Sunday, April 13, 2008
An old poem.
I.
Today in the bathroom mirror I traced
the outlines of your furrowed visage and (my bleared eyes
brought us back to the living room on Three Kingsboro Avenue:
I, stoned, in that burlap chair.
You, still, on the couch)
the scar that would have been
if your neck had healed.
II.
Today felt like autumn.
Nose ruddy from north winds blowing through Avenue C:
I thought of those silly incantations in October afternoons,
urging drafts to emulsify—vivify
your relics.
III.
Today I read Walt Whitman, in honor of you.
Ruminations of his springs as my falls.
His lilacs, my begonias and grub bugs.
Graybeard's empyrean sky, my garden
where three-quarters of your ashes lie.
[October 2nd, 2003 Notation]
This October marks the beginning of the eighth stanza of my changed life. I am sure I will not 'cease my song for thee' as long as memory persists.
_________________________________________
Erica L. Dow 2003 5:29 AM
Friday, April 11, 2008
in loco parentis.
a colleague of mine has had a pretty rocky year. most are unsympathetic, and by far, the students are the ones who are the most ruthless. why is it, that we as teachers, can be so accommodating and forgiving of all of our students' problems and attitudes, but when we have a "bad" day we are no longer categorized as humans, but as monsters?
how is it that a student can yell at me for something that they did wrong, and not understand the legitimate consequences of his or her own poorly deliberated (and often unhealthy) decisions? why is that my seniors (my favorites), the most mature, the ones closest to plunging into the real world of it all, can be so hurtful?
Monday, April 07, 2008
a funeral.
recently, i read a blog by a talented individual about her experience disposing the artistic extensions of who she was, to embrace the person she is today. her blog made me think about what part of the old me I have been holding on to, even in the latter part of this new decade of age. i thought about whether or not i would have the cojones to rid myself of the only artistic expression that i was once (and maybe still am?) good at, but i’ve come to realize that i could never part with any of my writings, as much of it deals with my own grief regarding my dead father.
i’ve been thinking long and hard about what it is that i would like to bury, in hopes that a new me can grow from the dead weight of the old me. i decided that i would like to bury my silence and submissive attitude.
it has been far too easy for me to be quiet for all these years, silent in my own company, and painfully so in the presence of others. it is far to easy to say nothing even when i do have something to say. and,i do have something to say; i always have something to say. so today i will bury this part of the old me and embrace what it is that is now a part of the new me.
i want to thank this person (and her blog) for sharing her own experience and insight, as it has greatly helped me in discovering that we are all works in progress and that sometimes it is okay to just let go.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
new goal:
honesty, remix:
i will forever remain misunderstood if i allow my voice to be muted for the sake of other peoples' voiced opinions and or feelings. i will never be heard (or read, in this case), if i let my words fall to the knotted pit of my anxious stomach, only to be digested internally with the occasional flare up of heartacheburn. further, my new goal is not intended for the sole purpose of stirring shit up, or to exercise my right to be a bitch. its purpose is to get everything inside of me, out.
Monday, March 24, 2008
an unhealthy relationship with a blog.
my not-so-secret obsession is lurking profiles and reading blogs. this has been a voyeuristic habit of mine since the early days of livejournal. i don’t know what it is about blogs, but i’m hooked beyond a normal degree. i think i enjoy gaining insight to other’s lives, not to fulfill some empty space of dissatisfaction in my own, but perhaps to gauge my day to day experiences and emotions against another’s and, in totality, gauge my own sanity, or the times there is a lack thereof.
i’m obsessed with a local blogger whose life is an absolute fucking train wreck, and i cannot, for the life me, stop reading this person’s blog (and this person is not a "friend" in the myspace sense of the word, or even in the in-real-life sense of the word). i dislike this person with many fibers of my being, so why is it that i am glued to his or her blog? do i enjoy watching his or her plagued life unfold before my eyes? no, because it is beyond anti-climatic. do i wish ill will on he or she? no, because he or she has enough of his or her own to deal with. does this person make me feel secure within my own sanity? a little. i’ll tell you why i’m hooked: i’ve never been witness to such a disaster of a person in my entire life (textually and literally). never have i had such an experience to meet and read about a person who has so little regard for other people--his or her behavior is despicable, dehumanizing, and shamefully ostentatious.
what angers me the most is that the limits of this person’s lack of tact go well beyond personal interactions on a day to day basis--it is broadcast through online social networking sites. and i may be a hypocrite, as i stand a lesson or two in keeping private matters private, but i pride my self in being honest, careful, and somewhat cryptic in my textual deliveries of my somewhat suppressed emotional states.
this person’s blog perpetuates the severe dislike i already had for this person, so why do i willingly and faithfully read this blog on a day to day basis? because it reinforces not only what is wrong with this world, but makes me appreciate all the rights.
Monday, February 25, 2008
i don’t fit in.
and i probably never will. i know this. and, i am perfectly okay with this.
Monday, January 28, 2008
winter thaw.
a few things, which i would like to type out for my future self's sake:
one. i love the warmth and smell of my dingy dog so much it makes my heart melt.
two. i wrote a poem last week, whilst the students were taking part two of the english regents examination.
three. i hate my job.
four. i'm going to attempt writing a book. it will most likely turn out to be a novella. it has everything to do with item number three, but it will be partially fictionalized.
five. scary mansion sounds like cat power. and cat power's new album sucks.
six. i hate your fucking surveys, so stop, please.
seven. i like to make lists.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Sometimes I question my profession...
Current mood: calm.
Currently listening : I’m Sorry That Sometimes I’m Mean
By: Kimya Dawson
Release date: 02 December, 2003
..and what i love.
When I grow up I'd like to be a(n):
Radio jockey.
Veterinarian.
Writer.
Cosmetologist.
Social worker.
Massage therapist.
Actor (again).
As for hobbies, I'd like to:
Volunteer for a local pet rescue.
Be a seller on Ebay.
Learn to play guitar from Jacob.
Construct a four square team or kickball team (high school coach).
Knit.
Monday, October 15, 2007
if you’re racist... that scares me.
if you're sexist, xenophobic, and or homophobic, that scares me too.
scares me into being angry at you. and, not liking you. don't be an idiot.
just sayin'.
Friday, October 12, 2007
black francis and the christmas tree shop.
what the hell happened to black francis? captain pasty is THE WORST song ever.
and, i think the christmas tree shop should be burnt down. ALL of them.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
a deer, i hit.
i was very prepared for a long and eventful day. i woke up at ten of five this morning. i coffee'd, i showered, i packed for the gym, i packed for parent-teacher night. i left at around 6:30 this morning. i and my automobile traveled down state street, through the light that intersects 30A. i drove past hussman, and i drove past the forrester's club. and i almost made it to the sign that denotes the change of speed limit from forty miles per hour to fifty-five miles per hour. but, i did not make it, which could have been my saving grace.
a pack of my favorite large-sized furry friends--a mother, a father, and child--traveled across the paved way through the agragian panorama of mayfield. i did not hit the brakes hard, as the road was slick from a damp night. but in this instance brakes would not have stopped me from hitting the stalwart hind-end of one of the deers. all i saw, in my periphery, was the deer flip, as the other two ran off to the sanctity of the woods.
i just remember shaking uncontrollably, but i was not hurt (thankfully).
this experience made me think about why people hunt. it seems so foolish. i feared that the deer i hit would die (a driver of the local transportation system of gloversville, who witnessed the entire scene told me the hit deer ran off). i felt an overwhelming sensation of grief thinking about the more-than-likely-fatally-injured animal and thought: why would anyone purposely kill for sport? it seems so asinine and cruel.
this entry was sort of tangential. for those of you that are worried about me, i'm fine, though my nerves are shot.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Hulk Hogan and Bruce Springsteen.
Current mood: tired
Category: Life
Currently listening : Zeitgeist
By: Smashing Pumpkins
Release date: 10 July, 2007
i feel horribly guilty even admitting that when i was much, much younger i yearned for a famous dad. my famous dream dads were: hulk hogan and bruce springsteen. hulk hogan, back in the day seemed so outrageous, yet down to earth. i have recently divorced my dream of having hogan as a dad--his show "hogan knows best" dashed my childhood dreams; he has has become too hollywood and oily (and tan!) and extremely outrageous, to a sickening degree.
bruce, on the other hand, is still unbelievably amazing.
but, neither can compare to the father i lost over twelve years ago.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Working.
Well, I went to work on Monday and promised myself I would return Tuesday and Wednesday. I broke my promise to myself. And here I sit wishing I went in. What prevented me? Sound sleep with dreams of neck biting zombies, sexing snakes, and mentally perverse murderers.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
september twenty-fourth.
[insert picture of laproscopy]
Saturday, July 28, 2007
one of the worst feelings.
at least for me, is to be slighted by loved ones when simple acts of consideration can make all the difference in one's day.
i'm just menstrual, i suppose.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
new doctor.
i finally got a new doctor, as my last appointment with the previous doctor was a train wreck. bad news is that i pretty much have endometriosis. and my cyst is still hanging around. i have an appointment with the new doctor on the first of august. wish me luck.
i missed the lemonheads last saturday, and a joyce carol oates reading at skidmore on the eleventh.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
blogs.
i read them and now i have gone back to reading livejournals too. thank goodness i will be working on kevin's project soon.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Future plans, summer plans.
So I am opting not to teach summer school, as I told my friend Natasha I believe the abuse that summer school represents could be likened to the torture one would receive in the Malebolge of Dante's Inferno. I hope I get to work the days I put in for at the school, as the pay is hella and it is at my leisure and can be done from home (I love the Internet).
