Word on a Wire

Crazy Like a Cat...

2010-07-18T11:39:00.000-05:00

rescued from Winnebago County Animal Shelter just about a week ago. he was there for quite a few months. he has no name yet. we're waiting for him to tell us. he enjoys attempts at climbing the wall, walking circles around your feet as you're trying to walk and keeping you awake by laying on your neck and pawing your face with his sharp claws as you try to sleep at 2 in the morning.

And Here We Go...

2010-07-18T11:22:00.000-05:00

typically when i get back on the blog wagon, i erase all traces of old blog and start anew. no looking back, forward! i'm not sure if my nostalgic nerve or button is getting stronger because of the pregnancy, if it's this new 'i want everything to be organic' sense i have or if it's just because i'm lazy, but all i did this time was put a fresh coat of paint on..few tweaks...ta-da. it was quite interesting reading through all of the old thoughts. i felt young. it was only 2 years ago. my mind still feels young, it's just dusty and needs an oiling.

'Art' Mags...

2008-07-06T08:55:00.003-05:00

taken from an excerpt in Exopus -

'when you want something, ask for it - don't make everyone guess what you would like. you might not always get what you want, but a lot of times you will. plus, then other people will know what you like or don't like and we will give you what you like sometimes without you asking us. we all want to help you and make you happy. help us make you happy by using words to tell us about you.'

Don't and Never...

2008-07-01T15:59:00.003-05:00

you never apologized. and i feel it growing farther and farther. i don't see you anymore, i just see someone looking at me through the past. i will not pay for their mistakes. so...i will disappear into the darkness of the cave. you will know nothing. i'm not holding onto it, i'm just tired of fighting it

Out East...

2008-06-02T16:21:00.002-05:00

remembering in fragments...

cool breezes

sand in my shoes

crossword puzzles

are you having a laugh?

childish smiles

fidgeting fingers

gab-a-thon 2008

restaurant humiliation

best ice cream cake ever

kind eyes

and the seagulls sing

Floating...

2008-05-15T21:37:00.003-05:00

i went to Milwaukee this past Wednesday with two very dear friends. our first stop was the Milwaukee Art Museum (MAM). i've been there countless times, the other two were virgins. it was probably the best visit i've ever had. i didn't have to stop in front of paintings and explain my thoughts...i walked through the museum as i should...someone who's been there many times, but still enjoys it. i walked slowly past 'things' i thoroughly enjoy, and i skipped entire rooms i have no interest in. i got to see two of my favorites. very far from pencil, ink or paint. a statue of a janitor so real i still think it's possible it's an actual human being. and a little, little man who has fallen from his chair only to have it crush his head. he reveals deep dark secrets no one should ever know. if you've never been to MAM, then that last bit might be confusing. but we came across something that wasn't there the last time i was...a room called "The Infinity Room". even from the outside it looked ominous. it's walls painted black. we walked around the walls and the man 'manning' the exhibit told us to put shoe guards on our shoes. like the ones you see in hospitals. we walked up the 4 steps, in front of the fake velvet curtain acting as a door and was met with a bit of fear. or, at least i was. what's behind it? infinity? how can i see infinity? i walked in first to be met by what felt like millions of stars. i was floating. walking carefully across what i thought was either glass or nothingness. top, bottom, left and right...all you could see were millions of tiny little lights. i could tell you exactly what the artist did to realistically expain what i saw and felt, but that wouldn't be fair to you or the artist. instead...i will tell you what i felt, outside of what was real. it's mixed and i still haven't made sense of it...

looking through these 'stars' i felt as if i could see into a future of nothing. complete blackness and the unknown. and really...when you think about it...when you try to imagine what your life will be like, whatever image or story you conjure, it's all unknown.

i felt completely insignificant. but, i didn't feel as if i didn't matter...i felt like a very small part of a larger scheme.

i felt like all the problems i have or will have will be solved regardless of their outcome in whatever fashion it chooses. in other words, what will be will be, let it be...or whatever lyric you like.

i instantly felt at peace with everything. every problem i have, every thought nagging my brain seemed unimportant. it was replaced with a great importance. it seemed to erase all sense of being.

and then i felt sick. from the feeling of floating and from the feeling of not being in control. how do we really know that we are? if i make choice A instead of B is that the right choice that will get me to the coveted answer C? who knows.

i walked out, verbally saying it was pretty awesome. but on the inside, i was fighting all these mixed feelings.

i want to go back. i want to sit on the floor amongst these 'stars' for as long as they'll let me. for some reason, i think if i was able to soak up this space...i might find an answer or two.

