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."

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!

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.

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

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.

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.

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?

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?

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

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.

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.

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

इ

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.

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

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

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?

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

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.

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?

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.

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

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.

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

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.

Yoko Ono - Kiss Kiss Kiss (Reversed)

fairies

they took her earrings maybe
they are here maybe
they took my rings maybe
what did I feed them small price to pay?

thought they landed on me but it was an ugly black fly
my polish is chipped and my hands naked
my feet are dirty I might as well have not showered
she asked what Irish Moss is for
her earrings were
a hundred tiny emeralds gold and green
her eyes are gold and green
There are clouds of green outside my window
so many could there be so many


cheesy poem maybe inspired by a woman at flower power where I went to get rose oil. They were out. Later I talked to her again...she said she was in a bad mood because maybe the fairies took her earrings. I guess I'm not the weirdest person out there....hm.....and I can't find my rings now either

Spring St

all because of him all
you know it was
it was because of him
you know it was


their faces are blue
their hair is straw their
their faces are blue
help will it help
they say don't be afraid
you won't know until you do
won't know then
won't know then didn't know then
you won't know until then
didn't know until then

and they are staring they
are glaring
they are staring at you
all of them
you ran from him
you ran from them
the street is brick
the light is blue and
they were waiting waiting for you
don't let them tell you they're not still
not still you saw him there
there was him you saw him
there there was him
there was them because of them


the streets are brick
the light is blue
there is a ton of water
springing up there for you

a face in the dirt
a roll of tape
a face, a doll's face
doll's face waiting for you


and they were there and there was you
he was wearing that hat
wearing that hat
wearing that hat
waiting for you he was wearing that hat
and waiting for you
waiting for you
their faces are blue

you should come see this
it's really bad
come see this
he's waiting waiting
is he alive? not really dead
the hair is straw
straw is yellow
yellow is their hair
he's waiting there

sometimes

YOU ARE A DUNCE!!!!!!!!!!


just after that day
the faces are purple
their hair is straw
move your arms more
move your arms more
shake your ass
move your arms
shake your ass
after that day after that day
it was after that day
so many of them
after that day
so many of them

rooms and hallways
the light is bright
the light is bright
the moon is white
her name is white
her name is play
name is play
won't go away
her name is play won't go away

her dress is green
really is green
so light, lifted up with no weight
it was you all along

come back

after a night of partying. THAT part went well. My friend Lydia put on a gorgeous green gown tied the ends, some lipstick and did a Spanish like dance. THis other woman an African Brazilian was there and showed us her African Congo dance videos. Jeannette is the woman whose house we were at. It is a gorgeous loft apartment actually she had all these amazing candle holders bedspreads and six cats three dogs a back yard really lucky. Dog one of them kept pissing. But it was lovely regardless. I performed my Irish folk gothic dance. The African girl Funmi I think was her name made these Acai and vodka drinks. Earlier Lydia and I had a nice time at Tillies talking about various things.....

THen I come back to G's and.......he had gotten mad at me for washing the floors as soap was slippery. But there is no way I could NOT wash them. Impossible. THey are and were horribly filthy. There was an extra layer of dirt. The dog shit on the bed.....I won't get into that. So after being very VERY tired I had all this wine and proceeded to wash the bedspread and I HAD to wash the floor.....only ONE day after having SLAVED to scrub that goddamned floor there was yet another film of disgusting dirt and horrible .......I cannot stand to have a messy floor. WHen I first got here I spent days cleaning it. WHich is worse, peeling paint or dead bugs and filth grime bacteria I won't get into what else. Rusty nails. All kinds of terrible stuff. Sharp edged plants. I mean I'm only trying to help but also I cannot stand to live this way. I hate cleaning but I can rest easier now. It used to be I would come home and spend an hour cleaning after the cats. I'm drunk and need to get drunker. Even though I had a good night. Well....I had been hysterical before thinking I had worked my fingers to the bone for nothing blah blah but I'm better now. Help. HELP. Turns out I had used castille soap which made the floor slippery....he said something like I almost killed myself slipping on my own floor.......trying to wash out the bad stuff and I am fearful but hey it is what it is.

Still.....I'm thinking so much of that night and it was really incredibly moving. Lydia is a gorgeous dancer when put together. Her dress was designed by Jeanette a sherbert green I don't think I could wear that color but she wore it very well. She managed to move well as a dancer and kick ass......

Looking forward to moving ON moving ON moving ON what will it take?

Amazing

how some people seem to have no problems. But of course I don't know for certain. But it seems like some people's lives are one long bubble. Well, I guess I can do the same.