So on this list of summer plans slash ideas:
1. A trip to Animal Land (shut up, I want to pet the llamas).
2. THE MOTHER-EFFIN GREAT ESCAPE AND SPLASH WATER KINGDOM.
3. Field hockey summer league in Gloversville or maybe a field hockey team in Albany (which I might add: the first scrimmage is this Sunday at 6:30 at UAlbany, on the turf).
4. Gym membership or some place that offers yoga. I really want to do Bikram yoga on the regular, but I am unaware of where I should actually go.
5. An all ladies trip to a spa in Saratoga.
6. Lotsa horse-ball and bowling.
7. Fixing my Peugeot inner-tube and blazing trails on two wheels throughout the Kingdom of Fulton County.
6. A summer bartending gig (maybe Saratoga). I did bartend in SoHo for two years whilst living in the city. I am no Tom Cruise from Cocktail, but I am fast and can make a innovative cocktail in a minute.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
On seeing a specialist.
All of my doctor experiences in Gloversville, aside from my pediatric care, have been pitiful and confusing: antiquated tools of the trade, as in ultrasound machines from '84 and filing systems on computers older than I (Commodore); cramped dirty rooms; and megalomaniacal local doctors.
What it is inside me is not known. I have a fourth appointment in a month regarding the size of my (it belongs to me; I have taken ownership of this undesirable abnormal character) ovarian cyst, with free flowing browned blood swimming inside. My last appointment the doctor had a "hypothetical" conversation with me regarding endometriosis and my "potential" issues with infertility. All of which was grounded in speculation, as hard evidence in the form of testing does not exist. His solution to my health issue was to sit and wait and agonize for one more month.
I should see a specialist outside of this area.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
on being tired.
it seems these days that if i tell someone i'm tired, the retort i generally receive is "wait 'til you have kids." hi, i have kids. fifty-six of them to be exact. and last year i had eighty seven, and the year before that, over one hundred and five. the way things are going, anatomically speaking, i might not be able to have kids, so one: it bothers me when people say this because of my recent issues with health; and two: it is rude to assume that i don't know the meaning of tired considering my life, personal, and professional interests have everything to do with children and young adults.
Saturday, May 05, 2007
I’m just a quiet person.
I know some of you think I have been quiet and maybe sort of "off" lately. Maybe you think I don't like you because I don't have a lot to say—this is wrong. I'm just a quiet person.
I've never felt comfortable talking around people; I have never felt comfortable with having friends. For more than ten years I have been on my own, for the most part. In high school I had a small group of close friends, but watched those relationships either fade or disintegrate for one reason or another (college, time, distance damage, arguments, et cetera). In college I had one solid friend, but after graduation our relationship became diluted by our post-college interests and careers. My early years in New York City and Boston were clouded with getting to know these new places—and I wasn't in these places long enough to establish any friendships. The last few years in New York yielded one solid friendship with a colleague and since my relocation to upstate we have lost touch too.
I have Jacob and his wonderful family, Tyler, and my family and I am satisfied with these things—and I don't mind sharing the wealth because each are amazing and intoxicating and their energy needs to be shared with others. But, I'm not ready to share too much of myself with anyone outside these things just yet. I'm nervously shy, complicated (who isn't), emotional, and quietly contemplative; I don't want you to confuse these aspects of my personality by equating me with a bitch or think that I am judging you.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Memento Mori: Loki
Yesterday, almost home, from my tiring hour commute from work, my mother called to discuss and weep, the decision she and Ron made to put Loki down, as he was very ill during the night. She told me he was euthanized at 10:30 in the morning and they had plans to bury his body (as opposed to shipping him off to an Albany crematorium) just beyond the small tree farm, slightly before the wood of their ever-expansive acreage.
I won't spare the details. My mother woke in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and returned to bed. It is customary for Loki to follow anyone he feels the need to protect, even if the distance is a few feet. Both returned to sleep. But Ron woke in the middle of the night startled by a strange smell and woke my mother and they both found Loki lying in a pool of his own tar-like feces. They took him outside so he could eliminate more without embarrassment, cleaned him up, and fixed him up a resting spot in the garage. I doubt if any of them slept.
In the morning my brother brought up his mini-van to transport Loki to the veterinarian. I was told Loki had a large tumor in his stomach and a tumor on his spleen; his blood work was far from copacetic.
We got Loki shortly after my father died. He was the best thing for us at the time, as we no longer could mope about when there was a puppy to look after. He was good for all of us; a good companion that forced us to stop grieving once in a while. He was an integral part of my post-pubescent existence. He was my furry four-legged protector and constant shadow.
After eleven years it is natural for a family to move from one stage of life to other stages. I went to college, moved about the Northeast, settled in New York City for more than three years before moving back Upstate to be closer to my family and to Jacob. My mother found love again, remarried, and relocated a few towns over. My brother has been preserving my childhood memory of "home," found love, and is a loving father of two and a soon-to-be husband. With all the changes in our family dynamic, Loki was our constant—the tangible furry glue of a once three-member family who had lost their fourth. Yesterday I felt like my memories of what used to be, what once was, were gone; that without Loki to remind me of my sixteen year old self and grueling depressive years to follow I would not know what to turn to when memories are needed.
But memories never really expire—the sound of my father's voice faded long ago, but this does not mean I don't remember his words. I will never have that midnight black shadow of Loki to follow me from room to room, but I will never forget him and what he represents in the grander scale of things. But, I will surely miss him; he was a good boy.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
ge commercials make me laugh.
they sure do.
i have two doctor's appointments in the next two weeks to clarify the length of my life i'm sure.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
ovarian cyst.
this might be too much information about ms. dow than you would care to know. know this: i have a cyst on one of my ovaries. but, i really think my ovary has sprouted arms and is punching me, repeatedly, in the gut. or it is dancing, drunk, wildly, around my fallopian tube.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Air.
In the very early mornings and in the early evenings I enjoy spending more time in the yard with Tyler. It is because of the air—crisp and intoxicating.
I remember living off of Houston and between Avenue C and D. Waking to the smells of exhaust filtering through my south bound window and walking home from bartending in the wee hours of the morning, disgusted more by the smell of dirty air than the foul sticky smell of dried alcohol and cigarette smoke that clung to my clothes and hair. On Twenty-ninth Street, just off of Fourth Avenue, the same dingy highway-like air made me want to die as my hand griped my inhaler.
Another reason I am happy about my move: air.
Friday, March 23, 2007
also, i like to read blogs.
even if i don't know you. i would read livejournals all day, but now it's myspace blogs. if you have a tracker i'm not stalking you. i just like blogs.
----------
a dream about dying. i had today. and i woke up all tears.
the sequence of the dream images leading up to the "death scene" is confusing, but i ended up in a vestibule of a house, perhaps a rustic cabin. i was accompanied by a host, and at this point it escapes me whether or not this host was human or animal. i'm thinking it was a human, as he (not she) spoke to me in standard american english. i was also surrounded by a grey and white kitten and what i remember to be a rabbit who told me he (yes, he) rode bulls. i do believe the kitten represents the non-verbal communication of love as i was asked to mimic its actions, which of course consisted of nuzzling against me, the host, and the rabbit, whilst purring. the rabbit, who happened to also speak standard american english, told me the hardest challenges he endured in his lifetime was riding bulls. i think this is linked, metaphorically, to the challenges we all have in life (juxtaposed, of course, to what i will now refer to as the "kitten" experience we all long for when faced with tough challenges). the rabbit suggested to me that another good outlet to the feeling associated with being challenged (frustration) is to dance it off. i remember in my dream i closed my eyes and wriggled to a the beat of deep sadness i seem to hold in my heart in my conscious life.
after the lectures, the dancing, and the nuzzling (it happened in this order) my host was about to tell me it was "time to go." i told him i was aware of what was happening (although i am positive he, nor the others, were trying to be tricksy) , even though i did not want to go through with it.
he opened the door to the "outside" world, which of course offered its light to the darkness of the vestibule. i remember i asked my host if it was okay to be scared. he replied that it was perfectly okay to be scared, but assured me there was nothing to be afraid of. i asked him if i would have just as many friends on the other side, to which he replied "of course. you will have as many friends as you need."
before i walked through the threshold, i woke up (crying).
Sunday, March 18, 2007
two excellent movies.
i recommend the following:
brick
and
half nelson
Monday, March 12, 2007
built by wendy.
wendy mullin i love your clothes, but why so pricey? design a line for target.
my wallet hates you wendy.
---------
the tale of the winter piglet. i cannot stop eating. even when i am not hungry i still eat. i dream of ice cream while i eat cookies. of bagels when i eat muffins. food is all i want. all. the. time.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
target and clothes.
when i moved to new york city, four years ago, i discovered the glory of target. i became an avid disciple--namely, for clothes. to this day i still get most of my clothes from target. i am extremely tickled by the the design for all program they have implemented. i have loved all the go designers, save for maybe two (the past winter season selection was disgusting).
i am so happy that proenza schouler is designing affordable (super cheap prices, but great quality) clothes for target. my only issue with them is the season they have chosen to design for. all the vibrant colors make me want to die (save for the purple pencil skirt)--i only wished they designed for the fall season. their fall clothing is amazing (proenza schouler fall 2005)
Saturday, February 10, 2007
mark strand poem
"Coming To This"
We have done what we wanted.
We have discarded dreams, preferring the heavy industry
of each other, and we have welcomed grief
and called ruin the impossible habit to break.
And now we are here.
The dinner is ready and we cannot eat.
The meat sits in the white lake of its dish.
The wine waits.
Coming to this
has its rewards: nothing is promised, nothing is taken away.
