buddhist or Hindu or Satanic or anything except a physical exercise to reduce suffering. The origins are debatable. I will go into that elsewhere. Ideally I want to express many different styles which I will divorce from the pseudo-Eastern schtick (nothing against Eastern teachings, it's just my opinion and personal style) surrounding these "New Age" schools. You know. I am still beginning to understand readings concerning chakras which again I will work with sans religion or any spiritual philosophy. It's up to each person what works for them. But I will work on different styles. And I will add I have read some, I won't mince words, REALLY stupid, crazy and ignorant stuff concerning this. People asking if they're going to go to hell for doing yoga which is "non-Christian." Stuff like that. People really spend their time wondering about this. Yes, spirituality can spell disaster for someone mentally unbalanced or who has too many crossed conditions that will confuse the hell out of them until they spiral down into the deep end, irretrievably. That happens too.

Maybe "celestial" and "cthonic" yoga both. OK. This IS a rough draft. But it's also my blog, so I'll do it how I want. "Tantric" I just don't know enough about. But say the chakras and the seven planets, seven Olympic spirits I read about......

George Bernard Shaw, on Socrates, quote



"Now it is always hard for superior wits to understand the fury roused by their exposures of the stupidities of comparative dullards. Even Socrates, for all his age and experience, did not defend himself at his trial like a man who understood the long accumulated fury that had burst on him, and was clamoring for his death. His accuser, if born 2300 years later, might have been picked out of any first class carriage on a suburban railway during the evening or morning rush from or to the City; for he had really nothing to say except that he and his like could not endure being shewn up as idiots every time Socrates opened his mouth. Socrates, unconscious of this, was paralyzed by his sense that somehow he was missing the point of the attack. He petered out after he had established the fact that he was an old soldier and a man of honorable life, and that his accuser was a silly snob. He had no suspicion of the extent to which his mental superiority had roused fear and hatred against him in the hearts of men towards whom he was conscious of nothing but good will and good service."





Saturday, November 27, 2010

things going on

had limited internet access and my phone was out. but I am back. Working on dance as well as writing and thankfully getting back into things. Right now I'm a sweaty ragged mess as I am running and training heavily....but feel better, am better. Also more writing. Back into life and the world....looking forward to it. And starting a yoga blog.....

ha satan?

not having been raised speaking Hebrew or Aramaic....my view of "Satan"? now that.....hm.....is "he" an actual diety? As a kid I was terrified that Satan would come out of my closet and "get" me or at least appear.....or some other ghost or the like. I ....it's so hard to write this......thought I had to arrange my bible and this "Stories of Jesus" book my grandmother gave me as a kid exactly right or else I would be haunted in the night. Freudian? Most probably. I don't identify much with "him" or do I? "Sell your soul" for fame and fortune? Ha! Small price to pay.....all bs. There is a reason to question what you are taught and think about it and research, research research. It was not automatically I was able to get right and have the record straightened. Seriously. There is A LOT of noise and falsity out there you must always dig deeper. These are the discussions I used to have with my shrink.....

I watched, with my family at Thanksgiving, a documentary on the French Revolution. It was amazing! Very vampire-like. Guillotine and severed heads.....humans are creative!

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Starting a yoga blog? at 3am

320 am to be exact. should have been asleep long ago. today was trying in every sense of the word.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

these are small and pure wax
pure and hard to find
Donna, grandma do you remember?
the Cinderella stories you gave to me?
these made pink and blue, a flower like on a
cake
a bush, red berries


the dirt was cold
I open a bottle of whiskey
sweet vapor stings my nose




when will it be
will it be?
my heart is twisted
twisted without mercy
and I've been bleeding bleeding bleeding

she admires the one who tortures me
she worships these people
oh so pink and oh so pretty
holy holy she fakes it well

the near death
she tortured me for hours with pins
knives needles
and lied, she's good at lying


the dirt was cold
I open a bottle of whiskey
fumes vaporize into steam
sweet and stinging



the night is calm and beautiful
is there no way out of this hell?
will she get it will she get it
you always abandoned me in my darkest hour
forgive?
somewhere, somewhere there's a rainbow and angel wings
somewhere else there are bats

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Imette, Jennifer

Jennifer Moore.


