Honestly, children

Know what i've been thinking lately? "Boy, has it really been 6 months since my vehicle has been assaulted? How queer, my car life has been on such a smooth path since i've abandoned my Cameroni. With the back doors that don't open, and the self-installed dashboard, the foul spirits must have fled from my life. Those dangerously addictive demons gots a new G-ride. Boy, has it really been 6 months since my vehicle has been assaulted?

Curiously, the answer is Yes.

Memorial day, February 21st, 2005---1988 Camry LX, Blue--Stolen from ungated parking structure from the front of my apartment building. Found 1 day later, abandoned less than 2 miles away. Battery? Dead.

Lame Day, July 26, 2005---1989 Jeep Cherokee, Brown--Side window shattered, radio
stolen along with CD's. The bestest part? In event of my moving, i had sorted the 25 best CD's. The ones you can't not have for more than a day to 1 week. The ones you fall asleep to at night, that force you to be happy when yr not only awake at 7am, but that the temperature is already 85 degrees Fahrenheit. The ones that fan yr terrific anger when yr pissing away through traffic. The ones i love. Fuck them, i don't need shit.

Thursdays

Thursdays are the last day that the library stays open until 8pm. During my pre-library walks, I think about how i want to sum up my day. I think about what i did, what i felt, who i saw, etc. I try and take the most exciting and the most mundane. Most exciting part of the day--when my boss caught me on the internet. We are not allowed on the internet. I was breaking the rule. In the lamest way possible. I did enjoy when i offered my cube mate some Trader Joe's honey roasted almonds. "Do you want nuts in your mouth?" "Ya, a little".
Most mundane part of the day--when i was thought i was 4 policies away from finishing all my work, and counted, only to find i was really 6 policies away from finishing.
I had a semi-excited moment when i looked up some books on sex. I found the section 612.6 M958. The 612.6's. That's where i gotta go. Maybe I will cut this early. I also found this book on 60's hairstyles that i'll be checking out. I'm not really as bored as you might imagine. My chickenly, chinese chasm of anger always has my back. In that one arena, at least.
I miss doing drugs. I remembered missing it after talking to a friend claiming she's got access to methodone, oxicotin, and other things that i don't know the names of. She sounded like that guy from trainspotting who was also that guy who kidnapped Alicia Silverstone. One thing i hate about not having my tracker anymore is that i can no longer find out which of my posts are read purely because of google's keywords.
Examples: jody foster hermaphodite, tag teaming, oxicotin
That is unless i spelled it wrong, which i probably did. Fuck you.

Brain Error

I just figured out why i was so pissed when i changed my format to a template. Not only did i lose the mistakes that i couldn't fix, but i also lost all my links, my tracker. Damn it. I don't have time for this.

The Library is Closing.

I left for a long time. Sure, my internet was broken, but i was a hurt little bunny. i didn't want to give no one nothing. i didn't want to give me nothing. it would have been little chocolate covered bullets for my chocolate covered future. I'm learning why i was such a bitch. I'm learning why i was so immature. I may have learned why i hate you, the metaphysical you, the interchangeable love in my head. The interchangeable hate in my face. I know why and i'm gonna do it even better. You ain't seen apathy like mine. You ain't seen this fucked up shit. Everyday i strive for a deeper sense of your abandonment. I talk not to mine enemies. I talk to my love.

Un Ano Pasado

Oh god, maybe i am getting less stupid.
It's not progression, baby, i swear!!!!

Walk me Counter Clockwise.

I guess my stupid birthday didn't really help me figure anything out. I mean seriously, how could a day, a very hot day in the middle of july really help solve anything good. After i write this, i'm going to go back to last year's post around this day. Maybe i have made some sort a progress but it is unrecognizable in the present moment. But i don't want progress. All that bullshit implies is moving forward, learning from and about mistakes, finding out what's what in yr head. I don't want that. Ya, i don't want progress. I want regress. I want you to walk me counter clockwise, baby. It's not like in the TV shows, where the semi-main character has an approaching birthday of remarkable status. Like 50 or 40 or 30.

ANd anyway, we all hate those subplots, they are so boring and unpleasant to think about. Who cares about old people? Maybe that's what i'm saying. ANyway, It's not like that at all. I don't care about my physical age. I don't care about all the things i haven't and probably never will accomplish. I don't care that it appears increasingly creepy to sleep with boys in their late teens. Just kidding, i haven't done that in years. But do you see how defensively quick I covered that up? Well, whatever, it was a joke, and besides my point was that i don't care. I really don't. I don't want a good job with health benefits. I don't want prominence. I don't want that kind of power. At least not right now. At least not on my slippery decline into age 30. I just don't want to bore myself senseless.