We have no heart or saving grace,
no place to go, no reason to remain.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
dog babies and homework.
i was on the couch last night. jacob was doing his homework and i said:
"tyler would be the worst mommy. she'd probably eat her kids."
tyler will never have babies, unless by miracle, which made me sort of sad. maybe she would be a good mother? but, i'm still convinced she'd mouth atleast one of them.
----------
i'm so hungry i could eat ten biggy iggy ice cream sandwiches from stewart's.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Naps.
I haven't been taking them as much as my body yearns for them.
I take them when I am tired.
I take them when I am depressed because I'd rather sleep than tap into hatred.
I take them when I long for company when Jacob is not around. Tyler is warm and snores like Jacob too.
---------
On another note altogether, why do people seem sketchy? Maybe I am paranoid.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
also, a poem rather, an excerpt:
what are words, i want to ask you, what
is clarity and why do words keep burning
a century later, though the earth
weighs so much?
from "a talk with friedrich nietzsche" by adam zagajewski.
--------
antigone. i'm going to watch this movie in the absence of my other half. then i will gouge my eyes out in reverence.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
My Chelsea students...
I just want to say these things: I miss you all (even the ones who drove me nuts--you know who you are) and I am proud of you all. Class of 2008, you are the best group of young adults, ever.
Friday, December 29, 2006
shaking hands with a genius.
i went to applebee's and had kettle (tavern) chips smothered with cheese and bacon. i wish i invented this dish.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
my heart attack.
salmon wrapped in bacon topped with cheese. best. dinner. ever.
atleast today ended on a good note. this weekend was abysmal.
--------
for mary... your profile makes my computer freeze:
[insert absent image of dancing robot]
Saturday, December 09, 2006
friend.
you know, it has been about seven years since i had a good best friend. i had natasha, but after college we grew apart and now she lives in scotland with her husband and dog. i became close with nikki in brooklyn as we lived together, briefly, and co-taught together for two years at chelsea. and here i am, in this bleak town and i feel pretty lonely. maybe that is why i liked living in new york: i was always too busy to be lonely. here i have more time on my hands than i can actually deal with and i find myself sleeping a good chunk of it away because i'm so blah (minus the time spent with jacob).
Saturday, December 02, 2006
esouh.
i want to puke all over myself.
Monday, November 27, 2006
crap carp prac parc arcp
Last night I zoned out during the shittiest movie ever, "The DaVinci Code," and for moments I truly thought I was a clairvoyant, as I seemed to see clearly into my doomy future where I only wore sweatpants, ate noodles with butter, and lamented to Jacob that shampoo and soap should be separate showering entities and or luxuries.
This house shit has my brain on the fritz and I wonder if we can really do this without going stark-raving loonie. I think to myself: "I have to do this; I am twenty seven. I have no babies, I cannot rent forever..I am an adult, right?"
What if I had stayed in Brooklyn? What would it have been like? The traveling would tear us apart. Now that I am here will our obsessive-compulsive, fixative habits make us want to bounce off each other like walking padded rooms, or will we just stick together like glue and have our insecurities co-mingle in an emotional tick-oriented bliss?
I can speculate about what it would have been like to have stayed in Brooklyn, but what I have learned is that love is worth more than a twelve-grand pay cut and feeling severely uncomfortable, socially, in this insular town--it is transcendent.
Friday, November 24, 2006
I should have stayed in Brooklyn.
Sometimes I think this.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Slang.
One thing I miss about being in the city is slang. Someone used the phrase dead-ass in class the other day (in an awkward manner no less--it sounded less like one huffy fast deadass and more like dead-pause-pause-pause-asssssss) and I felt like telling him that phrase is so beat these days. But how would he know? What is hip here was hip more than two years ago down there. I don't even want to get into music or the style of clothes.
Yes, I used the word hip. Shut up.
Friday, October 27, 2006
On Walking Dogs.
Current mood: annoyed
Currently listening: Mule Variations
By: Tom Waits
Release date: 27 April, 1999
Walking dogs should be done, always, with leashes. Aside from my roommates' dog that happens to be the most docile and oblivious dog I know to date, all dogs should be walked with a leash. I will even say that any dog walker walking a dog without a leash is full-fledged moron. My case in point: yesterday afternoon, after arriving at my apartment to pick up some things for a night of grading at JV's while he was in class, I witnessed a small dog (a size-challenged breed I personally abhor) being attacked by to unleashed dogs. If it wasn't bad enough watching a small dog being mauled by some feral-looking, hick-bred dog, compound this image with a wire-hanger abortion scream coming from a young girl still holding onto the leash of her small dog. Then to add to the chaotic cacophony of hell-hound barks and anti-orgasmic screams, picture the potential hick-breeder, but most certainly hick-owner, of these ravenous, feral-looking dogs yelling out commands and kicking about like a Nazi war solider, all of which the dogs did not respond to. I mean, I will admit it: I hate small dogs. There is no room in our Darwinist society for small dogs, but they do exist, sadly, and they should have at least the minimal right to be walked around in a safe environment by owners who should wear no fear against unleashed animals. There is also no room in our Darwinist society for morons, especially those specific types of morons who own dogs and choose not to walk them on leashes. Sadly, these morons exist and I have no solution to remedy the error of their moronic ways, but I sure hope someone does and perhaps their fate will be in the form of some Hades-like Malebolge that awaits them in after-life.
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
Sunday, January 4, 2009
seven.
Wednesday, March 10th, 2004
Subject: birds of a feather.
Time: 1:23 am.
are happy together.
Sunday, March 7th, 2004
Subject: thirty-two hours.
Time: 11:39 pm.
fucking amazing.
Wednesday, March 3rd, 2004
Subject: i ate half your antioxidant and i'm sorry.
Time: 12:40 am.
and the man on the street said:
"there are two things wrong with clark wallabees, one is that when it rains they get soaked..."
and i said:
"and secondly, they're too expensive."
i think you are amazing. you know who you are. please don't ever run away. things have changed. and they would be different without you.
Sunday, February 29th, 2004
Subject: new found fondness for.
Time: 11:06 pm.
five frozen goldfish treats (eating four, and sharing one).
removing fat.
charades.
the ministry of alcohol.
the staten island ferry.
Saturday, February 28th, 2004
Subject: i'm not moving from this place.
Time: 10:16 pm.
it has been a very long time in having a person, place, or thing to call my own. i've always just been on the periphery of sociality, environment, and personal thought. but, i have this city. it is my home. and i don't want to leave. it has offered to me everything that i've always wanted. it is non-discriminatory of my tastes. it offers me plenty of street lights that are capable of burning out while walking under them. it makes me feel less lonely.
on another note, i met some really great people yesterday.
Friday, February 27th, 2004
Subject: i'm going to tell you a secret.
Time: 11:07 am.
i sang usher outloud in duane reade.
i've been there, done it, humped around.
after all that - this is what i found
nobody wants to be alone
if you're touched by the words in this song
then baby...
HAHAHA KEKEKEKEKEKE HAHAHAHA.
i really do like that song in some twisted way.
(((((
Thursday, February 26th, 2004
Subject: i have been busy.
Time: 1:22 pm.
really great things have been happening.
some (five, i play by the rules!) simple things.
five.
peanut butter.
four.
street light lamp posts either flicking from off to on or on to off when i walk under them.
three.
good eyebrow tweezing session.
two.
being responsible for laughter.
one.
books for less than a quarter.
Wednesday, February 25th, 2004
Subject: i just woke up typos.
Time: 10:29 am.
there was a lot of nudity in my dreams.
i was, partially. and i was in my old room on kingsboro. curtain-less windows. whatever i was doing wasn't p.g. and then i noticed i was being spied upon and i did a stop drop and roll to the safety of my dirty pink itchy bedroom carpeted floor.
following this sequence, as i remember, i found myself in my driveway on kingsboro with dave chapelle. my grandfather and his wench wife were dragging around this little old man who happened to be crazy, without family, aimless, and perverted. connie wanted to pawn him off on dave and i and i remember telling her to shove off. as the story goes, connie had met him one night, at the grocery, or at church, somewhere without my grandfather. thinking the little old man had money she did her thing with him and he became attached and, well, soon following, crazy. i remember connie trying to give my mother and i some whack story (i remember calling her soon as i told connie to get a grip so we could compare connie lies). i remember that i referred to connie as a cunt and dave was surprised at my language. in this dream we were dating. or maybe it was just a sexual thing. i remember him touching my back and i leaning in on his suede leather coat.
and then we, dave and i, are in this strange cafeteria hall train station. somewhat like a lodge next to some tracks. the room was separated, men from women, by the alignment of the tables. jewish men, from jewish woman. facing the tracks i see the women on the left, the men on the right. the women's cafeteria tables ran parallel to the tracks. the men's tables were formated in angles. dave was naked, and also whiter in skin shade, during this segment. he was doing penis tricks for the ladies and taunting the men with racial jokes.
i left the room several times only to find myself in dave's kitchen (he lived in this lodge?) for water. the filtering station in his brita was broken and could only hold about a half of a cup of water at a time without the station sinking and disrupting its purpose--to filter water. in the dream i drank a lot of water. i remember his computer was in the kitchen and i was checking up on his instant messenger slash my space sort of text vehicle. checking who was on his list, if i was listed. and i remember the machine freezing. i remember the paranoia i felt when it would freeze. i remember it freezing and fixing itself one time and when i turned back to the screen to continue lurking dave's files he had a picture of adam on his buddy list. the picture with the bat hat. and i wondered how they knew each other.
i woke when a bald young man in a tight white t-shirt (who happened to be sitting at the head of one of the female tables) asked a question regarding a train that happened to steam by, and somewhere in his vernacular her used the word nig.