Sigh. what can I say? This computer is a POS and the space bar isn't working well. ANyway, when I was eighteen I went out to clubs with girlfriends.....we all did. In fact, we went out younger than that. We all had fake IDs which you can get at 42nd St. In fact, most of the time we didn't need them....because the clubs all wanted pretty girls in there. I did really crazy and dumb things I like to think not as dumb I hate to say it as walking around an abandoned lot next to the Hudson River at 4:30 AM. And Draymond Coleman my real rage is with people like him who would take advantage of someone's helplessness and naiveté which he did. I knew people like him growing up. I won't get into the fantasies I've had of what I'd do to guys like him. But the blame is as much with a society which doesn't teach someone like her basic street smarts and shelters her from the real world, also the ambulance that took her friend....what on earth were they thinking leaving a young girl alone while they took away one girl? Especially someone who is five ft two and not thinking clearly and then with these two girls passing out in a car lot on 12th Ave to begin with.....what kind of people are working in THIS place? There are a lot of factors to blame here. I thought watching this....this could have been me or my friends this was such a random and unlucky thing. You just can't count on luck, you know? Or on circumstances being in your favor? Someone said these clubs are next to a highway and abandoned warehouses for a reason.....? Who knows? my girlfriends and I went to a place that was on West 14th st which was not the pretty, tame place it is now....but it was more or less safe to walk around.....as there were tons of people out partying. Yes, we drank. We took the subway home.....it helped that we lived in safe neighborhoods. I would go out alone at super crazy ridiculous hours. why.....who knows? why anything..... also with Imette.....her female companion left her to wander the streets alone drunk. Especially on a (in Imette's case) cold deserted night when they're obviously not thinking clearly. Nice friends, huh? Now they have it on their consciences that maybe if they hadn't abandoned them they'd still be alive. I mean, did anyone ever ask them, wtf were you thinking, leaving your friend alone like that in the middle of the night defenseless.....when they could have split a cab.....Jennifer Moore.....Port Authority was not far from where she was, one of those "if only" things I know, but maybe if she'd gone that direction, stumbled...and gotten a bus to her place well so many things. Did she not see the No Parking sign where she put her car? I admit they're confusing. It was really mean of the city to take her car, too. Knowing she'd be stranded at that hour. Anyway. Also, this all happened I mean with Jennifer Moore right near my birthday. Ugh. I wouldn't leave a man alone, passed out drunk at 4AM either. Would most people? To her credit, her friend said she tried to take her back. For whatever reason, beats me, Imette decided to wander by herself in one of the coldest nights of the year into Chinatown, a very remote part, and drink some more. Being already drunk. Something is off, is all I can say.

Tuesday, November 09, 2010

women cling to backward senseless beliefs. women keep their own oppressed. they stick to the past and long for the past de-evolution you could call it. sad. sad world. i've been let down by too many. I wish it were otherwise. Wonder if it'll ever change? Women aren't trained to fight, that's why. Just sit back and nobly die alone like the character in The House of Mirth. If you choose life instead, you're a villain. Where's the logic? There isn't any.

Saturday, November 06, 2010

last night

didn't realize ended.....dark moon in scorpio. that's pretty dark. I went to a tango party.....one of those things I was kind of tired/it was late but my mother had heard about this from the Alliance Francaise. It was a great night.....this party was in Herald Square, or near 8th ave. Not exactly Herald Square. THis part of town is hideously ugly and inconvenient--I've been here at 3AM other times in my life for other reasons. Anyway. It's close enough to where that girl fell of a building. The party was great as was last night. I went with my mother and sister--this red dress I wore and black patent leather heels--They lent me a trench coat which I thought looked ridiculous--I told myself I looked like Faye Dunaway in The Eyes of Laura Mars. Yes I looked good. And no date. Embarassing to say but my "date" for the night, a couple of them, somehow fell through. But whatever. This older man was teaching me to tango. It is a beautiful dance, and the dancers were beautiful. It doesn't look like work but it is. Back in the old days this is how people partied like the Edith Wharton novels and my legs were really feeling it. So at 2 am; my mother and sister had left; I took the train back walking around this dirty industrial part of town, near the Department of Motor Vehicles. I got on the A train after getting coffee, thank Heaven for that, from this seedy diner. Train ....it was the E and I had thought it was the C, left me at the World Trade Center. HOrrors for real. Switched to the C. From that station, around 2:30 am or so, I made a very agonizing and harrowing walk home in those heels and a thin trench coat. Oh I am NOT looking forward to winter! I had read about women in Russia wearing stiletto heels in blizzards and I wished I had my Uggs....try though I may I could not forget the burning sensation in my feet the cold and how all I wished for was warmth and to take these instruments of torture off. Plus, the only people out were killers, really. And this neighborhood is full of hills and cracks in the sidewalk several times I snagged a heel or my shoe came off. After getting in.....there was kind of a smell in my room and the dog; so I had to clean that up it was unbearable. THis morning, I took the dog out which went relatively painlessly. I was decked out to the nines in sweat pants, sweat shirt, my hanging nightgown, and--I had left my Uggs at my mothers and had only high heels and sneakers, so I wore those; a hideous white. I was fashionably unfashionable. Tundra the dog always wants to go to this place on DeKalb which is obnoxiously pretentious and the customers very snotty and annoying; and I'm showing up in my unsophisticated white sneakers and red sweat shirt--my hair hanging every which way. This one couple was there--the guy with kind of black hair and like a grunge, like Soundgarden, look, and his girlfriend; a tall red head wearing an army coat I think, and boots. Most of my boots have been stolen from the locker room. WHat can I do? Tundra likes this place for the biscuits. I got rugulah, a brownie, a light cafe au lait (they do make these right at this place. most of these coffee shops make the coffee so dark it's like mud and makes me sick and light headed.) fed her the biscuits.....the song "Satisfaction" was on the radio.