Limbless Babies and Poisonous Alligators...

2008-05-04T10:29:00.003-05:00

i was at work in the back office. everything looked exactly the same except, the room was lit by only one flickering florescent light. the kind of flicker that if you notice it for too long, you start feeling violent. everyone was walking around frantically. as if there was some sort of top secret deadline and everyone's ass was on the line. there was a knock at the door...the money man had arrived. what we call the 'money man' is a Guarda employee...delivering change and picking up bank deposits. i led the way to the cash office and when i opened the door, light seemed to pour out the entry like a vine. the money man and i stepped into the cash office and he handed me the change order...along with a 7 month old baby. i didn't find this odd. it seemed incredibly normal that with every change order, you receive a baby. i took the baby, signed the delivery receipt and let the money man go on his way. i opened the safe with baby in arm and as i reached for the bag of change, on the floor was an alligator. not a large one. i would say it wasn't a baby alligator, more like an early teenager. i ran for the door, but of course, it wouldn't open. the alligator started to lunge and snap at the baby's legs. it eventually got a firm mouthful of flesh and started tearing away at this poor child's legs. but the baby never screamed or cried. it had no expression whatsoever. it looked, indifferent. it mauled it's legs so severely you couldn't even tell they were once healthy limbs. then the alligator started to attack my right arm and leg. i felt no pain, but was very worried. somehow, i knew that this alligator's bite was not ordinary. his bite was full of poison. on the desk was a bic pen and a razor blade. as if taunting me, 'choose wisely'. i thought about it for a second, i wouldn't be able to use the blade because i would actually have to slice into this alligator. i didn't think i had the stomach for it. so i picked up the pen and tried to puncture this alligator. the pen did nothing. i don't even think it left an ink mark. i threw the pen down and managed to tear my arm away from the alligator's poisonous teeth, tried the door again and it opened without effort. i ran out leaving the alligator behind, still holding on to this silent limbless baby. the back room was still in chaos. i went over to Mike and Rox's desks and tried to tell them what had happened. they were in the middle of frantically discussing the schedule and even when i pointed to my now deformed right arm, they were not concerned. Mike told me to be quiet...he was trying to talk to Rox. i pointed to my arm. my pinky finger no longer existed. the flesh was there with no bone. and my arm had turned completely black and numb, from the poison. i walked away from them to nurse my own wounds and met Stephen. he saw the tattered baby and my arm and asked me what was wrong. but he asked it with no concern in his voice. it was just a matter of fact. i told him what had happened and he quietly sat us down, he sighed and then walked away. the dream seemed to skip. like a '3 months later' flash in a movie. i was now being threatened by the company. they planned on firing me because the foster family that takes these 'change order babies' was very upset that i let that alligator eat off it's legs. what good would a legless baby be? i woke up before any decisions were made as to what to do about my lack of heroism. needless to say, the next day at work, when the money man arrived, i conveniently was no where to be found.

The Hers...

2008-04-13T11:19:00.003-05:00

i have no interest in being sweet talked behind a wall not only my back to where i started feeling ashamed to call myself a girl you need a lot more than a good screw in the bolt and make yourself grounded unsteady friendships lead to chaos and despairme your bullshit i'm too old to care about your integrity and your self-esteem will follow the signs everyone gives you just ignore everyone's right.

Red, Gold and Green...

2008-03-21T09:39:00.003-05:00

i told a story a long time ago about my mother slipping on a patch of ice and when she stood up to brush herself off, she looked up at the sky and yelled at God blaming him for all of her misfortune. i didn't want to feel like that, or be like that. blaming some sort of force for life's mishaps. after this past weekend, although i'm not blaming, it does feel like there is some sort of force behind what appears to be a black cloud.

no one ever said that getting a car would be easy, i knew i wouldn't be able to walk through a car lot, point to a car and have an eager car salesman hand me the keys with a gleaming white smile. my fantasies aren't that far fetched, really. but i really wasn't expecting everything to go wrong. the car i had my heart set on sold a few hours before i went to the car lot. an older version of the car i had my heart set on was misadvertised as ready to finance when really, it was being sold for a private owner. and then i was denied financing because my credit is not bad, nor good. it's just...mediocre. so my day of car shopping was fruitless and a huge slap in the face. i went home, completely deflated. and now, i'm still waiting for a bank to give an answer about financing through them. what's funny is, i chose to dish out some money and have a car payment at the beginning of what financial analysts call a 'recession'. banks are less willing to hand out loans. lucky me.

this whole carless situation just makes me think back to other situations that have gone awry. when i think about it, it does seem as if something/someone is creating a barrier of bad luck. i don't believe in luck and i've always firmly believed that the only person responsible for their own misfortune, is themselves. however, i do believe in karma. i pick and choose my beliefs really...like any good Catholic.