Subject: a polite decline. from two resources.
Time: 2:17 am.
i'm so tired. my eyes are itchy.
and now upon an e-mail, an academic e-mail, i am sad.
Monday, February 23rd, 2004
Subject: find this. and send it. and i will love you forever.
Time: 2:07 pm.
Mood: ran three miles, want to die.
half baked™ carb karma ice cream pints.
Sunday, February 22nd, 2004
Time: 10:00 pm.
my life is whirling by, faster and more dizzying than a dervish. and at age twenty-four i’m not exactly where i’d like to be, but i feel like i’m heading in the right direction. my fear exists, though, in this complacency that has consumed my life for the last three years: settling into something where i don’t feel like i belong. rooting myself, comfortably, in the idea that my life will eventually propel itself forward feverishly and successfully some time very soon, and that the only thing i need to hold truth in is time. patience. but aren’t i brimful of patience. has it not been stewing for years. will something break. what does it take. am i going about it wrong. these statements swirl in my head usually for a good hour before i fall asleep. and my teeth grind rhythmically with the cerebral elliptical orbiting of these dissatisfying thoughts.
one thing i’m certain of, which scares the knickers off of me, is that i’m afraid of opportunism. and i don’t know why.
also, i really need to get some headshots done. no fucking around erica. get it done this month. and please, for the love of big baby jesus erica, do some sit ups.
Subject: coffee, beer, and a lorna doone.
Time: 2:32 am.
plosives in my lateralization.
it took two hours to get home. now listen, i have a lot of love in this little heart, but i hate the four train.
i almost passed out in the intersection of second and second. but i am resilient, because i eat a lot of rubber bands.
tonight was perfect.
Saturday, February 21st, 2004
Subject: i find it hard to tell you, i find it hard to take.
Time: 9:27 am.
if it is going to rain all day you will find me in my bed.
Friday, February 20th, 2004
Subject: bring your toothbrush.
Time: 8:57 pm.
i've heard from one and i'm moving on.
also, i have a bartending interview in park slope tomorrow. pray that i do not come across as slattern in posture and articulation.
paul. it's now a question of trust and truth. and though i miss the work i do not miss the abuse of my kindness; and the the clumps of hair that would find themselves in shower drains and in the sweaty palms of my hands; and the dirty crack spoons.
this space is slowly filling up.
you should be here. i have a seat for you on my couch, next to me.
Time: 8:01 am.
i was slightly inebriated last night. i came home to an empty house. ate some cookies. and tried to take a late night nap on a very cat-haired couch. but my body was irresolute. and i thought about someone for several hours. maybe this is why i had a hard time sleeping.
my mind just sort of whirls with everything that is going on in my life. and i seem to get more heady when intoxicated. which really clarifies nothing. but it gives me another (altered) perspective on things.
my thoughts in the last few days:
i thought about what it would be like to hit someone, well really what it would be like to set someone's chin on fire (in a mugging scenario).
i thought about how reserved i really am. i need something to shake it up. and i think i know how.
i thought a lot about pinning someone up against the wall, just to smooch.
i thought about whether or not i should have someone edit my play.
Thursday, February 19th, 2004
Time: 2:02 pm.
i went for a walk around midnight last night. to get some air. i trapped myself in my apartment for most of the day. it was something i needed to do. i didn't get too far. as far as key food for half and half and fake-sugar chocolate ice cream. upon walking home i caught myself talking to myself out loud. i don't know how many feet, yards, or blocks i traveled muttering to myself. this is a normal thing for me. but usually it stays in my head, it never projects itself into something audible. though there has been times where i've mouthed my inner monologue, the sounds of only exhaling and the sticky snappy smacking of my lips when they are over-saturated.
i am forcing myself not to clean the apartment, which is proving to be a difficult task at the moment. i need to let things go once in awhile, and i need to forget about order and what other people think of my order or the lack there of.
i like who i am. and i should be happy with that. then why is it i feel so sad.
Wednesday, February 18th, 2004
Subject: wtf.
Time: 10:05 pm.
i hate you life of agony for not playing any fucking shows in your own neighborhood.
jerks.
keith (((((
Time: 4:46 pm.
Music: houston street.
i now want the nike air force one sneakers in black with the gum bottom, gold writing, and the velcro ankle thing. style number 306351- 001, to be more specific.
that is all.
Tuesday, February 17th, 2004
Subject: i don't think we are friends.
Time: 2:54 pm.
Music: npr.
no, not you, or you, yeah you, but you never check this thing, no matter.
i dislike when my momentum falls to the wayside. i'll blame cross-walk lights and drivers that turn corners without yielding to pedestrians.
Monday, February 16th, 2004
Subject: these fucks.
Time: 12:15 pm.
Mood: /\/\/\/\/\.
Music: built to spill.
ransacked my bodega of my ice cream. i waited four years for things to finally come around, and no-carbohydrate diet zealots are usurping from me the only thing i truly love--chocolate fucking ice cream.
Subject: birds of a feather.
Time: 1:23 am.
are happy together.
Sunday, March 7th, 2004
Subject: thirty-two hours.
Time: 11:39 pm.
fucking amazing.
Wednesday, March 3rd, 2004
Subject: i ate half your antioxidant and i'm sorry.
Time: 12:40 am.
and the man on the street said:
"there are two things wrong with clark wallabees, one is that when it rains they get soaked..."
and i said:
"and secondly, they're too expensive."
i think you are amazing. you know who you are. please don't ever run away. things have changed. and they would be different without you.
Sunday, February 29th, 2004
Subject: new found fondness for.
Time: 11:06 pm.
five frozen goldfish treats (eating four, and sharing one).
removing fat.
charades.
the ministry of alcohol.
the staten island ferry.
Saturday, February 28th, 2004
Subject: i'm not moving from this place.
Time: 10:16 pm.
it has been a very long time in having a person, place, or thing to call my own. i've always just been on the periphery of sociality, environment, and personal thought. but, i have this city. it is my home. and i don't want to leave. it has offered to me everything that i've always wanted. it is non-discriminatory of my tastes. it offers me plenty of street lights that are capable of burning out while walking under them. it makes me feel less lonely.
on another note, i met some really great people yesterday.
Friday, February 27th, 2004
Subject: i'm going to tell you a secret.
Time: 11:07 am.
i sang usher outloud in duane reade.
i've been there, done it, humped around.
after all that - this is what i found
nobody wants to be alone
if you're touched by the words in this song
then baby...
HAHAHA KEKEKEKEKEKE HAHAHAHA.
i really do like that song in some twisted way.
(((((
Thursday, February 26th, 2004
Subject: i have been busy.
Time: 1:22 pm.
really great things have been happening.
some (five, i play by the rules!) simple things.
five.
peanut butter.
four.
street light lamp posts either flicking from off to on or on to off when i walk under them.
three.
good eyebrow tweezing session.
two.
being responsible for laughter.
one.
books for less than a quarter.
Wednesday, February 25th, 2004
Subject: i just woke up typos.
Time: 10:29 am.
there was a lot of nudity in my dreams.
i was, partially. and i was in my old room on kingsboro. curtain-less windows. whatever i was doing wasn't p.g. and then i noticed i was being spied upon and i did a stop drop and roll to the safety of my dirty pink itchy bedroom carpeted floor.
following this sequence, as i remember, i found myself in my driveway on kingsboro with dave chapelle. my grandfather and his wench wife were dragging around this little old man who happened to be crazy, without family, aimless, and perverted. connie wanted to pawn him off on dave and i and i remember telling her to shove off. as the story goes, connie had met him one night, at the grocery, or at church, somewhere without my grandfather. thinking the little old man had money she did her thing with him and he became attached and, well, soon following, crazy. i remember connie trying to give my mother and i some whack story (i remember calling her soon as i told connie to get a grip so we could compare connie lies). i remember that i referred to connie as a cunt and dave was surprised at my language. in this dream we were dating. or maybe it was just a sexual thing. i remember him touching my back and i leaning in on his suede leather coat.
and then we, dave and i, are in this strange cafeteria hall train station. somewhat like a lodge next to some tracks. the room was separated, men from women, by the alignment of the tables. jewish men, from jewish woman. facing the tracks i see the women on the left, the men on the right. the women's cafeteria tables ran parallel to the tracks. the men's tables were formated in angles. dave was naked, and also whiter in skin shade, during this segment. he was doing penis tricks for the ladies and taunting the men with racial jokes.
i left the room several times only to find myself in dave's kitchen (he lived in this lodge?) for water. the filtering station in his brita was broken and could only hold about a half of a cup of water at a time without the station sinking and disrupting its purpose--to filter water. in the dream i drank a lot of water. i remember his computer was in the kitchen and i was checking up on his instant messenger slash my space sort of text vehicle. checking who was on his list, if i was listed. and i remember the machine freezing. i remember the paranoia i felt when it would freeze. i remember it freezing and fixing itself one time and when i turned back to the screen to continue lurking dave's files he had a picture of adam on his buddy list. the picture with the bat hat. and i wondered how they knew each other.
i woke when a bald young man in a tight white t-shirt (who happened to be sitting at the head of one of the female tables) asked a question regarding a train that happened to steam by, and somewhere in his vernacular her used the word nig.
Subject: a polite decline. from two resources.
Time: 2:17 am.
i'm so tired. my eyes are itchy.
and now upon an e-mail, an academic e-mail, i am sad.
Monday, February 23rd, 2004
Subject: find this. and send it. and i will love you forever.
Time: 2:07 pm.
Mood: ran three miles, want to die.
half baked™ carb karma ice cream pints.