I had this dream that I was in a deli.....or hotel....storage space? Kept finding $20 bills I'd lost and forgotten about. White floors. Not completely clean.


The mist and rain and cool breezes are so nice. I have lemons and other doodads......clay figures on my windowsill.

the fifties

were in some ways horrific and great and many things. but they produced some interesting people. you know the saying, if it were another time and place.....well, yes. But it's not; it's now; things are what they are. I try not to think what if or if only cause it's futile. But I still think that.

Woody Allen - Take the money and run - Bank robbery

some writings over the past few months

stuff I jotted down; now I'll put them here since I want to recycle some paper.

glad I stayed with you
great idea don't you agree?
did you beg me not to leave
and beg and beg and beg
love or control? which is it?
what good news must wait til Thursday?
if we need love, stability
organization? travel? want to go here?
fly? fly?
Air? sword? fight? stab with words?



Once we were in love
it's so hard to remember
eyes brown like sand sand
falling in the hour glass
it wasn't to last
we knew it wouldn't
a tender box
a birthday present
blew out the candles
make a wish
hate me hurt me
blow blow on my candles
oh the stab
it hurts the stab it hurts
but you (can't read my own writing)
I turn again
I turn against myself
oh they can never never take
oh but it could
burn death large but it could
burned away
once we had everything
once you put me at the top of the list
at the top of the list
at the top of the list
and we were at the top I was drunk but we didn't get hit
where was I?
oh but it was pink
pink and so bright but it could be
once he fell all over me
on top of me
two three one how we bled
til we both were dead
oh how we bled
oh how we were red
and you know he did
and you know how he did
and the mirror is merciless
jealousy how it pricks
how it burns relentless a slow dull blad
ever so slowly turning
show all of you
a demon flew over my head
once how we bled
one we were red
two how we bled
fearful need


written 4/16/10

afternote: some of my poetry is a little maudlin.....rather the gory stuff, personal stuff


4/16/10

I'm a thief
a crook
sorceress
demon sigil
horns on my head
a perfect fit
I'm a killer baby
that can be read two ways
I'm a killer, baby
and I'm a killer baby
hm kind of like the second
fill me up
I'm evil
I'll never be anything but evil
I'm not blonde
believing in God
believing in Santa
believing in Adam and Eve
one day
I'll end up in a trash can in the woods
that'll be the end
I won't be the first
oh but you're still dreaming
if only you knew
how I bled purple and red for you
how I bleed
my heart is full of black soot

and I insist insist insist it melt away (these two lines I just added)
oh but you're still dreaming
if only you knew me
how I bled purple and red for you
how I bleed
you I still need
come to me
me me only

all that's so ugly
so ghastly godawful
in Bushwick a hideous place
you don't know what you're missing
you're not missing anything
a mattress on the floor
a memory of him
what life there is here, and there's very little
a back yard full of weeds
dark hideously ugly cellar of a hideously ugly building
in a neighborhood of shacks, train tracks, everything grey
and a mess
but the library coffee shop is here
one pretty red ribbon
full of pretty people
and a happy blue dolphin swam toward me here
one thing I knew I'd end up here

but not this place, I bought purple and black candles
that and my art the only attractive thing
this basement like a tomb, a dirty one
a cellar of cold, damp, grey and sooty hell
a soulless place
quiet and piss yellow ugly
(I added these couple stanzas now)

(original)
words--so few--so beautiful
from your schizophronic brain juices
I got naked
I'm a wreck
I looked at the leaves
imagined the sun
filled myself with 30,000 roses
and screamed for over an hour
(recently written)

they he lit me on fire
all my pain turned into cheap vaudeville
christmas tree lit up
you abused me
how did I life through this?
my panties are red
purple and bled
oh how I slip
oh how you flip
me ????


cookies are green
sparkles are bright
sleep through the day
live through the night

tortured, raped, beaten
the choir sings faces tilted
she stabbed you a million times
she purposely degraded you
the dirty river behind both of us



from hell you're from hell you're going to hell
love kills it's all I know
it's what I'm used to
a family of schizophrenics
he said that's made up bullshit
schizophrenia: could be a character in a play
talk to me please
he will die, I will die
on a cross in a street, bloodied
his brains a mish mesh of wire
he won't live


I thought love I slept on a floor
a beer, a symbol, something I drew
purple bled it could be worse
the salt stings my mouth my bones I feel it shake me every molecule
you who are sugar
bless through the computer
oh the love a stuffing for a toy frog
belong where you belong