The night before my mother and I watched "Spring SUmmer Fall" something like that, a Korean film. It was pretty good; all these messed up people in a so called spiritual retreat. Again more later?

Friday, November 05, 2010

dream nearly forgot

it's late early and i need a full night's sleep but this is the dream I had.....

a woman, name starts with a k, came into my room. she was wearing a leopard coat. hair dyed red but roots showing. her voice was high. her hair curly. she was talking to me about someone....we were in a room in a motel. I guess a city one.

then I was in Queens walking with this comedian I met, a suburban part. Then we were lying together naked. then we walked out into this suburb, it was night time. Shrubs around us. maybe it looked like parts of Evanston where my mother studied ballet?

Thursday, November 04, 2010





he was wearing white
the lights were white
inside, brighter than ever
tungsten white not a speck of blue


a floor was washed
the suds, the smell hangs in the doorway
everything in me is raw scraped away
pieces of skin what's left of me
my hands, feet, arms heavy hanging rocks
I am one of her stupid bitch slaves
that she cuts for her pleasure
miss sacharine sweetness tells you
don't be bitter, don't hate the hateful
don't believe her
she is a sick one, a sick human
is there no way out of her?
there is a broom and it's making this way and that
which way is it?
did I confuse you?
and who is to blame
for this sickness

and still walking through here
feel this dust this parcel of air
that could be you
walking by me
the trees are saying
somebody must pay
somebody must pay big time


dry and scaly
cracking like paper
dead listless eyes staring at you
not staring
there beyond and at nothing
it's the worst thing
really the worst
the walls are smeared with red
looks like it could be but it isn't
a hand, a claw, shaped round
grasping at something that isn't there
there was a doll in the crib
eyes staring out blue eyes, same blue same way
you spun around seeming endless
in the basement and on the driveway
someone should have told you something
is there no way out?
you're oh-so-good, aren't you?
it's a deception
no one believes you

what did I ask for?
you're spent, so is your heart

once they were there
a face, face becomes a mask
they walked this place a million others did there

before them
a bag of white
a salty ride
the leaves are green they're growing somewhere
somewhere they're making pasty liquid
somewhere they're singing and dancing



in your dreams, you're naked with him
she appears in a leopard coat
is he saying something?

the sky is an eggshell blue
a midwestern winter
the whiskey was part of it
sweet fumes fill your nose
sweet carbon, then not so sweet
the branches hanging grabbing, grabbing onto you
your right hand behind you
head twisted to the left
is there no way out of this?


a rush of red
there will never be an end


Monday, November 01, 2010

Not to get started on a downer, but today a 13 year old girl was tragically killed by a car. Enraging really.....how the hell could this be allowed to happen? I had a bad feeling.....in Fort Greene Park it was empty at the dog run....just a huge sand circle it looked like a science fiction film. Pigeons just sitting around it. Then flying the way they do in circles. The black cat in the deli on DeKalb was just sitting in the middle of the floor, staring ahead. It's All Saints Day....of course lifted from the pagan holidays. NYC also was strangely cold, frigid and silent, even in the East Village, on what was supposed to by the biggest party night of the year. This woman, she was a pretty young blonde, was pushing a kid back and forth on the swings in the playground. It was making this creaking sound....reeeehhhh reeehhh .....and the kid was alone it just reminded me of the Omen. The kid was also staring ahead and not making any noises. I almost think that's a kind of child abuse; to take your kid to a park to hang out alone, with only her the mother or nanny I'm not sure which for company. It's just weird....why isn't he/she (I think it was a girl) in school with other kids her age?

There is a big kind of baseball circle of sand in the middle of the park. That's where people take their dogs.....but when I took Tundra there no one was around. It reminded me of Gorlitzer Park in Berlin. Part of it.....the size of a baseball field at least.....is a huge crater where a bomb was dropped. I mean, the Nazis were who they were but the other side wasn't exactly angelic; our side. It looks like those pictures of Mars or the Moon where asteroids or comets hit; it's pretty much the same thing. I used to run in that park every day when I was there. I think it was turned into an ampitheater or something. That's what it looks like. In Berlin and most of Europe I have to say the weather would make me crazy. At least here in NYC it gets sunny and hot but there it pretty much never does. It's always frigid chilly during the summer it's at most in the 70s. Berlin was cloudy and gloomy even in the summer. Like the sun is shining but it's cold out....deceptive?

It feels very silent around here.

