Wednesday, August 20, 2008

9th & M

yes-its true that, as previously stated, life sometimes feels like a brown paper grocery sack...

And it is also true that sometimes life feels like a moment on a swing when you reach weightlessness...

when you are not moving backward or forward... you are a color and you are floating.. it feels a little like flying, a little like space travel, a little like bubbles or clouds...
like a feather..

it's especially magical if its 70 something degrees out and your ipod just instinctively shuffled to the worlds most perfect song.. and no one else is there so you can sing loudly and slide off key in the second verse and get goosebumps as you belt the chorus..

and the sky is still reflecting blue even though the sun set hours ago.. and the grass, mixed with the blueish black hue of the sky, is a deeper green.. and it reminds you of the green in the hills from that morning when you drove with your windows down..

and your fingers loosen their grip on the chain links of the swing as you reach the highest point.. because they trust that feeling.. they believe you are weightless..

and you are not cars or telephones or clean getaways or lonesome fuel for fire or stacks or ohmygodwhatever etc...

you are a feather.

feel infinite. feel alive. feel summer.

(i relish it)

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Monday, August 11, 2008

ready for the floor...

sometimes life is like a brown paper grocery sack...
and sometimes you are walking out to your car, and the bottom of that sack gives out.. and everything tumbles on down to the floor while you do your best impression of a juggler and try to catch it all with your pinkies and toesies... (gravity always wins).

In these cases it is pretty much impossible to save face. You cant really NOT look like a dummy when you just spilled all your freshly purchased groceries all over the asphalt..

And then you might feel some other things besides dumb (like angry..angry at yourself for not being more careful or angry because you asked that bagger-person, specifically to please to double bag so that it wouldn't happen to you again.. or .. or maybe exasperated that you have to clean it all up etc etc.)

but most of all, you just feel like a foolish.. like a dummy... embarrassed..

at those times in life, its best when people you really really like are around.. because, while they simpathize with your 'spilled milk' situation.. they cant help but start laughing really hard at you.. and pretty soon you are laughing really hard..then you are on the ground amoung the spilled groceries, its not like it didnt happen, but it's not so bad because you needed a really good laugh.. and then you don't mind so much that you look like a dummy because, hey, it's really funny.. and you are laughing and its nice to be alive..

and you know? broken bags.. spilling.. looking like a dummy.. laughing. that is exactly what makes life interesting..

what would life be if grocery bags didn't rip open every now and then?

Thursday, August 7, 2008

intuition/ impulsion.

I don't just buy things on an impulse very often. Especially not expensive things like air plane tickets. But yesterday I just decided that it had been much too long sense i had...
It's high time I had a little of this:
AND this!!!!!
and perhaps a little of this
and that

I think Britannie said it best, 'there are not enough exclaimation points in the world right now!!'

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

make believe/maple leaves...

tonite i revisited some tom robbins.. its been about a year...
(i know i have mentioned it before.. but its worth re-mentioning..)

"who knows how to make love stay?
1.Tell love you are going to Junior's Deli on Flatbush Avenue in Brooklyn to pick up a cheesecake and if love stays it can have half. It will stay.
2. tell love you want a momento of it and obtain a lock of its hair. Burn the hair in a dime-store incense burner with yin/yang symbols on three sides. Face southwest. Talk fast over the burning hair in a convincingly exotic language. Remove the ashes of the burnt hair and use them to pain a mustache on your face. Find love. Tell it you are someone new. It will stay.
3. Wake love up in the middle of the night. Tell it the world is on fire. Dash to the bedroom window and pee out of it. Casually return to bed and asure love that everything is going to be alright. Fall asleep. Love will be there in the morning."

And I also started making this tonight:

(its a collage based on a poem by cummings.. "the spring has been exquisite and the summer may be beautiful... and believe (do not believe) they'll be a time when even these leaves will crawl expensively away" it needs more work..)


But you know what is really awesome??
this:

lunch with those ladies everyday please.

Monday, August 4, 2008

insomnia etc.

jeff tweedy says that when he forgets how to talk he sings..

when i foget how to sleep i write sad droopy poems..

here's the latest.. composed saturday night.. when i was not sleeping..

Em-
tea?
Just a cup,
maybe??
fill it up
(said she)
fill it up
for me
because I'm
Em-
pty
like a cup
you see?
like a factory
and I cant sleep,
you see?
and everyone far away
from me
oh fill it up
please
so needlessly
needy
could the problem be
that I am just
em
tea
I'll pour a cup
for me-
empty
em
ily

(i feel like i shouldn't post nerdy crap like this that i write. but i sent the poem to my friend james today and he had a lot of things to say about it.. one of the things he said was that he thought a lot of people would relate somehow.. so i decided to post it...)

And, also, I slept like a baby last night. so yay!

Saturday, August 2, 2008

terrible horrible no good very bad day

that is what i had yesterday... mostly it was just work that was awful.. 8 hours of hell and the only thing that got me through it were the 80's mix Cd's that John made me.. i think "space age love song" by flock of seagulls literally kept me from murdering someone yesterday..

when i have bad days, i fell how far away everyone is..

so, i wrapped myself up in my 'i'm a pepper' pj's, made myself a cup of hot chocolate- with hazelnut and Cinnamon, of course, and i let M. Ward sing me lullaby's in bed for about an hour till i fell asleep..

i think... that i am a loser, but i guess i don't mind.

Also, this is my new favorite thing in the whole world..
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