(next page)

it's five oclock in the morning
I'm hurting, hurting bad
your tire went flat
I almost killed myself on that bridge
the bus headed for Mass
just before it crashed
the fires, letters lit up like eyes of a jack o lantern
I only got burned the farmer in me has thick bones
from Illinois from peasants
no I"m not dreaming this
watch something burn
dolls are turning toward you
they're really staring at you
the faces are staring at you
they are in the wall
they are in the bricks
the skull is on the table
love love in a dingy room
one tree and foam
it's aphrodite in this bottle
everything was grey
except for that one light
and the book Wicked
everything dark
all of them and you you're just a satellite
really aren't you?

the book said, "Kill the wicked witch of the West"
oh the pink the pink you and me
we sleep
there's purple in this dark
is still love only love
one beer a burn
they some of them sleep in the street
steaming in glass I have been on the curb
and I've been in the Plaza
all the gold stairs are dull
empty if

and you thought it was a joke
thought it was an accident
that a skull candle
wouldn't do that wouldn't do that wouldn't do that
that's what you thought
you who were so smart
you were so goddamn smart
I'm shaken shaken twisted I'll never recover from this
you had such a brainy blonde head
it wasn't real it wasn't
really it was red
really it was red
the skull was real but it was too late before you knew it

the corpses were real coming out of the swimming pool
that person really was choking
her dress waved in the wind it was red too
they said it was a wig

bloodied and muddied
meant to be
face staring at me
crocodile? he appears......he's always there is he?
this is no dream
we were shot at
bleeding and life some coffee
sugar, eggs, a rag between my legs
they'd get what they want?
wouldn't be me
I was a fool and learned the hard way
I've severed ties
no more staying up all night
blood on the mattress he has that too
he has my writings
he'll try to say they're his
bullshit they're not his

this is it
this is really it
I won't be that thing
I won't be thrown out
spells, summon, any kind of peace of mind
destroyed by him
she's hot totally hot
she was talking about poor
as if she knew what it meant
she was useless and stupid why mince words

skin white as snow lips red as blood hair black as the black keys on a piano
death and dying
the dead girl
lips red as blood
put the black oil on
well now I know

some of them had fangs so did she
the black cat

last night

I was going to take a book to read....but left it home thinking it was too much to carry. But I ended up in a train station and it's always my habit to bring something to read.....I bought the Times and NY Post (I like to read the crime blotter). I read the book review.....words like "visceral" being used....thinking it's nice to read something really intelligent; really somewhat soulful.......even if those same words are in every such article, which they usually are. On the way back I was looking for something similar.....ultimately bought the Enquirer. This is fascinating stuff. Stuff you don't hear about elsewhere.
I went running and that's when I do a sort of morning meditation....like the morning pages....I wake up feeling horrible, with horrible thoughts in my head. Running and writing clear all that out....I was thinking about bad things that happened to me when I was a kid. THere was bad and good. My parents made mistakes I'm not excusing what they did: they hurt me at times. NO one beat or molested me or.....well so many things I hear about. I can I did forgive them. I had very good and very bad fortune. THe good can turn into bad because if you're blessed with good things people get jealous and vindictive. Probably Assia was jealous of Sylvia Plath maybe unconsciously she wanted to get her where it counted. Too many people suffered and died unnecessarily. On the up side, with modern medicine and psychiatry/psychology much of this can be prevented. There was so much creativity at one period....I would guess there is little in history that equaled it. It was really wet and springing with stuff......but sadly there was bad as well under the surface. We were in the center of both. It was great and it nearly killed me.

But looking through the Enquirer....I mean.....there's this ad: kids born with clefts; that I'm looking at. Now that's really really bad. I know I have it good compared to much of the world. So I will try to make the most of what I have going for me.......this is what I want to accomplish:


travel: South America, maybe back to Europe....Africa. Main places for now
learn shorthand
better relationship love love happy love if others can have it so can I goddamn it.
better living situation
more pets, cats kids
better job in film
writing finished
learn tarot

oh la green

and it's on me
at me on me at me
green green fall down on me
the sun is yellow and
I am green
the sun is yellow and I am green

as far

as "new age" goes....everything has good and bad in it. but...I worked in a health food store. Yes there were many good things they sold. But.....am I the only one here....I'm not....shooting water into your ass is not going to make someone spiritually enlightened or healthy. I mean, I don't do it and look at me I'm wonderful. .......more to come.......