So I went to a crazy party on Saturday night then last night.....I went to the East Village to pick up something at the store but everything was closed. Took a cab for nothing. Argh! Then I stopped at my mother's where we watched this RETARDED film, made back in the 50s or 60s, about a haunted house. The house looked like the Jefferson Market Library on the outside, and like the places in this neighborhood, a lot like Garrett's, on the inside. Clair Bloom and Julie Harris were in it. The Julie Harris character was really annoying........I don't know why she spent the whole film with caked mascara on her eyelashes and no other make up, and like a permanent pinched expression on her face. She just sat there whimpering in this allegedly haunted bedroom, with all the classic cliche haunted house noises.....banging on the pipes, laughing and so on. You know, ha! ha! ha! The same sounds those dolls sold in Wallgreens make. She would cry and scream, "Go away!" The thing is, the guy whose house it was, can't remember the actor's name but he looked like Oliver Stone, had warned them the house was haunted in the beginning. How do they know it wasn't him making all those noises from behind the walls? And if the place was so terrifying, why didn't they just leave? It was atmospheric, though. It was a beautiful place; hey I'd take it, ghosts or not. Burn bay leaves if there's a nasty ghost in the house. There are so many things you can do.....and it's hard to sympathize with these characters I mean if you're that stupid and ignorant you deserve whatever you get. I'm sorry. There's a ton of information out there on hauntings or I suppose if you take out a Bible or salt .....I was reading the lucky mojo site last night and there was a listing of American folk remedies, used back in Illinois, where my great grandparents lived... German-, Irish- and African-American somehow these traditions merged; not sure how. Really this was amazing; because no one in my family told me about these things; ironically I found them on the Internet. I was reading these articles, downing a few too many glasses of this Chilean Red Wine I'd bought in the East Village. I found these YouTube videos of Memphis Minnie songs--atmospheric yes! This music is amazing for a quiet night; sexy and cool, background stuff. The kind of stuff you listen to, or "people" I guess listened to driving on lonely country roads back in the days. Lit a white Meyers Clean Day candle after washing the floor turned out all the lights. Had time alone with precious peace and quiet thank you very much. Chatted a little online.


There was a picture of a woman I know who has rather a treacherous history with a friend of mine....he is not fond of her from what he's told me. Naturally I can't name names. She has ghoul make up on and is staring into the camera....like a blank dead ahead stare. It is really terrifying, this picture. She had written on her page about what a wonderful life she has.....well whatever. My heart jumped a little when I saw that.

There must be many disturbed souls walking around. Troublemakers. Bah! Garrett's place....this room in the back is always cold and was artic temperature last night. I sometimes think I see faces or something standing next to me. This one time I was on the stairs and it....I thought I felt someone pass me, like a light coming down the stairs. Not a surprise; this is an old building and a lot of stuff happened in this very area. A lot of it was very bad. Call it what you will. The real horrors are in the human living world; THAT'S what scares me really.


The other day, the night I went to the crazy party (big O! ) I had an attack of the crazies.I was on the way when the fucking thing came off in the middle of DeKalb Ave. Right next to Applebees, well why is that surprising? The site where a girl name Chanel was mysteriously murdered....anyway. The "ees" in the sign in front of the restaurant look like glowing evil doll eyes.....that sick glowing laughing look. Like the clown doll in "Poltergeist." Go check it out someday; you'll see what I mean My shoe heel broke. I screamed. I lost it. Adrenaline very high partly as I'm getting back in shape as a dancer must have released (back to my Method Acting training) lots of emotional blockages. I read some very upsetting stuff by a woman online whom I had thought was on the same page as me, and I suppose that contributed to it. I wrote in my spiral notebook or rather chicken scratched the hell out of it whiny stuff but hey I will spill and rage it's my notebook. Still, the person who recommended writing in one is the same one who said disturbing stuff online so I'm thinking am I free? As I'm following her advice but then she said all this stuff that really twisted me up emotionally and is saying I'm not really free a slave when she'd said the opposite before.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

he was wearing white
his shirt was that color
so it stood out
on the night time street
still busy glowing tungsten
tacky store fronts
endless red car lights
all a blur
all too many of them
will there ever be an end?


one day you slipped
the strap broke
they thought you were playing a trick
if only you could lie to them
you could if you acted enough
the gashes are red
when will they be theirs
think I'm joking


dry and scaly
cracking like paper
dead listless eyes staring at you
not staring
there beyond and at nothing
it's the worst thing
really the worst
the walls are smeared with red
looks like it could be but it isn't
isn't real isn't something real it's based on
there was a doll in the crib
eyes staring out blue eyes, same blue same way
you spun around seeming endless
in the basement and on the driveway
someone should have told you something

you don't have energy to hate
what good would it do?
or to become enemies
all a rock that fell
you really are scraped
this way and that way

I'm dry, dried out and spent
once I had it
once the waves lifted me up
dropped me down
and it's sad
the red ants and worms eat you alive
and you become a nasty cliche


is it too much energy to hate? what is hate?
you are dried out like a rag
you are scraped raw
once they were there
a face, face becomes a mask
they walked this place a million others did there
before them
a bag of white
a salty ride
there were one too many

days

Ah why. Meant to say whiny whiny. I suppose it could have been much worse. all the insanity, people's egos and anger. I reall need to just be a hermit. I am grateful now for the dark and to be alone and the quiet, although it doesn't feel like I'm alone. I feel like there are people all around me. I just feel like I'm not alone. How do I know I'm not being watched? Because I AM being watched. I have almost no privacy and I am a very private person and not having that is going to make a wreck of me. If the theme is endings then yes certain things must end. I was earlier very angry. It was a last attempt maybe at having any control over my own life and not be someone else's marionette.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

ok

I took one post down just because well yes it was somewhat whiny and negative. I'll leave the obvious unsaid is all.