The point? There isn't one, and even if there were, I wouldn't spell it out for anybody, least of all myself. I'm gonna be like Frankenfurter. I'm gonna learn to control lightning and time warps. I'm mad with excitement.

The Thing that Made me Think. Oh, stupid Squirrel

I'm not even sure if it is the same squirrel that i keep seeing. I do circles on the big dirt ring at the park. There is a tree that pops from the sewers. That may sound gross, but hey, it's LA. This is the manyth time that i've seen this squirrel up there. The first time he was growling. Who knows how many times he had seen me pass before it came into his head to growl. I liked his growl, it sounded like a bird. Maybe chirp is better adjective or verb. No, silly noun. HOw stupid.
I can't really say for sure whether the squirrel i saw today was the same as all the other days. Sure, same tree. Sure, same brown squirrel tale. Sure, same growl. Though today, he wasn't growling. He was shoving leaves into his mouth. It reminded me of perverts who eat pork and watch porn simultaneously. He probably just liked my chubby cheeks. He probably just thought i keep very warm. Maybe he wasn't even a he at all.

Felice Cumpleani, Blogher!

My internet is fucked. Oh well.

i should be sleeping

Recovery is sometimes difficult. I will speak of greater details when the time is near.

Poor Habits Keep Well

i know a tiny birdie,
and my baby talks alot,
a beak that tastes of brandy,
oh those words come down so hot,
the cage is halfway broken,
and almost falling from the hook,
i know my tiny birdie isn't reading from the book,
the one i wrote like madness on a pitiful white night,
as i screamed and drooled on everyone who resembled sudden fight,
licking powdered sugar off the beak,
winter fowl shan't lose the war,
of pricks and prose and shattered bowls that will always be no more.

Brown Eyes

are the loneliest eyes in the sea
of heads and holes and everything but the ghost
brown eyes,
should never be misread, for every other color is a lie
hold thy brown eyed mixture in your large, bony twigs
stemming from the chain of your hands to your chest
and never mouth your part ever again.
brown eyes,
can't stumble on a rock, flicking you from the ground
they blend with the dirt...ah ha, with the dirt
promise me and your brown eyed friend
that you should never give to the others again.
meet me, brown eye to brown eye, over the juice and the gin.
meet me, brown eye, over jamba juice and gin.

Sun so Hot

Twenty Three thoughts have made their way between each lobe.

First, oh dear, i fear the big one in the sky. The gods all hide in the sun on days like today. There is no spit left on your tongue and people have shed their eyelids. Snakes fall from your forehead. And yet i fear the night much better!

Second, fallen from the corner of ceiling and the west wall comes two webs, or what is left of them. I'm close to calling it but one web, but my instincts show me otherwise. There are marks on my skin from two distinct sets of teeth.

Third, she's in a bad mood, but i won't fall for it.

Fourth, "bathroom, bathroom, you're in the bathroom. bathroom, bathroom...." Luxor, Las Vegas. ---bathroom music across from Blue Man Theatre

Five, things like these things you've got me thinking make me frightfully sick. Dread and excitement give me such similar mini-strokes. My head has gone, all thanks to you.

Six, i love some for their brilliance, i love some for their charm, i love with a heart sans concern nor any harm. I am positively positively positively. Word.

Seven, summers like this one remind me of one particular summer. It was stronger than most, everyday hot, hot, hot. Not unlike the title of a pretty average, if not below average, Cure song.

Eight, i've sent a memorandum especially to you. Check under your desk, maybe hidden in the folders, set your coffee to the side, for i am trying to do something here. You're the best thing since nineteen eighty three.

Nine, want to know of what i speak? Then call my house, call me now. I won't answer, see, i screen my calls. Keep your secrets away from the press.

Ten, bottles of beer on the wall, ten bottles of beers had a great fall, ten bottles of beer, ten bottles of beer, couldn't be put back together again.

Eleven, my thoughts are running fancier.

Twelve, imagine backed up sewage pulsing toward your face as you lean your tummy against the marble. imagine having toothpaste falling from the bottom of your chin, imagine how much time it will take you to brush your teeth normally again.

Thirteen, i have beautiful friends and even better enemies.

Fourteen, the observation was a faint one and there were many references. There are distinctions between each terrain. Put on your glasses, dear, for you look so luscious. I'd bring you some tea if i knew it could put you in the mood like it once did.