Sunday, February 22nd, 2004
Time: 10:00 pm.
my life is whirling by, faster and more dizzying than a dervish. and at age twenty-four i’m not exactly where i’d like to be, but i feel like i’m heading in the right direction. my fear exists, though, in this complacency that has consumed my life for the last three years: settling into something where i don’t feel like i belong. rooting myself, comfortably, in the idea that my life will eventually propel itself forward feverishly and successfully some time very soon, and that the only thing i need to hold truth in is time. patience. but aren’t i brimful of patience. has it not been stewing for years. will something break. what does it take. am i going about it wrong. these statements swirl in my head usually for a good hour before i fall asleep. and my teeth grind rhythmically with the cerebral elliptical orbiting of these dissatisfying thoughts.
one thing i’m certain of, which scares the knickers off of me, is that i’m afraid of opportunism. and i don’t know why.
also, i really need to get some headshots done. no fucking around erica. get it done this month. and please, for the love of big baby jesus erica, do some sit ups.
Subject: coffee, beer, and a lorna doone.
Time: 2:32 am.
plosives in my lateralization.
it took two hours to get home. now listen, i have a lot of love in this little heart, but i hate the four train.
i almost passed out in the intersection of second and second. but i am resilient, because i eat a lot of rubber bands.
tonight was perfect.
Saturday, February 21st, 2004
Subject: i find it hard to tell you, i find it hard to take.
Time: 9:27 am.
if it is going to rain all day you will find me in my bed.
Friday, February 20th, 2004
Subject: bring your toothbrush.
Time: 8:57 pm.
i've heard from one and i'm moving on.
also, i have a bartending interview in park slope tomorrow. pray that i do not come across as slattern in posture and articulation.
paul. it's now a question of trust and truth. and though i miss the work i do not miss the abuse of my kindness; and the the clumps of hair that would find themselves in shower drains and in the sweaty palms of my hands; and the dirty crack spoons.
this space is slowly filling up.
you should be here. i have a seat for you on my couch, next to me.
Time: 8:01 am.
i was slightly inebriated last night. i came home to an empty house. ate some cookies. and tried to take a late night nap on a very cat-haired couch. but my body was irresolute. and i thought about someone for several hours. maybe this is why i had a hard time sleeping.
my mind just sort of whirls with everything that is going on in my life. and i seem to get more heady when intoxicated. which really clarifies nothing. but it gives me another (altered) perspective on things.
my thoughts in the last few days:
i thought about what it would be like to hit someone, well really what it would be like to set someone's chin on fire (in a mugging scenario).
i thought about how reserved i really am. i need something to shake it up. and i think i know how.
i thought a lot about pinning someone up against the wall, just to smooch.
i thought about whether or not i should have someone edit my play.
Thursday, February 19th, 2004
Time: 2:02 pm.
i went for a walk around midnight last night. to get some air. i trapped myself in my apartment for most of the day. it was something i needed to do. i didn't get too far. as far as key food for half and half and fake-sugar chocolate ice cream. upon walking home i caught myself talking to myself out loud. i don't know how many feet, yards, or blocks i traveled muttering to myself. this is a normal thing for me. but usually it stays in my head, it never projects itself into something audible. though there has been times where i've mouthed my inner monologue, the sounds of only exhaling and the sticky snappy smacking of my lips when they are over-saturated.
i am forcing myself not to clean the apartment, which is proving to be a difficult task at the moment. i need to let things go once in awhile, and i need to forget about order and what other people think of my order or the lack there of.
i like who i am. and i should be happy with that. then why is it i feel so sad.
Wednesday, February 18th, 2004
Subject: wtf.
Time: 10:05 pm.
i hate you life of agony for not playing any fucking shows in your own neighborhood.
jerks.
keith (((((
Time: 4:46 pm.
Music: houston street.
i now want the nike air force one sneakers in black with the gum bottom, gold writing, and the velcro ankle thing. style number 306351- 001, to be more specific.
that is all.
Tuesday, February 17th, 2004
Subject: i don't think we are friends.
Time: 2:54 pm.
Music: npr.
no, not you, or you, yeah you, but you never check this thing, no matter.
i dislike when my momentum falls to the wayside. i'll blame cross-walk lights and drivers that turn corners without yielding to pedestrians.
Monday, February 16th, 2004
Subject: these fucks.
Time: 12:15 pm.
Mood: /\/\/\/\/\.
Music: built to spill.
ransacked my bodega of my ice cream. i waited four years for things to finally come around, and no-carbohydrate diet zealots are usurping from me the only thing i truly love--chocolate fucking ice cream.
five.
Tuesday, January 20th, 2004
Subject: this is how i feel sometimes.
Time: 10:11 am.
like a letter from elizabeth barrett browning to robert browning on march 20th, 1845.
Friday, December 12th, 2003
Time: 11:31 pm.
Eisler on the go, Eisler on the move
Brother is on the vinegar truck and I don't know what I'll do
I don't know what I'll do, I don't know what I'll do
Eisler's on the come and go and I don't know what I'll do
Eisler on the farm, Eisler on the town
Sister in the tickly bush and I don't know what I'll do
Eisler on the boat, Eisler on the ship
Daddy on the henhouse roof and I don't know what I'll do
Eisler in the jailoe, Eisler back at home,
Rankin scratch his head and cry and I don't know what I'll do
Eisler him write music, Eisler him teach school,
Truman him don't play so good and I don't know what I'll do
Saturday, November 29th, 2003
Subject: also.
Time: 8:27 pm.
well everytime that i come home nobody wants to let me be. it seems that all the friends i got just got to come interrogate me. well, i appreciate your feelings and i don't want to pass you by, but i don't ask you about your business, don't ask me about mine.
Subject: backroads.
Time: 8:23 pm.
black ice and snow drifts. oh my.
Friday, November 28th, 2003
Subject: songs i wouldn't mind making out to, a short list:
Time: 7:12 pm.
people talkin', lucinda williams
the scientist, coldplay
hell is around the corner, tricky
fire, bruce springsteen
Time: 4:02 pm.
I drove from Tribes Hill to Gloversville. The car pitched softly with the dramatic folds in the road. And Tom Petty filtered through the speakers. I was tempted to pull the car over on the side of the road to take a picture of the mountains, the protruding power poles, and the looming gray rain clouds in the distance (that seemed to be draped, acutely, over my hometown). It was one of those moments. Completely bitter sweet. That picture, if I had had my camera, would have captured the backdrop to that space in my heart where love and depression dance.
I have often wondered why I ever left this place. Today I found the answer. Home is disintegrating. And it’s very possible that the people who reside here are falling ill, based on the pragmatism that they are a product of their environment, and those who escape have a better chance of survival.
I have changed too. And where is home.
Friday, October 31st, 2003
Subject: silly.
Time: 10:53 am.
really. people care too much about money.
Thursday, October 23rd, 2003
Subject: my life.
Time: 11:38 am.
is like the movie groundhog day.
Thursday, October 16th, 2003
Time: 10:58 am.
There is absence, there is lack,
there are wolves here
abound.
You will miss me,
when I turn
around.
Friday, October 10th, 2003
Subject: i'd be a good mom.
Time: 5:18 pm.
sayin'.
Saturday, October 4th, 2003
Subject: round face.
Time: 7:32 pm.
often times i don't like it. but then i think about people like ingrid bergman.
Friday, October 3rd, 2003
Time: 11:09 am.
i had a dream that a fast moving talking dog murdered (a talking) winston, my very obese house cat, with jutting chunks of tree bark and different sized stainless steel knives. in my dream i took vengeance upon that scrappy mutt with similar knives lying around. the sight of winston with a piece of wood gouged into his soft abdomen jolted me out of bed at five twenty three this morning.
Thursday, October 2nd, 2003
Subject: hangovers...
Time: 12:35 pm.
hanging on.
Monday, September 29th, 2003
Subject: we have a leak in our kitchen ceiling.
Time: 10:33 am.
like this week isn't going to be interesting enough.
Saturday, September 27th, 2003
Subject: sunday, october fifth.
Time: 7:42 pm.
eight years. it feels like yesterday sometimes.
Thursday, September 25th, 2003
Subject: THIS BELONGS TO THEO. I WISH IT BELONGED TO ME.
Time: 2:29 pm.
theo writes:
***Before reading the following entry, please let it be known, that this was crazy and totally unexpected and random. You will probably think less of me and think i am an asshole, a prick, a total dick and probably deserve a first class ticket to h-e-double hockey sticks. but if you were there, and witnessed this and more importantly felt their wrath, youd know where i was coming from.
this could have been an episode straight out of the "twilight zone". i like to call this entry "the twlight zone that wasnt: the popcorn, the android and the fucking yak"
it all started around 6 o clock. kevin was the first one attacked. 30 minutes later and 2 missed sales, he felt their wrath. his store was left in shambles and kevin was left holding his "boys" as he was punched squarely in the nuts.
seth was then up next. seth felt the wrath at 6:45. he got it the easiest tho. he was up high and out of the reach of the small ones. lucky fucker.
7:25 the phone rings. its seth.
"theo....some people are coming for you. be on the lookout."
"who?"
"youll see. be careful and good luck, thats all i got to say"
::dial tone::
so now im awake and scoping out the scene. then i see them. all 3 of them. leaving a path of terror behind them. people stopping and looking. the little one screeches like a pack of banshees.
finally they arrive.
theres 3 of them. a scarecrow of a woman, and her two devil spawn.
they approach me like a flock of locusts on middle america crop farm. the mother pushes one kid in a stroller the other one, a boy age 4, follows in tow.