coming to me that means beware of jealousy
this empty space in me
black sooty mess in my heart is disintegrating
because jealous bitches I mean men also are having their hell day


this terrible place and these terrible people
rage....shakes me up twists my heart
twists it mercilessly
pain dizziness white snotty stringy
insanity I am a 300 pound man
rage shoots at him like a bullet
he who deserves it, he knows who he is
I could move this whole train station

sooty yellow Dad's gun was gold
this person isn't worth it
one day, it'll happen one day
only for one day, that day, he's gonna get it
he's gonna get it good

summer song, that was her name?
my blood drips onto this rose
i was scraped by the thorn
it was a sweet pain
if I could feel it again with
the rain with the rain he's coming to me again
with the petals pink petals falling over me
soft and plush lighter than feathers
a man is returning
I'm here an apple a flower
a pink ribbon the rays are yellow
the petals are pink he's coming to me
Venus is green petals are pink
flowers, the real ones
I'll take love specks of lust
all the lust is red dust
raining down on us

New Poem

Feeling in kind of a funk. Come cheer me up. Maybe cause I've had to deal with some very bad people and I'm tired from dancing and walking my friend's dog and today this kid in the park fell and was screaming horribly......so loud the whole park shook. It's awful to be a witness to that kind of suffering.....I wanted to scream myself. Im feeling a little better. On the up side, I am in a cute room with a cute bedspread and I've written twenty or so notebooks worth of stuff in the time span of just a few months.

And after three goes of this.....argh!!!!!!!!! Fucking computer kept crashing. This is a few hours later and half a Chicago India Pale Ale.

Garrett's place is shaped....the building I mean, slightly like the Overlook Hotel. It has the same A frame shingle windows. Whatever this means, maybe nothing, maybe something. I know what I have to write as far as a NYC story goes, is on the level of Scarface or Taxi Driver. Except from a woman's point of view and retaining the humor. And it shall make me a star.....really the money is what I need the most now. If it weren't, it'd be easier, I could get a job with the census bureau like my mother suggested.

I have been studying Anne Sexton and Sylvia Plath I adore them both. Scorpio women writers are the ones I gravitate to. I think Sylvia Plath just missed being beautiful, but Anne Sexton was. She was blessed with the right facial characteristics. But Plath was a stronger writer. Just my opinion.


Anyhow.....

munch and munch, little munchkin
the road is yellow and
I have only orange
the road is yellow
I have only orange

you say that you said
you say that you said
gold is here and here is gold
munch away little munchkin



my love oh lovely

well

this will be part of something much larger. I am very scared......all the things that are out there on the net.....as someone who researches many spiritual matters it is very disturbing to see how much garbage is out there. Especially in the wiccan and pagan communities, some, not all, emphasize things like "karma" which are from the east, and according to discussions I've had with people raised in the Hindu tradition and India, where it comes from, it's been ridiculously distorted and abused in the west as really a method of control. In other words what is learned here has little to do with what it originally meant. Also, my friend told me the religious texts were written by a group of men. Point being, it has been popularized to keep people down, from having any real personal power which is of course threatening to those with money and power in the world. I once heard a speech by Sarah Palin, and so many conservatives, talking about how ....what was it? Rich people having more money and higher profits of business would benefit "all of you" meaning regular folk.....In countries like India and many African countries 1 percent of the population has all the money while most others are living in the streets, sleeping in cardboard boxes or on blankets laid out. There are rich people there, and they spend all right, and have many servants, I mean, yeah, they hire people to wait on them hand and foot and tend the gardens give them pedicures and wash windows.....list goes on and on......but how this benefits regular people, the ones begging for pennies on street corners, I have yet to see. It's sick, so sick I can't think of any words, how rich people have used religion to keep poor people down. Slave owners would tell slaves that this is where "God" wanted them to be and things would get better after they died. The idea of being rewarded in this mystical afterlife was motivation for enduring every form of misery on earth. Ironically, Jesus was on the side of the poor and downtrodden. Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are the meek and the needy, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Sadly....so many disturbed spirits roam the earth now.....millions of them.....more.....with no one to reach out to because their immediate family have been taught that the spirit world is mumbo jumbo baloney......thank "New Age" and all its silliness......finding out after it's too late they've been duped. It's scary to me, infinitely so, how many people I see their writings on the internet, people who abuse themselves. How long can it take before someone is just a lost cause, way out on the edge of the edge of nowhere......and there is no talking any sense at all to them? There is NO karma. That is total bullshit and stupidity!

aphrodite

cruel deception
dizzy red it shoots through me
and I don't exist, I'm upside down
rage.....a mountain of it
I'm a 300 pound man
to the target.....who deserves it

rage shot out of me like a bullet
if only I had Dad's pistol or
lucky I don't have it
this worthless creature isn't worth it

new stuff

well I do have tons of writing but it's all on notebooks. I had limited internet access and this computer is jerky in its connection so............but there is much to come. I just have to type it all out.


this is a dream I had....this is after coming back from a really freaky part of brooklyn: 9th st and 4th ave. The block is full of churches and then right next to it a Satanic bar. All on one block. All these houses look like your classic haunted house....like what you see in books.