David and i had a conversation about karma some years ago. oddly enough, standing in a long line late at night at Wal-Mart. there was a massive display of batteries near us and surrounding the display, the floor was littered with packages of batteries that had fallen off. people were walking by, shuffling the batteries closer to the display with their foot. he looked down, picked up every package and hung them neatly with the rest of their kind. i asked him why he did that, out of curiosity. he said that he had been thinking about karma more and more these days. and that he was doing good deeds to build his possible future good fortune. i thought that was rather silly. if karma does exist, does it really count to do good deeds for the sole purpose of receiving something in return at some point? aren't you supposed to be naturally good natured and do things out of the kindness of your heart, with no intent to further yourself? i wouldn't look at a piece of garbage on the ground, think to myself 'well if i pick it up and place it in the garbage i'll be building my karma points'. i'd look at a piece of garbage on the ground, pick it up and place it in the garbage because seeing litter disgusts me. of course he disagreed. any good deed no matter the intent is still karma worthy. mhm.

i've never really been able to fully enjoy situations going right. they may start out right, first with good hope and strong intent, but shortly after, it all just falls apart. hope turns into despair and my strong intent turns into a mushy mess of 'what now'. finding love, losing love. moving only to return home just weeks later. making friends, losing friends. having money, money taken away. sunny day, blizzard within hours. the usual. so is it karma? and if it is, haven't i paid in full...and then some? yes, i've done some pretty horrible things in my life, but i'd like to think that for the past couple years i've been 'good' inside and out. i must say, it feels like i'm paying for something.

now, i'm not glaring at the sky screaming at a force i can not see. blaming it for the wrong. i'm not even trying to find something to hold responsible. can i blame myself? sure i can. do i still believe that i deserve good fortune? sure i do.

all i'm really saying is....i'm tired. it's like i'm at war. i keep hitting the front line with the wrong gear and having to retreat and regroup. right now, i'm gathering more soldiers in hopes to overwhelm the enemy. but i am afraid. i'm afraid that eventually, i'll run out of ideas, and i'll have to pull out the white flag.

and that's my metaphor of the day.

oh...if you get the reference stated in the blog title, i'll give you a tasty treat. or, just a smile.

Keep It...

2008-03-14T10:27:00.002-05:00

i've been quiet for almost a month it seems. sometimes life is just very plain. or sometimes, life needs you to keep your fingers to yourself.

childish things fill my head. insecurities run amok. people make me dislike my kind. boys push me closer to girls. Oprah is going to send me to a gun store. Favre...you dick.

i had a dream that we were in a pet store. you made me feel very guilty for refusing to get a puppy. i wanted the kitty. jerk.

Pilot...

2008-02-18T20:11:00.003-06:00

i bought a new pen. of the fancy variety.
fountain, i think they call it. they, Pilot.
navigator of words. you write to no one in your
Moleskin journal. such a pity.
your ink flows with no sound as if the paper has been buttered.
are there really words like these?
easy
flowing
silent
careless
breathless
if i don't keep writing, it will dry.
if i don't keep running, i will die.
how dare you write such dramatic words
with such an effortless stroke of black.
the ink crawls onto my skin like a vine
growing fast forward.
seeping through the cracks life has given me.
perhaps it will seep deep into my fragile blood
giving it the strength my body denies it.

this is for someone else. and the music plays between her ivory thighs.

Lyric Laced...

2008-02-17T07:43:00.003-06:00

please don't confront me with my failures, i have not forgotten them.

it's hard to forget, ya know? everything i've done wrong, said wrong, haven't done, haven't said. things i've wanted or hoped for, only to fall short or change course because of reasons i still don't understand. in my life, nothing really goes as planned. and really, it's kind of nice that way. hidden surprises and harsh realities. and as Tweedy says, Is that the thanks i get for loving you? oh we can make it better..... hmm.

the thing about failure and faults is that if you plan on it, it will happen. i'm not saying that if your hopes are high and you stay positive no failure can occur. it happens regardless, if it was meant to. what was i thinking when i said it didn't hurt. what was i thinking when i said hello.

i will fail again and my faults will be visible like a word written in marker and who will be there to overlook them with a smile rather than point and sneer? me.

i've chased after love time and time again. i went so far as Massachusetts. i'm not running. not walking. not dragging my feet. i'm standing still.