"i need these in pink" she spouts out at the mouth. we look for what she wants and before i know it, all hell breaks loose. jr starts jumping up and down, wailing his arms like hes on fire. all of a sudden, the lil fucker starts yelling and screaming. his tiny little body produced this sound.....it was like chewbacca was getting anal raped by a pack of angry anal raping goats. it was like a yak mating call....just the wierdest fuckin sound, i have ever ever ever heard a kid make. much less any other human.
the girl remained in her chair. she had this look in her eye, like she knew your deepest darkest secrets. i looked at her and winked, hoping to get her to change facial expressions. it worked. she went from devilish grin to all out balls to wall pissed off. she started to scream and yell and throw her popcorn all over and at me. the mother was acting like this was a common occurance. she browsed, asked questions, tried things on, and was a total ghost to her spawn. the son was doing the yak mating call as he ran laps around my counter. the lil girl, who was bored throwing popcorn at me, decided to go for a stroll. she stands up in her stroller, and tries to climb out.
THUD!! her small but fat body crashes to the floor. head first. i ran to her aid...she layed there, laughing like a mad woman. this is when it got creepy and on some twlight zone shit.
she stands up and moves her hair and i notice a plug and wire running from under her shirt to the back of her head. rca-jack style. it was one of the most bizarre things i have ever seen. so now im kinda creeped out. i mean she fell out of a stroller, flat on her fuckin head, and she laughed. it had no effect on her, but to laugh. the boy is yodeling like a fuckin yak in heat and the mom is totally oblivious to this all. so the boy comes up to me, and tells me "i like blue". and i notice, THAT SAME WIRE/RCA-JACK CONNECTION running from the back of his head down his shirt. WHAT THE FUCK?!! what is this? it wasnt like lil patches like when you get tests done at the dr's office, to monitor brain waves or heart rate. it was like an actual plug, stuck in their heads. like a fuckin vcr type plug in THE BACK OF THEIR HEADS!!!! NO LIE! after the left, i called seth and the first thing he said was "DID YOU SEE THOSE WIRES AND SHIT IN THEIR HEADS?"
so after a good 45 minutes of popcorn being thrown at me, the scarecrow mom with vampire teeth, lil girl snotty nose , and the android-yak hybrid boy, making his chewbacca gettin anal raped mating calls, they leave with out buying anything.
but with a promise to come back friday night.
i know its all mean and shit to make fun of little kids. im sure he was making those noises cause hes probably got some rare disease or something and his sister probably has it too. they probably arent half human half android half yak people, made in some dudes basement. and here i am making fun of them, and shook cause they gave me the fuckin heebee jeebies, but you know what, THATS LIFE YOU CREEPY ASS ANDROID YAK PEOPLE. LEAVE ME ALONE AND STOP YOUR MATING CALLS. ALSO STOP PUNCHING PEOPLE IN THE NUTS.
they were also mean, and fucking bad ass little kids, scary wires sticking in their heads or not. bad ass kids are bad ass kids. i dont care ofyour a yakhuman half breed, if your ass deserves a spankin then by all means your ass should be thrown over a knee and spanked. androids arent higher up then a good ole fashion ass whuppin.
i just want to know whats up with those wires. if its some rare defect, or the planet is under attack by yak-breeds.
Wednesday, September 24th, 2003
Subject: i forgot what it was like to have muscles.
Time: 3:46 pm.
i just don't want to turn into lou ferrigno.
and
i am sore.
Thursday, September 18th, 2003
Subject: I FEEL STELLAR...
Time: 10:35 am.
SO STELLAR, AND LOVELY AND RAD.
Tuesday, September 16th, 2003
Time: 10:58 am.
i find myself sick today with anguish. i'm in fight or flight mode. this thing with jeff's sister in the hospital and having no clue what the situation is, and being so far away, is making me ill.
Thursday, September 11th, 2003
Time: 2:47 pm.
i went to court today.
Subject: this is how i feel sometimes.
Time: 10:11 am.
like a letter from elizabeth barrett browning to robert browning on march 20th, 1845.
Friday, December 12th, 2003
Time: 11:31 pm.
Eisler on the go, Eisler on the move
Brother is on the vinegar truck and I don't know what I'll do
I don't know what I'll do, I don't know what I'll do
Eisler's on the come and go and I don't know what I'll do
Eisler on the farm, Eisler on the town
Sister in the tickly bush and I don't know what I'll do
Eisler on the boat, Eisler on the ship
Daddy on the henhouse roof and I don't know what I'll do
Eisler in the jailoe, Eisler back at home,
Rankin scratch his head and cry and I don't know what I'll do
Eisler him write music, Eisler him teach school,
Truman him don't play so good and I don't know what I'll do
Saturday, November 29th, 2003
Subject: also.
Time: 8:27 pm.
well everytime that i come home nobody wants to let me be. it seems that all the friends i got just got to come interrogate me. well, i appreciate your feelings and i don't want to pass you by, but i don't ask you about your business, don't ask me about mine.
Subject: backroads.
Time: 8:23 pm.
black ice and snow drifts. oh my.
Friday, November 28th, 2003
Subject: songs i wouldn't mind making out to, a short list:
Time: 7:12 pm.
people talkin', lucinda williams
the scientist, coldplay
hell is around the corner, tricky
fire, bruce springsteen
Time: 4:02 pm.
I drove from Tribes Hill to Gloversville. The car pitched softly with the dramatic folds in the road. And Tom Petty filtered through the speakers. I was tempted to pull the car over on the side of the road to take a picture of the mountains, the protruding power poles, and the looming gray rain clouds in the distance (that seemed to be draped, acutely, over my hometown). It was one of those moments. Completely bitter sweet. That picture, if I had had my camera, would have captured the backdrop to that space in my heart where love and depression dance.
I have often wondered why I ever left this place. Today I found the answer. Home is disintegrating. And it’s very possible that the people who reside here are falling ill, based on the pragmatism that they are a product of their environment, and those who escape have a better chance of survival.
I have changed too. And where is home.
Friday, October 31st, 2003
Subject: silly.
Time: 10:53 am.
really. people care too much about money.
Thursday, October 23rd, 2003
Subject: my life.
Time: 11:38 am.
is like the movie groundhog day.
Thursday, October 16th, 2003
Time: 10:58 am.
There is absence, there is lack,
there are wolves here
abound.
You will miss me,
when I turn
around.
Friday, October 10th, 2003
Subject: i'd be a good mom.
Time: 5:18 pm.
sayin'.
Saturday, October 4th, 2003
Subject: round face.
Time: 7:32 pm.
often times i don't like it. but then i think about people like ingrid bergman.
Friday, October 3rd, 2003
Time: 11:09 am.
i had a dream that a fast moving talking dog murdered (a talking) winston, my very obese house cat, with jutting chunks of tree bark and different sized stainless steel knives. in my dream i took vengeance upon that scrappy mutt with similar knives lying around. the sight of winston with a piece of wood gouged into his soft abdomen jolted me out of bed at five twenty three this morning.
Thursday, October 2nd, 2003
Subject: hangovers...
Time: 12:35 pm.
hanging on.
Monday, September 29th, 2003
Subject: we have a leak in our kitchen ceiling.
Time: 10:33 am.
like this week isn't going to be interesting enough.
Saturday, September 27th, 2003
Subject: sunday, october fifth.
Time: 7:42 pm.
eight years. it feels like yesterday sometimes.
Thursday, September 25th, 2003
Subject: THIS BELONGS TO THEO. I WISH IT BELONGED TO ME.
Time: 2:29 pm.
theo writes:
***Before reading the following entry, please let it be known, that this was crazy and totally unexpected and random. You will probably think less of me and think i am an asshole, a prick, a total dick and probably deserve a first class ticket to h-e-double hockey sticks. but if you were there, and witnessed this and more importantly felt their wrath, youd know where i was coming from.
this could have been an episode straight out of the "twilight zone". i like to call this entry "the twlight zone that wasnt: the popcorn, the android and the fucking yak"
it all started around 6 o clock. kevin was the first one attacked. 30 minutes later and 2 missed sales, he felt their wrath. his store was left in shambles and kevin was left holding his "boys" as he was punched squarely in the nuts.
seth was then up next. seth felt the wrath at 6:45. he got it the easiest tho. he was up high and out of the reach of the small ones. lucky fucker.
7:25 the phone rings. its seth.
"theo....some people are coming for you. be on the lookout."
"who?"
"youll see. be careful and good luck, thats all i got to say"
::dial tone::
so now im awake and scoping out the scene. then i see them. all 3 of them. leaving a path of terror behind them. people stopping and looking. the little one screeches like a pack of banshees.
finally they arrive.
theres 3 of them. a scarecrow of a woman, and her two devil spawn.
they approach me like a flock of locusts on middle america crop farm. the mother pushes one kid in a stroller the other one, a boy age 4, follows in tow.
"i need these in pink" she spouts out at the mouth. we look for what she wants and before i know it, all hell breaks loose. jr starts jumping up and down, wailing his arms like hes on fire. all of a sudden, the lil fucker starts yelling and screaming. his tiny little body produced this sound.....it was like chewbacca was getting anal raped by a pack of angry anal raping goats. it was like a yak mating call....just the wierdest fuckin sound, i have ever ever ever heard a kid make. much less any other human.
the girl remained in her chair. she had this look in her eye, like she knew your deepest darkest secrets. i looked at her and winked, hoping to get her to change facial expressions. it worked. she went from devilish grin to all out balls to wall pissed off. she started to scream and yell and throw her popcorn all over and at me. the mother was acting like this was a common occurance. she browsed, asked questions, tried things on, and was a total ghost to her spawn. the son was doing the yak mating call as he ran laps around my counter. the lil girl, who was bored throwing popcorn at me, decided to go for a stroll. she stands up in her stroller, and tries to climb out.
