In remission (and love)

Discomfiture

Once you realize you can fake it
There is no discomfiture
A robot where the eyes
Have been if ever there
Were more complacent
Ways to die
I do not know them
Know I made it
Look real nice, expenditure

Eye candy

This cartoon was drawn by a girl named Rachel, now living in Brooklyn but hailing from Minneapolis like me, where she was inspired to mock two of the higher profile dykes in conversation. The character on the right is K Bartlesmann, owner of several coffee shops and venues. The one on the left is Sheila, my former kitchen boss and also friend. I agree with the sentiments of both speakers.




This is my friend Sarah Scotland's dog, Pete.

Murder in the virgin woods

It feels so good to be back in nature. The air smells wonderful, all the evergreen trees, the sunlight ... aaaah such a nice break from the city. Feeling so relaxed I stepped outside to smoke and suddenly someone smashed me over the head with a rock. Ouch! I fell on the pile of rocks next to me, blood gushing out of my head straight into the earth. In my last moments, I thought of all the happiest and saddest moments of my life. Then I saw a light, and I followed it ..... the following pictures illustrate my journey into the afterlife, from which I write, and reflect upon worldy injustice and acts of revenge not completed, also the beauty of babies, kittens, bodies of water, and foliage and stark branches against the bright noon sky, and certain colorful insects. Life is a wonderful thing, do not waste one lovely moment. (The pictures also illustrate a pretty little tree, milkweed, and the cabin that my family and I are currently staying in for the holiday).

El mono bonito que se llama "Lujuria"

Lujuria called out to me at Pathmark and so I took his picture. I felt extremely attracted to those eyes with their long lashes. I wanted to make monkey business but he turned out to be hard hearted as well as having that type of physique. Anyway ...... last night practice was great, despite exhaustion. We wrote three new songs. I wrote almost complete lyrics on the spot, it feels really easy at this point. I guess my lifetime of creative writing classes and verbal vomit exercises are good for something now, well everything that has tortured me is turning out to be an asset, and I feel happy. Well, not "happy". But a certain desperate terror has faded ..... thank god because everyone deserves a break from misery now and then. Well maybe some people don't deserve a break, but I do hehe. I'm sure sometime soon it will all become not good enough and I'll go back to crying in public, but for now I'm just enjoying the relative satisfaction.

I'm leaving for MN today on a 730 flight out of LGA. Going to see my whole family on my dad's side, including ninety five year old Grandma, cousin dying of brain tumor, aunt with diabetes, many cousins I don't know very well at all, a pregnant one, one with a new baby .... I'm so glad I have my camera so I can be antisocial in a helpful way. I wish I had a xanax or something for my flight. I do have War and Peace. Happy Dead Turkey Day. Oh - not turkey below. Just shoes. I work for a shoe company in real life.

4th Ave., 9th St. - F

Eskimobot

For some reason the last post wouldn't let me add any more pictures. Hopefully it will work here.

Well my band left after the show because they were tired and it was midnight or so ... but I stayed. I had to since I carried nothing, did not commute from queens or ride in the car, and never do, I just show up, and I took a nap in the early evening and showed up for a drink or two before the show - so I stayed for the other band. And they were hot!!!! Totally hot 80's dance party. The little guitar girl with the Hello Kitty gear was a minnie meow shredder and the funk coming from below with the gothic manly-girl on bass ... and super cute drummer .... well basically I didn't mind at all. Except they made me have hair insecurity. Who's hair is better, mine or his?? Everyone says mine but they might just be saying that. Anyway I was dancing and I took a couple pictures too. Here's a picture of Eskimobot:

VOLVER

I'm not in the mood to write something substantial about any movie or book, but I give Volver many, many stars! I've been doing a thousand searches for the lyrics to the song Volver - which means, to return - but cannot find them. If you can find them, post them below please. This movie is about mothers .... if you are obsessed with motherhood, or your own mother, in addition to homoerotic, incestual subtexts .... and bad fathers being murdered .... ghosts ..... oh, see it for yourself.

On the way home I got confused and switched trains at Jay instead of Hoyt, so I ended up going back into Manhattan, and didn't realize it for several stops because I was caught up in this (hot) dyke and her newborn puppy. She took it from a homeless man, who shouldn't have had it anyway because it was only a few weeks old, blind, and should not have been AWAY FROM HIS MOTHER. So I took pictures.




When I realized I was going the wrong way at East Broadway, I jumped out and grabbed a car going back to Brooklyn. On the way of course I started thinking about my mother and our relationship. I will see her in a few days. She has lost over eighty pounds. I was thinking in the car how much of my anger toward her might be toward her eating. Not that it's wrong to eat, but it's a sign of preoccupation elsewhere. In Volver, I related to Penelope's character because I also disconnected so early and have stayed away ... but my dad wasn't fucking me (oops sorry gave that away) but there were some things I suppose made me angry and I'm a sensitive little creature. But in the movie they did so much hugging and kissing (also a Spanish thing) but I started thinking about my mom's big bosom hug, which I get to feel a couple times a year - and then I start crying and can't explain why - but it will be different this year, hugging a (not quite) skinny mom. We all want back into the womb, don't we. It was nice in there. Volver!