On the up side, the view from my window is beautiful.....big polar bear green trees!

A tarot card fell on the floor the Nine of Cups it turned out to be. Pretty pretty cool.

more KLF

KLF AMERICA WHAT TIME IS LOVE


Yes I am obsessed with them. Just my opinion of course: but they were so much more creative original and brilliant then so many of those whiny 90s "Grunge" (he hm whisper Pearl Jam) who came up when I did a youtube "Jams" search......

वास

fluid

that is what it feels like. maybe it's beeswax candles. I feel like I'm in some kind of weird sticky sweet something. this fucking computer keeps crashing. My "c" key is screwed up so I have to pound it to get it on the screen. Better now. Had a rough weekend. Don't get me started on the dog. I love her I love animals but it's very exhausting caring for her. I took her to the park at horrendous hour of 7:30 AM and bumped chests with all the other locals some of whom gave me advice ect. Got her earlier some gluco something biscuits from the healthy pet place. Ironic that as rents go up so does the availability of all this eco-correct stuff. I really need a regular sleep and not having to endlessly trek up and down stairs. Exercise yes but I'm very weary of it.

Friday, October 15, 2010

Birthday Poem Revised


so next version: of the dad one


there and there
he laughed
he smiled
did I confuse you? he said
any way is right
if you don't know which way


burn low burn high
3am can't sleep
I should have more money
I shouldn't have asked
there's a broom and it's waiting for him
things were blurry
and you should have waited for him

I'm on a horse and it's white
there's a flame burning, burning high


she's wearing black and
dust forms around her

the snow is white
the silver is bright
the snow is white
silver is bright
black is dark and white is light

I'm an elf and I've fallen from a star
he said, she said
does it really matter?



I'm on a horse and it's white
there's a flame burning burning high

my dress is ruined
and it was nearly perfect
a near perfect blue
me and you


the shoes are red
and I saw a face
a hideous face
I dreamt of a church but it was evil
and I couldn't get out
the grey was the color of tombs
outside the windows
there was so much green
so much and everything

how far, how far do we go?
before we're back to where we started
there's yellow and it's a fierce yellow
my shoes are red
so bright I have to shut my eyes
all the reflections, a pin piercing
dazzling light
shoes are red
there was another, another formed again

did some one commit

there was grey
too much of it
a skull and cross bones
dust of a tombstone
dirt from a killer's grave
head of snake
head of an ant
teeth of a rat
too much of that
too much of it

there was blood on the walls
too much of it
doubles here and everywhere
everyone has a shadow side
house in Michigan
the worst, the boonies and hicks
the despised people
walking like zombies

maybe there

Thursday, October 14, 2010

speaking of

"Economics 202" I know that I've fucked up with money issues not for lack of trying to work them out....but it happened. I would like to know the reason but I attribute it to.....mass confusion. So I'm working on wiping the window clean.

things

intense conversation with someone last night. I suppose I do feel a guilt or sensitivity over some things. Other things when writing I don't want to face. with great love great things come great responsibility.

on a lighter note, since I'm in a creative mode, I'll put down some of my other favorite writers. I actually, randomly.....cause in my neighborhood people leave clothes, books and shoes out on stoops if they dont want them, so if someone else does they just pick them up. Or they have stoop sales. People leave books out, and about 85 percent of them are things that "most" people wouldn't be dying to read, like "Economics 202" 4th Edition from 1978. But sometimes.....well after seeing a few of those types of books, I found Jack Kerouac's "On the Road." That's the Beat Generation classic, the 1950s version of punk, or Williamsburg....and not the kind of thing I'd first want. But I decided to take it and I'm reading it now. I'm only at the beginning. It's similar to Henry Miller but a couple generations later. I must be in a 50s mode...for such a crazily repressed time there was some amazing art, literature and music. I was reading "In Cold Blood" til I left the stupid thing at a friend's place. Yes, I need to buy another copy.

faces faces are staring at me

so many yellows
oh the love and it's real
love and it's real
the yellows are bright
so is all this light
all this light so much of it
this light this one oh only this one \\


it was om om and ominy
all this and she is teirs
thiers and not his
theirs and never his
all of theirs and never his

Monday, October 11, 2010

Happy Birthday Dad!

there and there
he laughed
smiling smiles again
did I confuse you? he said

burn low burn high
3am can't sleep
I should have more money
I shouldn't have asked
there's a broom and it's waiting for him
things were blurry
and you should have waited for him
I'm on a horse and it's white
there's a flame burning, burning high


she's wearing black and
dust forms around her

the snow is white
the silver is bright
the snow is white
silver is bright
black is dark and white is light

I'm an elf and I've fallen from a star
he said, she said
does it really matter?


I'm on a horse and it's white
there's a flame burning burning high

my dress is ruined
and it was nearly perfect
a near perfect blue
me and you

bubbles will soothe
me and you
point the way
any way is right
heaven or hell
any way
if you have the means
the shoes are red
the plate is silver
in winter it's all hidden
how far can you climb?