The ashtray says
You were up all night
When you went to bed
With your darkest mind
Your pillow wept
And covered your eyes
And you finally slept
While the sun caught fire

You've changed

We fell in love
In the key of C
We walked along
Down by the sea
You followed me down
The neck to D
And fell again
Into the sea

You changed

Maybe all I need is a shot in the arm
Something in my veins bloodier than blood

What you once were isn't what you want to be any more

Slow Down, Eat Some Pancakes...

2008-02-05T15:09:00.000-06:00

ralentissez, mangez quelques crêpes

verlangsamen Sie sich, essen Sie einige Pfannkuchen

haga más lentos, coma algunos panques

diminua, coma algumas panquecas

il rallentamento, mangia alcuni pancake

Blessed Be...

2008-01-31T09:21:00.000-06:00

this is sort of a response to Pancake's review of his recent church experience. i'm wordy today.

i haven't been to church in many years (i exclude the baptisms and funerals in the past couple years...life and death). so many years that i can't even guess at a number. in true catholic tradition, once you reach the ripe age of 17 you are no longer obligated to wake up early on Sunday morning to sit next to your mom on an uncomfortable wooden pew and pretend you're listening. i didn't turn my back on God, i just decided to keep walking.

i was raised with religion. i attended Sunday school, which even 'back in the day' wasn't held on Sunday. i don't remember one piece of information i was taught in Sunday school. i'm not sure if it's because i wasn't paying attention, i just didn't get it, or i have since forgotten. my mother read books about angels and saints. she joined a group/club of St. Francis of Assisi. she would bring me with her during their meetings and social events. i remember those. i remember those because it seemed to have nothing to do with honoring or 'doing the work' of St. Francis. at the meetings women would belittle the women that weren't able to show up, or anyone out of earshot. rumors spread like wildfire. if you couldn't pay your dues you were banned from meetings, unpolitely. they would have bake sales and yard sales raising money for whatever cause they felt strongly about. half of the profits would go right back to the church to pay for the use of their meeting room. it all just seemed silly and fake. the fact that i was 12 and realized that must mean something.

i had never felt any desire to attend church after my fathers death. i was probably still holding onto the anger. and really, i felt that if i were to step foot in a church, the guilt would be unbearable. so i avoided it altogether. i went to visit a once good friend in Milwaukee one winter, some years ago. when he asked me to come visit he had promised me a relaxing night of Charles Mingus, Coltrane, vodka and conversation. and at the end of that promise he informed me that he would like to attend a service at his local Episcopalian church. it was a special service with a boy's choir and he was told that the church would be lit by candlelight only. i agreed to the music, drink and talk, but told him that 'we'd see how the night went' in regards to church. after much debate and vodka he convinced me to walk down the block to the church. i remember being worried about my attire. i thought i was dressed too casual. he assured me it was fine. and as we were walking, suddenly, i knew that i'd end up sitting in a pew...crying. i told my friend that i'd like to turn back, he could go, but let me go back. i didn't want to cry in church. he assured me it would fine, and that he would be crying with me.

the church was beautiful even on the outside. made of heavy stone, colorful stained glass, iron and heavy wooden doors. the pews were a dark cherry wood, lit by towers of candles. to the left of the pews behind a black iron gate stood the boys choir, robed in white. we sat down and within the first note those boys released from their lips, i wept. i couldn't stop it. i didn't want to. it was a quite sob. tears just streaming. my friend held my hand and we continued to sit there in silence and tears.

the service ended and i practically bolted out the door. i didn't want the other church-goers to see my red and tear stained face. with my friend behind me i walked briskly back to his apartment. we didn't say a word to eachother. we both walked in silence as i cried even more.

to this day i am unsure as to what was causing me to cry. the guilt of being raised Catholic, the beauty of the church and the sound of the choir, the anger and abandonment i still felt from my father's funeral...i don't know. a combination perhaps. and since then, i haven't been to church. but i have thought about it.