THUD!! her small but fat body crashes to the floor. head first. i ran to her aid...she layed there, laughing like a mad woman. this is when it got creepy and on some twlight zone shit.
she stands up and moves her hair and i notice a plug and wire running from under her shirt to the back of her head. rca-jack style. it was one of the most bizarre things i have ever seen. so now im kinda creeped out. i mean she fell out of a stroller, flat on her fuckin head, and she laughed. it had no effect on her, but to laugh. the boy is yodeling like a fuckin yak in heat and the mom is totally oblivious to this all. so the boy comes up to me, and tells me "i like blue". and i notice, THAT SAME WIRE/RCA-JACK CONNECTION running from the back of his head down his shirt. WHAT THE FUCK?!! what is this? it wasnt like lil patches like when you get tests done at the dr's office, to monitor brain waves or heart rate. it was like an actual plug, stuck in their heads. like a fuckin vcr type plug in THE BACK OF THEIR HEADS!!!! NO LIE! after the left, i called seth and the first thing he said was "DID YOU SEE THOSE WIRES AND SHIT IN THEIR HEADS?"
so after a good 45 minutes of popcorn being thrown at me, the scarecrow mom with vampire teeth, lil girl snotty nose , and the android-yak hybrid boy, making his chewbacca gettin anal raped mating calls, they leave with out buying anything.
but with a promise to come back friday night.
i know its all mean and shit to make fun of little kids. im sure he was making those noises cause hes probably got some rare disease or something and his sister probably has it too. they probably arent half human half android half yak people, made in some dudes basement. and here i am making fun of them, and shook cause they gave me the fuckin heebee jeebies, but you know what, THATS LIFE YOU CREEPY ASS ANDROID YAK PEOPLE. LEAVE ME ALONE AND STOP YOUR MATING CALLS. ALSO STOP PUNCHING PEOPLE IN THE NUTS.
they were also mean, and fucking bad ass little kids, scary wires sticking in their heads or not. bad ass kids are bad ass kids. i dont care ofyour a yakhuman half breed, if your ass deserves a spankin then by all means your ass should be thrown over a knee and spanked. androids arent higher up then a good ole fashion ass whuppin.
i just want to know whats up with those wires. if its some rare defect, or the planet is under attack by yak-breeds.
Wednesday, September 24th, 2003
Subject: i forgot what it was like to have muscles.
Time: 3:46 pm.
i just don't want to turn into lou ferrigno.
and
i am sore.
Thursday, September 18th, 2003
Subject: I FEEL STELLAR...
Time: 10:35 am.
SO STELLAR, AND LOVELY AND RAD.
Tuesday, September 16th, 2003
Time: 10:58 am.
i find myself sick today with anguish. i'm in fight or flight mode. this thing with jeff's sister in the hospital and having no clue what the situation is, and being so far away, is making me ill.
Thursday, September 11th, 2003
Time: 2:47 pm.
i went to court today.
four.
Wednesday, September 10th, 2003
Time: 1:35 pm.
i have to go to court tomorrow.
Tuesday, September 9th, 2003
Subject: my grammar is broken.
Time: 9:52 am.
and i was leaving vim (the last stop on my sneaker pilgrimage) heading home via fourteenth street, and i ran into emme. she was walking by, talking on her cellular phone. she began to extend her arm in a passing wave way, i, the same. and then we stopped. it wasn't like we just had a lunch date and we left to run our respective errands and happened to fumble upon each other in the passing hour. we stopped because we hadn't seen each other in two years.
she looked better, healthier, still too slim, cropped hair, more fashionable. she filled me in on some details: jess was back in australia. david and mae were still together living in new york (good kids. i'll take it even farther by saying that i fancied david for two weeks after i met him. smart, laid-back, reminds me of a friend i have in washington, but david, as i remember him, wasn't nearly as attractive as the latter. and mae, nice girl, bright, with flaming red hair. now that i think about it, i wonder if anyone has ever questioned their relationship. they look like siblings). emme also informed me that she had grown quite close to alana. that alana was doing well with theatre. that alana was in new york as well and that we should all get together, the three of us, for drinks. and i kept thinking to myself, "who the fuck is alana? am i this senile?" she told me erin was back in brooklyn. she also said she would run into jen from time to time.
i could tell by her eyes, swallowing the stranger in front of her, that i was the one who had not changed. that i was the same. i and my situation hadn't changed. that i looked the same, and that i was still looking for/to the same things: work, theatre, graduate school. maybe i wasn't a stranger after all. like time, from when i was at the atlantic until now, had been on pause.
i have seen four atlantics in a week. what sort of sign is this? eh?
if we could fast-forward my paused life, you would have found me in front of my mirror with a pair of scissors, cutting away at the sameness. i cannot tell you that my hair looks any better, but i can tell you this: i need to change, something, anything, everything, something. and this is going to be my month.
Monday, September 8th, 2003
Subject: "That which we see in the bottom of our glass is most often dregs."
Time: 5:13 pm.
three hours of albee, three amazing plays (well, four if you want to detach box from mao). fifty cents. i love the library.
Thursday, September 4th, 2003
Subject: inanimate and animate.
Time: 4:14 am.
on one hand, i can count all the great loves i've had and lost in these twenty-three years.
Tuesday, September 2nd, 2003
Time: 8:34 pm.
i can't stop thinking about upstate.
Monday, September 1st, 2003
Subject: also, i'm an aunt.
Time: 11:07 pm.
and the baby looks like me.
ironic.
Time: 3:46 pm.
i had weird dreams again. theo you were in it. something to do with american culture, picking a president or a band or artist that represents the united states. i was having a hard time finding new and interesting facts on george washington, so i was going to do a project on dave matthews (i remember navy poster board d stencils). i remember theo found me reebok pumps. in my dream they turned from white to black. there was a small child in the middle of the cafeteria like forum on american culture and he had jello molds of things reminiscent of the stonehenge and brassy upbeat french music was playing in the background.
Sunday, August 31st, 2003
Subject: i'm going to miss danny.
Time: 3:18 pm.
hazy green and grey room, hues of pink. living room party. children running around. the one i remember, blonde hair, bowl hair cut, diapers and a heather grey t-shirt. this song comes on, the one that goes "i've always been this way, never known any other way to feel..." and i look around the room, mouthing the lyrics and notice two other people singing along to the song.
Saturday, August 30th, 2003
Subject: aesthetically...
Time: 4:48 pm.
these cookies look spooky. maybe too many chips. but they taste fucking awesome. and yes, i should not be eating them.
Friday, August 29th, 2003
Subject: how you living biggie smalls.
Time: 9:54 pm.
my former friend joe called me this evening. and i understand why i stopped talking to him a year ago. he's fucking nuts.
Subject: i spent some money last night.
Time: 11:25 am.
and i had a wonderful time.
Thursday, August 28th, 2003
Time: 6:54 pm.
the problem is this: i have not left the house in three days. except to buy half and half.
Wednesday, August 27th, 2003
Time: 10:09 am.
i had a spooky science fiction dream in which three non humans hung from ropes. two of them had their faces cut into cubes. the the third horse like non human escaped by shimmying up the rope and busting through the drop ceiling. then the cats woke me up because they were hungry.
Research shows that most dreams are unpleasant. Violent dreams are relatively common and may be a reflection of the confusion and conflict that the dreamer experiences in daily life. Dreams with violent themes suggest that the dreamer has unconscious negative emotions such as fear, anxiety, and anger. If you are not dealing with these feeling consciously, your dreams are compensating and bringing into awareness the need for honest reflection and emotional balance in daily life.
The horse is a noble and powerful animal. As a dream symbol it can represent a wide range of positive thoughts and ideas about self or others. Depending on the details of the dream, horses can symbolize freedom, power, and sexual energy. At times, they can also be considered messengers, relaying information from the unconscious to the conscious, from the spiritual to the physical. If you are horseback riding it suggests that you are self-assured and feel a sense of control in your daily life. Old dream interpretation books say that the color of the horse is also significant. (Remember that this is based on superstition.) Black horses are said to point out delays; white horses reinforce the positive and transformative aspects of life; gray horses may point to the difficulties in the dreamers current situation; piebald horses are symbolic of confusion; brown horses are associated with mental pursuits; tan horses are said to be symbolic of love and sex.
Occasionally, people will have drams about UFO's and aliens. What these dreams symbolize collectively or individually is difficult to explain and understand. Meeting and talking to aliens may suggest that significant changes are coming into your life and, at the moment, things feel strange and foreign to you. If you dream that you are the alien, it suggests that you may feel detached from some parts of yourself and from others. You may be a stranger in your immediate surroundings and some self-evaluation and familiarization is suggested.
This dream suggests that the dreamer is losing control. In a decapitation there is a dramatic and violent separation of the head from the body. Under normal circumstances the mind controls and directs the body. This dream suggests that the dreamer may be under the control of his bodily drives and may be separated from rational thoughts and feelings. Disassociation may be occurring in regard to some behavior or issue in life. However, this dream may have other meanings. This includes excessive concern about punishment and indicates that there may be severe pressure and anxiety in the dreamer's life.
Going upward, or ascending, is always a positive dream symbol. Whether you are struggling on a difficult rope or ladder or walking up an easy slope, this dream suggests that you are moving in the right direction. If the climb in your dream is extremely difficult, it may be pointing to some obstacles that you need to overcome before reaching your goals. Consider all of the details in your dream, and if you recently completed a difficult task, achieved a goal (e.g. graduating), this dream may be reflective in nature.