Now, my stupid phone isn't working. On the up side, I made a small bit of money which I need.


So the dream is.....some people I know from the "art star" god such a corny phrase.....I'm sorry.....show up at my apartment or my friend's place.....and they are all dressed to go to the beach. Except it's very late at night. Somewhere interspersed with this I am driving a huge truck around a parking lot and don't know how to drive. I have this dream all the time. I run over a few things....and just miss going over the ledge. Somehow I get out and it's tilted to the side......

I am about to ask about a friend of mine and they tell me not to ask.....then they all leave.....I'm left alone in this place.....looks like it could be my dad's old place. The walls are white. I have that dream a lot too.....that Dad is alive and I'm with him in that apartment he had in Chicago....but we are in separate rooms. He is sitting in that chair he had. He's kind of alive and dead at the same time. He's trying to say something to me.....


So there's been good and bad. More on that later.

take the money and run funny bits

horrors

where is the real evil?
look around you
it's humans humans humans

where is the real horror the real sickness?
escape, how? escape, how? escape, how?

who are the real monsters? I live with one of them
oh so nice your stupid rainbows don't fool me


you think oh so you think oh so you think oh so you think
rage....flew past me, past me........
oh yes, pretty it's been for a time now

go ahead and delude yourself, because
if you think I love you
you are demented beyond a doubt my friend
oh so pink, oh so lovely
where's that day of what? reckoning?


oh yes, lovely it is
oh yes, lovely it is
oh yes lovely it is


you don't deserve it it was never yours
you are not its rightful owner
you never will be because you are a deluded bitch
oh yes you've sailed along
oh so peacefully
haven't you?
only the knives are under your pillows
you don't see them
nice, very nice
I still don't want to be you

yes been forever

well......I have been writing but had no internet access.....sucks I know.


I'll be honest here.

My mother asked why I'm "obsessed" with The Shining. I'm not obsessed. But there is something said in this film....and one viewing won't explain it all. For me, well....my uncle committed suicide. NOt an easy thing to write here but you know some things need to be written. His name was Danny. And it was in a house that just had a horribly negative vibe like this hotel.....in a remote part of the woods. It was in Battle Creek, Michigan. To anyone unfamiliar with Battle Creek.....when I was a kid my mother, sister and brother used to call it Battle Hick......I would say that and they told me to never say it, and wouldn't tell me why. I was on the treadmill once, and saw a show about how a little girl drowned in a bathtub in Battle Creek. Also, about 150 years ago, there was a train wreck in Battle Creek, where over 100 people died. One of them was probably a distant relative of ours. Gunshots? My uncle was schizophrenic also.


There's also the presence of many double Ls in the names.....you could say it's like a foreshadowing to.....well need I say it? Think about it. Also, this interview Kubrick talked about the Icarus myth....getting too close to the sun. Speaking of which, I'm a Leo. In the maze...well, what I see are four Ss. SSSS. What is that? In Chinese myth, four is death. Susan Sonny Sam Saiter. This is terrible, I know. I know. Well, it is what it is. To be honest.....having been inside the World Trade Center.....the interior of this hotel looks much like it.

OK, gruesome topic over. It's a waning moon in Aries, and I'm dog sitting for a friend, and finally have internet access.

"Some things happened here, and not all of them were good." I'm sitting across from Fort Greene Park, where 11,500 people are buried, killed by the British soldiers.

He makes many references to bathing, which is like cleansing....something done before Christianity came along. Cleansing negativity. I think that's what I need. That and some pot. Or wine. To get this off of me.



Also, one of my favorite people, Lydia, is back in town. Newyorkdancer.com will give you an idea of her. Hearts. Not the time for them. Timing is everything. Good thing my dear didn't return today.....

And as for my writing I am doing that as well. Will post my new poems shortly....

so much

I've been mia due to fucked up internet access and getting back in shape as a danseuse.....working on new material. I do have a new phone but am figuring it out still. got some new pix......be back soon. Went running today and it's 99 degrees out!