i did think about attending these new 'hip' services. filled with music that sounds nothing like a boy's choir accompanied by an old organ. Pastors or Ministers that speak more from the mind and heart rather than straight from an ancient book. but, the more i thought about it, the more it pushed me away. to me, it just isn't supposed to be that way. i'd rather be surrounded in deep set history. old stone, wooden pews, white robes, stinky incense, latin, unhip Priests and the ancient book. i'm a sucker for history. i'm drawn to it. i crave it. it's why i like buying used clothes and furniture. it's why i fell in love with Massachusetts. it's why church was bearable. i don't want something new or the same with a shiny new cover. i want it to be old, used, weathered, set in it's place, full of tradition. i want to be able to feel it's history.

i'd love to go to church again. but considering my views, i'd enter that church a hypocrite. and being Catholic, i imagine myself instantly turning into dust once the holy water touched my fingers. guilty guilty guilty.

Just Words...

2008-01-28T21:31:00.000-06:00

his skin is pale in the dark room lit only by the blue numbered lights. who was once an intimidating, stark figure, strong and proud, within moments, diminished into hunks of flesh and emotion. she lays there, frigid, cold to the touch, unable to speak because feelings are now foreign and unwanted. she can't embrace, he won't believe it or feel it. her deliberate solitude has made her this way and his wounded heart makes a mess she tries to ignore. she does feel it, deep inside. the guilt of being selfish. but now she has accepted it and let it become the rule. he will awake next to her, miles apart, covered in sweat. he thinks she sleeps soundly, unaware of his struggle. but it wakes her, the notion of emotional fiber breaking down. she is awake and waiting for it to pass so that in the morning, when it is time, she can pretend she's the same person he once knew.

Flying...

2008-01-28T21:10:00.001-06:00

It's a Fool...

2008-01-28T19:52:00.000-06:00

And anytime you feel the pain, hey jude, refrain,
Don't carry the world upon your shoulders.
For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool
By making his world a little colder.

i was having a particularly rough day at work. i don't think i'd be able to say exactly what was wrong, or just not right. i didn't have anything planned, so no plans were foiled. it was just a feeling. a feeling of being empty and it being my fault. i stood outside, a warmer day than it has been, to feed the addiction. as i stood there, there was a man standing on the sidewalk with a small digital camera. the camera was pointed down, at his feet. he concentrated on the image of his shoes for a moment, and i heard the camera 'snap'. he took a picture of his shoes. he stood there, a few feet from me either unaware of my presence or indifferent. with his camera still fixed on his shoes he put his left leg forward, in front of the right, and took another picture. this time, assumably, of his left shoe. i thought this odd, but i continued to watch unabashedly. he took a few more steps down the sidewalk, possibly 5 to 6, stopped and once again, digitally captured his shoes on cold concrete. nothing was going through my head as he was doing this. i was just...fascinated. i kept watching, and he would stop 2 more times on that sidewalk as he walked towards the door...snapping pictures of the same thing. once he entered the store i quickly threw my cigarette into the parking lot. i've tried flicking cigarettes and i always end up burning my fingers. if at first you don't succeed, try something else. so i followed this man inside. he made his way to the restrooms and i thought, well, that was nice while it lasted. i really have no interest in seeing what goes on in our men's restroom. but he stopped. right before the doorway. he stood there with his camera pointed straight in front of him, at the wall. but before he snapped another seemingly pointless picture he put his right hand inches in front of the camera, palm in. 'snap'. now i was thinking. he had done it. he got me out of my indescribable blue mood and replaced it with utter intrigue. why? what was he doing? is it a new camera and he's testing the functions? i just don't know. so i stood there next to the restrooms by the cafe and watched him walk by me. i didn't bother to look busy by staring at the cafe menu. i stared. head and eyes following him. he stopped again and by the look on his face i would say he was thinking to himself..what else can i do? he pointed the camera down with his right hand, took the corner of his jacket in his left hand and lifted it away from his body. 'snap'. he looked at what he had captured with no expression on his face. no hint for my questions of why and what. he continued past the cafe and for a moment i thought, i will spend my entire hour lunch following a stranger taking pictures of random boring objects and it will be the best hour of my day, of my week. but, he kept walking, i kept following. outside the doors, down the sidewalk. he didn't stop. his camera was now placed in his pocket. he ended it. what's even more perplexing is that he went into the store and did nothing. he didn't browse. he didn't buy. he didn't even use the restroom he almost walked into. all he did was take pictures of things he didn't need to go into a store in order to do. just...odd. i did think about stopping him on his way out. just ask. end my pondering by seeking the answer. but i didn't. any answer to what my questions were would have been a let down. it would have made sense, i imagine. and that's not what i was after. i like being curious and i like not finding the answer.