Friday, October 01, 2010

it is

absolutely beautiful. cool wet splashes, pink sky, gentle wind......unreal. kid stuff. but it is real. it is real. the trees are huge and magestic, outside my window. yes blessed indeed! jewels of pink, gorgeous. there was a reason I stayed here and up....if only to see this!

now

it's 5 am raining in spades and very beautiful. small beeluminiation candles almost spent. gorgeous. if only you could see it. rainforest rain. all sweaty and drunk. i miss my dear absent friends distance does not mean I love you any less or that you mean any less to me. less often is more precious. sadly, that makes necessity for other things. all that, wet love. wet love. wet love. lots. lots

rain wind

don't know who it is
don't know who it is
rain on my forehead
it's 5 am
too late and too early
am I spoiled?
it's late and raining
late and raining
my windows blurry
for hours I've been watching
tree branches moving this way that way
like underwater
what is it no one knows
what is it who will know
it is beautiful
they didn't say how much it would be
why am I the only one to see it?
someone else is there
someone else is there
but they're not here in this room
someone is there
but not here
only my cat his quiet breathing
chest rises and falls
i feel it the wind through my heart too

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Hail to Thee Mighty Aphrodite!






























Hail to Thee Mighty Aphrodite! Ancient Goddess of love, marriage, sex, prostitution, pornography, beauty, femininity.......
The most popular, most (probably) beloved diety ever. I've been meditating on her and writing about her in more private diaries quite extensively as of late.



















Saturday, September 11, 2010

Ancestral searches

Found this memoir, really an interview that was subsequently transcribed, of a woman named Jesse Gilbert Saiter who is not related to me, but was married to a man who was probably a distant cousin of my grandparents, something like that. It's an amazing story I haven't read it all but I plan to. That and collect information of early European-American history out in the plains; in my family there's quite a lot of that, on both sides.

This interview was done almost 30 years ago.....it could have been completely lost and thanks to Illinois Digital Archives and the libraries there it was all preserved. Kudos to these!

This all came about pretty much out of the blue and randomly as for the hell of it I did a google search on Saiter, Illinois, after reading this on Harry Middleton Hyatt anyway like I said there is SO much out there and so much history in any place crazy huh?

Tuesday, September 07, 2010

Brooklyn Life

I'm not the first person to write about this and won't be the last. But life here in the early 0s, in Brooklyn. Coffee shops and bike/dog culture. And black. Ha. I'm sitting in the very cute little combination Thai/Hippie/Yuppie establishment called Rice on biscuits and Washington Park. Earlier I was at a place called Brooklyn Express coffee shop of something like that on Dekalb....where I was walking Tundra, Garrett's dog, until the owner came out and yelled at me about grooming Tundra who was shedding a storm cloud of fur in front of his "place of business" like I was some kind of criminal. Well I AM his business, I paid for my coffee. And dog biscuits which they were selling.....plus they had a bowl of water on the sidewalk for dogs. Tundra actually led me there.....there was this kind of dyky punk woman working there....a nice break from the otherwise bland upper middle class people in this area......I bought my latte and biscuits ect then I had taken this metal thing you brush fur off with....and Tundra was shedding so much it got in my mouth everywhere......so this owner.....a tall muscular African American guy....came out and was saying he appreciates me cleaning it the fur is going into his shop ect. This is what I have to deal with every morning. I am used to being able to start my day with coffee at least and a little down time but I get none now. The dog has to go out and I won't get into her going to the bathroom everywhere. And I mean everywhere. Mornings are very stressful as is this situation.

But that said, I'm sitting in this Rice place....despite the fact that I got into an argument with these people sitting outside yesterday again over Tundra who I won't get into it cause I'm about to eat. But the music is very nice reminds me of this Brazilian music my boyfriend's ex wife sang...which he played for me. In a bizarre way I'm very inspired by this....and this is helping me. It's very soft and dreamy.......unreal, almost like fairies singing. I am very moved by all this fairy talk I think it's awesome.....whether they're "real" or not isn't the point.....your art becomes life. Fairies and demons. A little better. A little.

Friday, September 03, 2010

written sometime in may this year

I've never been near a volcano or seen lava
once I tried to make one
exploded all over the kitchen
Mother home from work and screamed raged
formidable beast of flower no end to it
am I a brat
patience is evil
I am a bitch
I hate myself Amen
what a cruel game
what a cruel joke that was
what a cruel world
joke's not funny anymore it was on us
love is a knife
love is jealousy slowly cutting
eating away at your life
needing revenge
the fog, the ugliness of it all away all away

Thursday, September 02, 2010

holy?