Fifteen, pardon the mundanity. I dwell in a well of confusion. My name rhymes with many words that meet my acquaintance quite frankly. I have not dabbled in the voodoo root. My supply has been dry for weeks. I miss you with it. bell, well, resell, dwell, fell, quell, zifandel, pretell, retell.......

Sixteen, i'd be happier if i could ensure success.

Seventeen, theres something in the sky that breathes over my shoulder. I believe there are secrets in her breath. If i smothered it, it would keep me centered between a well-behaved ocean line.

Eighteen, you are officially invited onto my aircraft carrier. Stand by the pier and i will call for you. Use your nautical wisdom, and leave the plastic on land.

Nineteen, i am making 2 lists of everything we need to know. One i keep under my bed between the pages of literature and the other i have written in our secret code. You will be notified when the appropriate organs have failed. Keep your eyeglass prescriptions current. There will be little time for interpretations.

Twenty, give me the statistics of love. I have pending proofs in the work. More input.

Twenty one, i am oyster girl. Read your books again and i'll read mine. We'll remember at the exact same time. It will be as if we live together again.

Twenty two, i prayed on my knees today. I didn't know who to direct my prayers, so i swallowed them whole.

Twenty three, take me back to the sixties where they held each others in cotton dresses. Everyone looked more like a kid, everyone had an accent, everything seemed a little duller in color, primrose was the solvent of choice. Take me back to when the sea brimmed with energy, and the possibilities still included everything so unbelieveably spacious. I miss you so much. Bring me back to life again or i will seek it elsewhere.

Bologna--The Silliest word since Turin

Remember my theories on Age 23? I was so wrong. I should have looked for the bigger picture and opened my scope onto 26. Maybe it's something about primes. Ps. 26 is not prime, you fucking fool.

Lame

I can't say everything i have to say in 3 minutes. I guess i'll just have to stick with, "sup".

i just want some leonard cohen on the juke, port in my mug, and you on my mind.


i don't feel sad, just reminicent. It's nice to rejoice in these moments due to the lack of permanency in both my mood and life.

my guitar misses the high life, while my mind misses the car ride.

Bring on the flounder, bring on the candle drippings.

This is the season of orange blossoms. Aren't they sympathetic?

Power, power, power, there lies all the power. Yr little babies are missing me. And I miss them.

I'm the proud owner of a second thought. Thank heavens, thank heavens, thank heavens for little girls. Forgive me, i'm tender, not lonely.

Bang on my drums some more, i miss all the noise. I was so young, you were so young, we were so young in one.

If i were to take, i'd mistake for sure. Yes, for you, anything.

Dictionary

yallo--the color of the Walmart circle guy with the zorro mask
juan--preterite tense of win
woof--wannabe dog, canine creature
carnibal--the home of carnies
bollyball--the game of geeky beachers

Yr white little secrets

i remember what you did last summer, last summer, i remember what you did.
i remember what you did last december, last december, i remember what you did.
i remember all yr something specials, something special now.
i remember, i remember what you'd say after hearing these secrets said.
i remember what you did last summer, last summer, i remember what you did.
G5, A5, Em

come here, little secret, little secret safe.

F#5, A#5, G5

PottyMouth

A man walks into a bar. Something about him looks a little racist. You can't really put yr finger on it. He's laughing something loud and you want his box of raisins. See, but the thing is, that you hate raisins, their breads, bagels and slaws. But his manaical chatter makes you want them so bad. You decide to he doesn't deserve those raisins, only peanuts. Your shirt gets caught on a sharp screw which makes you consider slamming yr hand right through it. As you begin to psyche yrself out for some serious hand pain, you begin to laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh. Because Sherin is there and she's pouring the little red box into the man's mouth. At first, only this makes you laugh. It's a funny picture. Though it's not until you come into her range that you can hear her chanting in a deep voice, "i wanna go potty in yr mouth, i said I wanna go potty in yr mouth."


I had just spoken to her in the first time in months, so i guess she was on my mind.

You think you got me there, ay?

Hey, remember that one? I bet someone does, somewhere.

StarSearch

dear sir, there are things you need to know, but you'll never know. Not from me, you won't.
it is a wonderful, yet terrible shame.
dear sir, ideas are fanciful, you should visit sometime,

those walks are beautiful.
Knats in yr nose give you strength.

i'd invite you in, but you'd only contrast. you feed me mealworms.

i flirt with conceit, but only subrosa.

those vertical knees you spoil, why stand, my FF?

Just remember, i knew you first, and it ain't never gonna change.

you mimic the worst in me.