the blue settled back in quickly and i still had a half hour to kill with no stranger to follow. so i sat in a co-worker's car to smoke in peace. i turned the key in hopes of finding something decent on the radio to ignore and what came on was her cd she had playing. and the speakers said "and anytime you feel the pain, hey jude, refrain...". i smiled and listened to Hey Jude intently, as if it were the first time i heard it. maybe it was. my smile stayed. the blue on the side, on hold. i smiled and wished i could write paragraphs like the Beatles write songs. i smiled and wished i had a picture of my shoes, hand and jacket.

A Few Less Habits and a List...

2008-01-24T07:42:00.000-06:00

a few changes and excitement down the road. and here comes the fragments.

i finally made it to the grocery store, with a list this time. when i go without a list of my needs, my mind fights my eyes. do i need it? should i get it? and forget about 'did i forget anything?'. of course i did. i stocked up on fresh fruit, vegetables, beans, fish, good bread and fake meat. my old, healthy diet is back and hopefully, here to stay. but i will say, it's a bit worrisome. the last time i was on this 'diet', i was a meat eater and a carb shunner. i'd eat a couple pieces of turkey and cheese for lunch or some baked chicken and steamed veggies for dinner. low fat, almost no carbs. now that meat is no longer in my vocab, it's going to be difficult to stay away from carbs and still be left satisfied. unfortunately, i don't have the patience or time to create mouth watering dishes from the bible of Vegans. i'll just have to be creative. when i was at the store i walked right past the Diet Coke. i'm gonna kick that habit once again. although, i did buy some white grape Diet Rite. sometimes i just need that fizziness. we'll see how it goes with a shockingly less amount of caffeine throughout the day. no more ColdBrewed Caramel Mochas at work. torture.

i kicked the habit of MySpace. today was my first time back on the computer since i pressed 'Cancel'. and..i struggled. as soon as FireFox loaded i began typing...'My..'. no no. that space is no longer mine. i can say, i really don't feel as if it was an addiction. it was a deep habit. my fingers are still trying to find it...that's all. it's very peaceful here. i think i'll stay.

if everything goes as planned i should be rollin' by mid-March. i'm almost to the point where i'm comfortable parting with a large sum of money for a set of wheels. i'm being extra smart and careful this time. i don't want to be broke, with a car that isn't registered or titled. and i am very thankful for the people that have allowed me to be extra smart and careful. hauling my less broken ass back and forth to work, perhaps not gladly, but patiently.

i finished reading The History of Swimming, by Kim Powers. i tried something new this time. i put down the book and saved the last chapter so that i could hold onto the feeling of a good read. it took me 2 weeks to read this book. a book so good it would have only taken me 4 days if i were still greedy. i highly suggest it. and i highly suggest you remember...new Augusten Burroughs in April entitled 'Wolf at the Table'. and..and..new Chuck Klosterman in September (or forever), the title of his book has escaped my memory. i'll remember by August.

Close...

2008-01-22T15:28:00.000-06:00

almost there. and i feel even more ridiculous when i realize the fact that getting rid of MySpace is making me anxious like a child with half a day left of summer vacation. i just read some bulletins and i wanted to scream. 'check out my new pics', 'check out my new layout', 'i'm sad, cheer me up'. me, me, me, fake, fake, fake. yes, i'll miss it..of course. but i'd much rather be anonymous.

someone sent me a message, called me a liar and told me to just go to Facebook. why. as i told him, why would i sever one head just to grow another?

silly.

And What...

2008-01-21T21:05:00.000-06:00

last night i had a dream that, i think, was meant to be a video. ya know, like back in the day when MTV was good. and it wasn't only because John Lennon, Yoko and Julian Lennon were in it. it just felt...money. i am serious. a dream filled with icons, as iconic as Yoko can get. they were singing, but i couldn't hear them. i was watching, but it was moving too fast. i tried to feel it, but it swept past my fingers.

i'm reading a memoir about a twin who lost his twin, his search to find him. and, sometimes, it feels like i'm searching for my twin. i am a Gemini, alas. my other half sees the sea and takes it for granted while i see me and...

what.