My mother has this book of international literature and among them is the Qu'ran. I am very very enraged at reading this to the point where I am ready to ......go crazy. It makes sense in the worst way. The constant phrase "God is merciful" then telling people God will throw people into hell fire for all eternity if they don't believe in "Him" that women have no rights and if you're a slave you're really SOL. All this because this is how "God" wants it. Uh, not to bash anyone's beliefs but....I'm bashing them. I don't discriminate against Muslims no that's not right I am against that. I do have major issues with the religion. I'm trying to put it out of my mind. Is this how all men think, just they don't publicly say it cause they can't anymore? You can't marry a woman plus her sister, in case that's what you were planning on doing. Sorry for the letdown. You can't marry your stepdaughter. Guess Woody Allen would not be accepted there, he's going to hell according to them. God is merciful. What can I say? Well, these are my opinions. Maybe I'm "ignorant" well be they as they are this is what I feel; so far what I"ve read makes me against this belief. Have to say it.

Saturday, August 28, 2010

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Oh30JhRIeI&feature=related



I have to preface this by saying I am NOT advocating anyone use drugs of any kind. Sadly use becomes abuse too fast. I won't deny I was addicted to cocaine but I found antidepressants and adderall and yes tina I won't deny it and I'm not on coke. I have ADD for real (I know people allegedly lie about it but I"m not lying; I really have it) and I suffer depression and medicine has helped me. Meth at times has helped me focus. I know there are those of you who will be horrified but that's the reality: uppers have helped me. ADD, bipolar, depression are real medical diseases as is borderline disorder and people suffering from it do need medicine. But yes it's dangerous, and because honestly of irresponsible behavior of some we all suffer, myself included, in not being able to get prescription medication I need. Because I get grilled and tested and told to come back for more testing and if you've ever done coke in your life they won't give you antidepressants or adderall and won't prescribe the latter at all because it's like cocaine...and some people abuse the shit out of it......and so we all suffer. But we NEED it, some of us. I have had days where I was ready to faint, couldn't get out of bed, couldn't finish anything, couldn't focus, or study, where I would stand up and see black and practically faint. I couldn't talk to anyone or think clearly. I couldn't pay attention. I would just feel like falling asleep, for days. Walking and running were excruciating. Stimulants were prescribed by a psychiatrist, and I was able to finish work and think right and get things done that I couldn't before. I would fall asleep in the middle of studying, or get irritable, spacy, depressed.....and suffer over and over again. I was depressed and it is a biological condition. Medication got rid of the problem. BUT if you're already manic obviously anything to make you more manic will make your brain explode. Everyone's chemistry is different. THere's a reason dancers use uppers. All my life I've suffered a slow metabolism as well.

THat said:
honestly; I have to say I believe these trips are more in their heads than a result of drugs. Everyone's brain chemistry is different. If you're not mentally sound you should AVOID drugs....if you're already manic you shouldn't take any amphetemine. or uppers....I have ADD so stuff like this doesn't phase me I dare say it almost makes me normal.....I still fall asleep. psychiatrists grill people with questions because of this problem. OBVIOUSLY if you're pregnant you should never do drugs or alcohol or cigarettes. And there are people who want abortion to be illegal! Which is worse?

more on this

some highlights I remember....this one cracked me up. An article written by a woman lawyer, hm....women keeping women down, deja vu anyone? Anyhow, this lawyer wrote "In Defense of Chastity" saying girls should not give into men's advances because men will think they're sluts and not want to marry them then if they get pregnant they'd "really be in a pickle." Crazy huh? This is how people lived. In Feminine Mystique, Friedan quoted this male professor saying something like, girls need to ask themselves, "Should I willingly prepare myself for a lifelong celibate career?" And this was in college, including the prestigious seven sisters like Smith where both Plath and Friedan went. My mother tells me back then....something like you'd have to worry about preganancy like you do, say, HIV now, and that "everyone would think you were a slut" and you would be sent away. Your classmates would be told a lie like that you are visiting your sick aunt. Abortions were of course illegal and clandestine. The pro-choice movement was originally a radical one. It was certainly beyond shocking for a woman to get up in public and speak about it; much like Margaret Sanger and birth control at the turn of the century. I read in Margaret Atwood something like, it took three phone calls back in the day. I read a quote somewhere where a woman said something like, "All this talk about AIDS now, but back in the fifties pregnancy was the kiss of death." And went on to say what my mother told me. Truthfully, it was common for women to "have" to marry then. Simple, and not. Now our problems are different but extremely complicated....we're supposed to live up to these impossible standards of the Superwoman. Really, a child takes everything out of you. Pushing a bowling ball out of yourself; it's not hard to imagine why women suffer PTSD, or post partum depression. Of course.....my mother said the screams in a ward are horrible and so is the pain; she said it sounds like a torture chamber. My mother was tied to the bed: going to the doctor was a way of going to be tortured. My mother tells gruesome stories of what she and her brothers went to going to the dentist. Plus the didn't have the same health standards so people had worse dental problems. Shock therapy is horrible and it's now known totally unnecessary, as is vivisection. ADD was not understood; kids were punished for that, or schizophrenia. THose suffering these illnesses are among the brightest to, according to....Kay something, author of a book on bipolar, have to look that up. Oh, An Unquiet Mind. THe deaths are unnecessary as well. What happened to Plath naturally could have been avoided. I suppose she was bipolar or suffered ADD which are treatable now. I know many people who have it. More later on this....Oh a bell jar is a vaccuum? like a tube, used in TV and film? ?????