The number three always has to do with commitment and as such it should be placed in the I Need column. It stands for mind, body and spirit and is a request to commit yourself, mind body and spirit, to improving yourself in the direction indicated in the dream. The number 3 will often appear in dreams about the heart as people who have closed off their heart to others often lack commitment. A triangle or pyramid also indicate commitment and request the dreamer to meditate on the subject matter of the dream.
Grey colors, meaning: uncommitted, uncertain - ‘grey area’. Mental denial of emotion, depression.
Tuesday, August 26th, 2003
Subject: also.
Time: 7:07 pm.
not working is making me clinically insane.
Subject: on the subject of journaling.
Time: 5:45 pm.
i rant in this thing oftentimes when i am either menstruating or pre-menstrual.
someone buy me a computer. i want to work on my play more.
Time: 3:00 pm.
hi bret.
Sunday, August 24th, 2003
Subject: i want to name my kid:
Time: 3:57 pm.
petit.
middle name, prince.
i might hold onto dow. memoria technica.
Thursday, August 21st, 2003
Time: 10:04 am.
david cross is stalking me.
Monday, August 11th, 2003
Subject: i am feeling better...
Time: 2:18 pm.
but i'm still an idiot.
also: i have a lot of flaws.
Tuesday, August 5th, 2003
Subject: who needs to take better care of themselves?
Time: 1:58 pm.
the doctor told me:
that i am dehydrated.
that i have a bladder infection.
that i have a sinus infection.
also: i am menstruating so i feel as awkward as a twelve year old right now.
Time: 1:35 pm.
i have to go to court tomorrow.
Tuesday, September 9th, 2003
Subject: my grammar is broken.
Time: 9:52 am.
and i was leaving vim (the last stop on my sneaker pilgrimage) heading home via fourteenth street, and i ran into emme. she was walking by, talking on her cellular phone. she began to extend her arm in a passing wave way, i, the same. and then we stopped. it wasn't like we just had a lunch date and we left to run our respective errands and happened to fumble upon each other in the passing hour. we stopped because we hadn't seen each other in two years.
she looked better, healthier, still too slim, cropped hair, more fashionable. she filled me in on some details: jess was back in australia. david and mae were still together living in new york (good kids. i'll take it even farther by saying that i fancied david for two weeks after i met him. smart, laid-back, reminds me of a friend i have in washington, but david, as i remember him, wasn't nearly as attractive as the latter. and mae, nice girl, bright, with flaming red hair. now that i think about it, i wonder if anyone has ever questioned their relationship. they look like siblings). emme also informed me that she had grown quite close to alana. that alana was doing well with theatre. that alana was in new york as well and that we should all get together, the three of us, for drinks. and i kept thinking to myself, "who the fuck is alana? am i this senile?" she told me erin was back in brooklyn. she also said she would run into jen from time to time.
i could tell by her eyes, swallowing the stranger in front of her, that i was the one who had not changed. that i was the same. i and my situation hadn't changed. that i looked the same, and that i was still looking for/to the same things: work, theatre, graduate school. maybe i wasn't a stranger after all. like time, from when i was at the atlantic until now, had been on pause.
i have seen four atlantics in a week. what sort of sign is this? eh?
if we could fast-forward my paused life, you would have found me in front of my mirror with a pair of scissors, cutting away at the sameness. i cannot tell you that my hair looks any better, but i can tell you this: i need to change, something, anything, everything, something. and this is going to be my month.
Monday, September 8th, 2003
Subject: "That which we see in the bottom of our glass is most often dregs."
Time: 5:13 pm.
three hours of albee, three amazing plays (well, four if you want to detach box from mao). fifty cents. i love the library.
Thursday, September 4th, 2003
Subject: inanimate and animate.
Time: 4:14 am.
on one hand, i can count all the great loves i've had and lost in these twenty-three years.
Tuesday, September 2nd, 2003
Time: 8:34 pm.
i can't stop thinking about upstate.
Monday, September 1st, 2003
Subject: also, i'm an aunt.
Time: 11:07 pm.
and the baby looks like me.
ironic.
Time: 3:46 pm.
i had weird dreams again. theo you were in it. something to do with american culture, picking a president or a band or artist that represents the united states. i was having a hard time finding new and interesting facts on george washington, so i was going to do a project on dave matthews (i remember navy poster board d stencils). i remember theo found me reebok pumps. in my dream they turned from white to black. there was a small child in the middle of the cafeteria like forum on american culture and he had jello molds of things reminiscent of the stonehenge and brassy upbeat french music was playing in the background.
Sunday, August 31st, 2003
Subject: i'm going to miss danny.
Time: 3:18 pm.
hazy green and grey room, hues of pink. living room party. children running around. the one i remember, blonde hair, bowl hair cut, diapers and a heather grey t-shirt. this song comes on, the one that goes "i've always been this way, never known any other way to feel..." and i look around the room, mouthing the lyrics and notice two other people singing along to the song.
Saturday, August 30th, 2003
Subject: aesthetically...
Time: 4:48 pm.
these cookies look spooky. maybe too many chips. but they taste fucking awesome. and yes, i should not be eating them.
Friday, August 29th, 2003
Subject: how you living biggie smalls.
Time: 9:54 pm.
my former friend joe called me this evening. and i understand why i stopped talking to him a year ago. he's fucking nuts.
Subject: i spent some money last night.
Time: 11:25 am.
and i had a wonderful time.
Thursday, August 28th, 2003
Time: 6:54 pm.
the problem is this: i have not left the house in three days. except to buy half and half.
Wednesday, August 27th, 2003
Time: 10:09 am.
i had a spooky science fiction dream in which three non humans hung from ropes. two of them had their faces cut into cubes. the the third horse like non human escaped by shimmying up the rope and busting through the drop ceiling. then the cats woke me up because they were hungry.
Research shows that most dreams are unpleasant. Violent dreams are relatively common and may be a reflection of the confusion and conflict that the dreamer experiences in daily life. Dreams with violent themes suggest that the dreamer has unconscious negative emotions such as fear, anxiety, and anger. If you are not dealing with these feeling consciously, your dreams are compensating and bringing into awareness the need for honest reflection and emotional balance in daily life.
The horse is a noble and powerful animal. As a dream symbol it can represent a wide range of positive thoughts and ideas about self or others. Depending on the details of the dream, horses can symbolize freedom, power, and sexual energy. At times, they can also be considered messengers, relaying information from the unconscious to the conscious, from the spiritual to the physical. If you are horseback riding it suggests that you are self-assured and feel a sense of control in your daily life. Old dream interpretation books say that the color of the horse is also significant. (Remember that this is based on superstition.) Black horses are said to point out delays; white horses reinforce the positive and transformative aspects of life; gray horses may point to the difficulties in the dreamers current situation; piebald horses are symbolic of confusion; brown horses are associated with mental pursuits; tan horses are said to be symbolic of love and sex.
Occasionally, people will have drams about UFO's and aliens. What these dreams symbolize collectively or individually is difficult to explain and understand. Meeting and talking to aliens may suggest that significant changes are coming into your life and, at the moment, things feel strange and foreign to you. If you dream that you are the alien, it suggests that you may feel detached from some parts of yourself and from others. You may be a stranger in your immediate surroundings and some self-evaluation and familiarization is suggested.
This dream suggests that the dreamer is losing control. In a decapitation there is a dramatic and violent separation of the head from the body. Under normal circumstances the mind controls and directs the body. This dream suggests that the dreamer may be under the control of his bodily drives and may be separated from rational thoughts and feelings. Disassociation may be occurring in regard to some behavior or issue in life. However, this dream may have other meanings. This includes excessive concern about punishment and indicates that there may be severe pressure and anxiety in the dreamer's life.
Going upward, or ascending, is always a positive dream symbol. Whether you are struggling on a difficult rope or ladder or walking up an easy slope, this dream suggests that you are moving in the right direction. If the climb in your dream is extremely difficult, it may be pointing to some obstacles that you need to overcome before reaching your goals. Consider all of the details in your dream, and if you recently completed a difficult task, achieved a goal (e.g. graduating), this dream may be reflective in nature.
The number three always has to do with commitment and as such it should be placed in the I Need column. It stands for mind, body and spirit and is a request to commit yourself, mind body and spirit, to improving yourself in the direction indicated in the dream. The number 3 will often appear in dreams about the heart as people who have closed off their heart to others often lack commitment. A triangle or pyramid also indicate commitment and request the dreamer to meditate on the subject matter of the dream.
Grey colors, meaning: uncommitted, uncertain - ‘grey area’. Mental denial of emotion, depression.
Tuesday, August 26th, 2003
Subject: also.
Time: 7:07 pm.
not working is making me clinically insane.
Subject: on the subject of journaling.
Time: 5:45 pm.
i rant in this thing oftentimes when i am either menstruating or pre-menstrual.
someone buy me a computer. i want to work on my play more.
Time: 3:00 pm.
hi bret.
Sunday, August 24th, 2003
Subject: i want to name my kid:
Time: 3:57 pm.
petit.
middle name, prince.
i might hold onto dow. memoria technica.
Thursday, August 21st, 2003
Time: 10:04 am.
david cross is stalking me.
Monday, August 11th, 2003
Subject: i am feeling better...
Time: 2:18 pm.
but i'm still an idiot.
also: i have a lot of flaws.
Tuesday, August 5th, 2003
Subject: who needs to take better care of themselves?
Time: 1:58 pm.
the doctor told me:
that i am dehydrated.
that i have a bladder infection.
that i have a sinus infection.
also: i am menstruating so i feel as awkward as a twelve year old right now.
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