Adieu to things I loved

So on Saturday afternoon my roomate and I did major chores. I agreed to throw away ONE of two of the comfy chairs that I stole from the smoking room in my college dorm and I've had them for around six years now. I felt so bad leaving her on the curb. How good she was to me! It makes me sick, throwing things away. I also threw out a pair of tennishoes that lost their cushioning and as I dumped old spaghetti on top of them in the garbage can I really wanted to cry. I loved those shoes so much. I can't even explain it. And now they'll spend eternity next to spaghetti and junk mail. It's wrong. They deserved better. So did my chair, which the neighborhood kids broke - they split the bamboo arm - within an hour of relocation. They abused it. Why? And that's only the first painful indignity my chair will suffer on her long journey to the junkyard and mass grave and eventual return to dust.

Subido por las luces

It seems I am getting a little better at these night city shots. Or maybe I got lucky here, but at least they didn't come out as an electric blur .... I know it has something to do with speed of the camera, but how to alter that? Still learning. These shots are taken off a penthouse roof on 23rd street between 2nd and 3rd avenue.

La Virgen

This is a painting of la virgen. I painted la virgen a few years ago and it is one of two paintings that I finished, total. The second one was better, it was of me with cuts all over my body next to a burning cross and in front of a window. It wasn't good, but it had feeling and I gave it to a girl that I made out with a few times but there wasn't much there and neither of us pursued so I tried to get the painting back but she threw it away so I took her off my friendster and never spoke with her again. Bye bye.

OH - the garbage man slay case closed. The killer got life, by jury. I can't stop thinking about it though, the two year old girl trying to nurse her dead mother for twenty four hours, both of them covered in blood. I can't stop thinking about it. A picture keeps coming in to my mind. And I imagine Tatiana trying to cuddle with me if she found me dead. An event so traumatic will not be remembered by the child but it has to cause severe damage. (I don't remember whatever events caused my personality to deform and split, but it's definitely split into a few pieces, and I know some things happened, although nothing like what this little baby endured.) Why do things this sad and wrong have to happen? And why are there so many black male killers? Don't get mad, I'm just saying what I see in the paper every day. I know there are white killers too, serial, mass, sadistic, etc - but lately it's one black face after another in the newspaper. And black girls turning up in suitcases and garbage bags. Is it just hate - self hate and also directed outwards, especially toward women? Especially toward their own women, but as the Worthington case and the St Guillen case show, and also the high school girl picked up on the west side highway, it's something with hating white women too. It's hard to deal with the idea of abandoned bodies. That's why I would never kill myself, because you can't control what happens to your body afterward, if they mangle it or how it bleeds or rots and turns gross and ugly. They always put them in garbage bags or suitcases. Like the girl was just a piece of trash. They try to defile the girls as much as possible. They hate them. The garbage man left Worthington on the floor and her little girl .... it's basically the worst thing I've read all year.

And curse the day somebody ruined you

Why do the night time shots of the train or the skyline never turn out?? This one is just train tracks. I took it while waiting with Bill last night. Last night we played through the setlist twice and toward the end Mark was being fussy and Bill said shut the fuck up and play the song. He said it twice and I looked at the floor, but they've known each other a long time so it's their business. On the way home Bill said he got acupuncture too and I showed him my foot pictures. He said, "Those are your legs?!" I felt weird.

Love = Evol

This is on my bathroom wall. I painted it.

Maren

I LOVE MAREN

cripple foot

They told me yesterday that it is good luck to get acupuncture on your birthday. I really hope so! What if this year could be better than all the rest?



The first picture is just a close up of the problem. Can you see the scar tissue? It is usually much darker but my new shoes have provided a lot of relief, and I think the needles are helping too. Sometimes the bump turns purple, which is blood under there. It is a very hard bump and pinches the nerves against the foot bones.

This next picture is a closeup of the right (painful) foot which has how many needles stuck into it? A lot. Basically my spleen line is being provided with long due relief. During this session I laid on my stomach with my feet propped up on pillows. The needles going in around the bump were VERY SHARP. Then the whole thing turns warm and you keep breathing deeply.














And the last picture features my disgusting amazon legs! Aren't they gross?? hahahah my roomate can't stand it. But no one is fucking me, so why should I shave? I'll shave when or if I meet someone. You can see one of my stains too, the birthmark on my left leg. All my stains are on the spleen line. Isn't that weird?