Oh yes, another highlight of the book is where she describes this African American waiter serving string beans and baked beans together, and has him saying "Mah! Mah!" I think she or one of the others kicks the plate because two beans are not supposed to be served together. That stands out as well, having been served hospital food myself. That part has been running through my mind.


My next book is In Cold Blood. Another fifties book. That era did produce some great work and interesting people, I'll say, for all the repression. The film Capote, which I saw with my mother, sister and SOnny, is one of the best I've seen. I'd say if you were living back then and NOT having a nervous breakdown, especially after being served articles like "In Defense of Chastity" that's when you know you're REALLY screwed up! I mean, did anyone really take that seriously?
I wrote this as a response to another video...but it wouldn't upload for some reason. here's the link


Bell Jar Youtube Review


Actually Plath's era was Pre Feminist. Or rather Pre Second Wave Feminism. It was the time that....set the precedent, I believe that's how they say it. Women were then told they had to choose between marriage and motherhood and a career.....they couldn't have both. Read The Feminine Mystique--which grew out of her era. Betty Friedan was one of these typical suburban housewives....and wrote from her own experience. You think it's hard to balance all these things now just imagine what it was like then....there was little or no support for a woman trying to "have it all." They were told they couldn't. Much has drastically improved even if it's far from perfect. Very very long topic for discussion but we don't have ten years to go into it all....but I recommend reading Friedan. Good review, though!

the bell jar by sylvia plath

OK so I suppose this is unique to my computer which is really fucked up......but some how the tint makes it so that every person is cast ina satanic kind of red light. NOt that that's bad I guess it's good? I dunno.

In this video, this iri, who comes across as a bit of a twit.....she's saying look at my cute kictchen and the little oven is right behind her. In the book I have some of Plaths sketchings are in there--one of a tool shed with among other things a lloose old fashioned metal stove....wood burning?

In this video....mine....this girls eyes are glowing red....where her eyes are are like two red blobs, kind of like the spot on Jupiter. Kind of like out of Creepshow.

Could this be in part Plath's ghust? Or my projection? It is what it is.

reading the bell jar



sometimes I think I was born into the wrong era. Or wish I could go back in a time machine. WOuld it ever be possible to invent one? Science fiction always bored me.....but who knows. Stanley Kubrick and Sylvia Plath were contemporaries and I am someone who tends to mull over photos....as I have his and hers. I have her picture on the back of the novel, and his.....when he was young; and he was really a hottie then...they are but two years apart in age. My grandmother was born in 1926....same year as Monroe. Another one I find fascinating. MOst Hollywood stars don't interest me....maybe Grace Kelly. Vivien Leigh but she was British....she was someone who thought the stage was superior but she ....she was born for the camera. She had that something--you couldn't take your eyes off her. Blah.....rambling.....but to think both of the people I just mentioned may have been in NYC at the same time and never knew eachother.....Mother says I'm obsessed but if I am it's your fault Mom.....You dragged me to these films as a kid. But I don't blame you...think what I would have missed!

This picture of Plath is disturbing to me. To think she was only around 19 or 20 then....both of them were. I guess.....they were kids like us...well like I was at one time, like I see everywhere.







Thursday, August 26, 2010

Yoko Ono - Kiss Kiss Kiss (Reversed)





I have to say....Oh man the letters came out red too! I don't get spooked easily having studied alternative spirituality: but THIS is spman this is the infernal stuff go back to celestials?????!!!!!?????suggestionsI had heard ....now I don't know HOW anyone discovered this.....that the reverse of "kiss kilss kiss is "I shot hjohn Lennon:" and there are those who dismiss conspiracy cas bs well decide for yourself. I personally got chills.

OK more paranoia....but the time for positing thisw said also 4:11.....adds up to 6.

ALSO I AM A GENIUS: kiss kiss kiss


reversed


ssik ssik ssik


move the ses around and you have siks siks siks ok you get te idea


I have to say having read about Satanism and knowing Satanists and being De spooked and de programmed still raised Episcopalian; a tolerant and kind form of Christianity: having slept with a Bible on the table as a kid to keep away evil spirits; and my Greatest Stories of Jesus book my grandmother got me; where I stayed up late and read all those stories: blessed are the poor, verily I say unto you, it's easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to get into Heaven, bury your talents and watch them grow, the road to hell is widely paved and many follow it; the road to heaven is twisted and hard to follow and few find it; ect ect I grew up with all these messages! Or that the devil would come out of the closet, thanks Mom, for teaching me this; the little red man with hooves for feet and horns on his head: all this scared the fucking shit out of me as a kid. My mom's then husband would play Monty Python tapes, or give them to me to listen to, because I was alone in my room and too fucking scared to sleep. Also, my mother told me the Mac Beth story but that's another thing. I was seriously afraid these ghosts would come after me; and they really were there. My stepsisters and I once played around with a Uuija board and the thing was moving; whatever it was. Sure there was something there. I dream about that place on Belmont still. Kermit the frog sheets. Digress a little.