Eternity

O defile me

I am no longer depressed at all hahahahaha

Practice last night was great and as I noted in yesterday's comment section, I have arranged for my band to play on this coming Monday night. Between securing that engagement and getting my new camera, everything in my world is great and my birthday is extremely happy. Except for one thing that I still want that is taking so much longer than expected, but I wanted to be alone

We finished the new song last night. We just cut out section B and C and elaborated on section A and that's it. It's way better! Also we wrote a new song. I sing: sacrosanctity / O defile me. I have to look up and make sure sacrosanctity is even a word though. Mark is supposed to send it to me



And lastly, here's a picture of my psycho pet.

dehydrated

i've been thinking maybe i should go back on antidepressants. i don't really want to. but this is pretty lame. crying all the time. tomorrow is my birthday! it just makes my eyes fill up with tears and the gagging feeling. toward other people, nothing but hostility. but i can't stop crying. it's the only thing that releases it. too bad it makes my eye makeup run. it's not that i don't think anyone loves me but that i can't feel it, i can only feel crying. i was just reading about another boy who was killed by his ma. she smothered him. his dad found him. can you imagine your mom turning on you like that? the one person that is supposed to love you and take care of you. and they hate you.



you're just a little person like a little animal and you have no idea what's going on but you come into the world knowing how to love people and expecting it back. and they just hate you instead.

and they deny you what you need to survive and you have to learn how to survive without it. but how can they hate you? and then how to stop hating yourself for still loving them or just hating yourself period.

Dolor del todo

I am so tired today I keep forgetting to breathe. There are a number of physical problems affecting me actually. The first one is fatigue and it is my own fault. I'm at the front desk. When I try to smile at people it feels hard to move my face.

Friday night (I am so mad at myself) I had fun plans and had even double booked myself then I got home from work and felt so tired that I couldn't go back out and I stood everyone up, missed the Services show, and did it all to "be kind to myself" because I realized I was pmsing, but then look how I toss myself like a rag into the new week.

I don't have anything to say. I am basically okay with everything. I don't need sex anymore I have conquored my drive. I also don't need love because my heart has turned into macaroni and cheese. So eat it bitch, I don't care.

worried

this is a really dumb thing to worry about but i am extremely worried that my band will never have another show! if there was one lined up, then i could worry about it being bad. but there isn't one lined up. things keep falling through. and why? maybe it's a good thing because by the time it happens i will be able to bring more people ....maybe.....ew it's all so uncertain! we didn't have practice on friday so i feel like it's in my imagination that i'm even in a band. and i just got off myspace and saw all the things other people are doing and some of them haven't been together that long either. i am an awkward performer i think because i am nervous and self conscious but if i had a little practice?? but i can't talk to people. i'm not going to fucking send off myspace emails. i'm not walking into somewhere with a crappy rehearsal recording and try to be cute. i'm not going to harrass people i consider casual friends. i don't know what to do! i'm writing about it here instead!

actually i'm at my friend's house and we're heading to williamsburg to do some backup vocals for a boy we knew from school .... and i'm smoking and i shouldn't be because it definitely ruins my voice and makes me way more depressed and paranoid than i am naturally.

but i'm not paranoid. i just know what everyone is thinking. about me.

:O

sacrosanct on 5th avenue

This blog is now officially anonymous. There is no longer a link on my friendster profile, so no one can call me desperate for attention. Me? Desperate? Please motherfuckers. Never in a million years. I am perfectly fine with existing in a vacuum, in outer space, like a fetus floating out to the sun, sublimation, perfection.

It's so lovely outside (autumn) and ugly inside (the office and my soul) ..... this city and adulthood in general are way overrated. I never wanted to live in concrete like this! I love trees so much.

And I love Tatiana, my little lioness. She slept with me again last night. She's beyond beautiful, that face! But I think she's evil and antisocial now because I was gone too much and left her alone during the formative months and years. I think she is just starting to forgive me though. Also because I didn't pick her up or touch her enough. I just let her be, the same way I want someone to just let me be. But there was a period of time when she refused to come out of my teeny tiny room (in harlem) and lived in there all alone just sleeping. I think it affected her brain. She's uptight now, and doesn't play. But if you saw her! Absolutely the most gorgeous feline ever, and the looks she gives me, so intense, those eyes!

Many layers: hiding a rat

It's a rat, hiding in the deepest part, gnawing and squeaking. I feel so sad, I keep thinking of the saddest things, then I feel angry too. While Malu was leaving comments to me, I felt a little less alone, but that was an illusion. I am totally alone with the rat and I have nothing else.

Plus my stupid fucking birthday is coming. I don't want to turn 28. I don't want anything besides to shove a knife into the heart of God so he really knows how I feel. Oh wait, supposedly he learned that on the cross. But I wonder if he also felt some pleasure in being a martyr.

record

I got paid today. Which is good because my checking account had negative nine hundred and fifty dollars in it, and it wasn't even because of paying rent.

(is herpes hot?)

I'm going to see Kayo Dot tonight! I'm horrible at making and keeping plans, I never remember anything ..... but now I'm so excited! This band is mind blowing ...... I gotta buy some weed, fast! There's so much to do now! They are playing the Knitting Factory, an early show thank God.

Deterioration leads to nothing

In a few hours my mood has turned from mildly hopefully and peaceful in all ways to feeling the urge to cry really hard. I'm sorry, I know it passes, but I'm lonely! Really that's the crux of it.

I think God's favorite mood is the ironic one. Oh, it's funny, let's watch her go nuts! God teases me. I hate God and God clearly hates me too and thinks my pain is a joke. Fuck you God!

looking dirty and smelling clean

Sometimes on the subway I start looking around at All the jeans. I think about our way of dressing at this point in history, how it's all about jeans jeans jeans, and how some are so right and some are so wrong and it depends on so many factors, including price and body type and the cut and the material, the color, etc.