sorry bunny

sorry bunny

Thursday, March 31, 2011

a show I missed last night so i could home without 1) paying for a taxi again or 2) walking/hitchhiking (=2hours)

so awake from earlier 730am class.

PRINCE RAMA : is Nur's favorite new band.
http://princerama.com/album/zetland

she missed their show. is Nur truly becoming responsible? Or simply not as blindly optimistic? either way, this is just an arrow pointing towards Brooklyn.


another really fucking cool band that played at my last (musically challenged) show with Is Root. ....

YDESTROYDE !! Jaapanese screams & super smash brothers videogame galaxy

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

forgetting back pain

It may creep. Layers may be leading as they tug from corners in every direction. Imagine it is the softest fabric. Transparent and smooth. I picture navy blue as I pull it over my face. Grey Gardens influenced imagery. I cover up my face so you can't see my wrinkles. Everyone in this town is 20 and I don't want them to know how old I am. Racing to be famous. Slow yourself down and remember: you can have anything you've ever wanted.

I want to have enough inner motivation to plant my garden, to feed from it. I picked seeds all dragon themed, so as to intent the fire into my belly. The red fire and flying beast sweeps down and burns unnecessary dreams. I find my missing tooth in the dirt dried by the sunlight of my circle garden.

I want to have a partner, one that won't leave me when I get angry or scared. Because, I know, I get more angry and more scared than anyone else you know who is: a girl / 5 feet tall / and with such boyish locks. because I know that for some reason, I was born with the face of fear inscribed onto my bones. It can be scary, for me to. Oh. Help me Quell these violent fires.

I want a baby. So we can grow up in an unconditioned world. So my baby can experience the joy of being a little more free. And some simple wishes, to ride bikes down the street, to make friends with the community and not feel like an outsider all the time, no more ant eggs in the mailbox or weird middle eastern conflicts in the back of everyone's mind when they look at our lawn. Ah but her mother will conditioned... There's only so much we can. do. Still. A baby. her name will be Aziza (deer) or Mezo, I've heard others too. My womb feels heavy today.

And a spark yelped out as we stubbed his toe. He yelled, "Let loose and plants those seeds forget about the rest!"



I bought that spark, off ebay. I loved him. He never died. And we all got over that last cycle of tension. Now we're all better. or at least on the way.

<3

Thursday, March 10, 2011

a day like you

[soundtrack to blog: I've Been Waiting For a Girl Like You"]

Yesterday I realized:
*****************************that in order to shue myself of my old masks I must come to meet in the middle*************
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^balance brings balance. I am air and fire and water quells both. If you want to call this feminine. I am attracted to the feminine. Wherever it may be, attracted to hte balnced submission, and equality is balanced dominance. Its as if by being bein in a non-dominating environment, I am able to be dominant to the degree that is healthy and balncing^^^^

WAIT

they DO love you like I love you. :D

water washes us clean dirty
water washes soil to the brim of your lip
faith in good lips
soft and plush
and a soft crash of the wave
there is no slow wave of death
death to death to death to death!
DEATH TO DEATH TO DEATH TO DEATH ITSELF!
raise up ye mighty fists and say,
DEath to DEath! To death! To death!
riding the slow wave of doom, I found myself upon the shore of green and the unseen fae
they my kindred brethern

the green shore is real stuff
real stuff is real eyes that see ing
does not have to include becoming
evryone

Monday, March 7, 2011

an adulterated notice: the neural pathways forming around the cerebral cortex have found-ed pressure from the form of four- lobes that whore around the titles as time cube and other four-part systems do, indeed travel quarterly.

broken on becoming:
in finding the fortune of human lines
our flaws we create disease out of, the boundary for health is your only control
where your body falls and forms and from where
but silly embarrassment and idle motors running
the drip of oil from your face, one more bottle of Nur's skin-so-soft Replicate
replicate unbraid fold over
d to the a to the d
Dad!
d to the a to the d to the a
Dada!
my dad, your dada.
my dad, bad ass dad
jungle dad

The dimension of your illness are imagination themself
can or cant you trick your own mind, out of this self-constructed game?
to foil the foundation of the tower that you are, to deconstruct with tools of the construct
would be to know more than you know
would be to remember
how you originally thought of 1 2 3
when lines were connected to make planes
how did you fly them then
when planes forged together and formed space
then when you remembered, time was created
and as you think back now, you are expanding time
a pocket
that will leave you as you were when you had entered
and in the end , will you remember it nothing more than just a dream with so many holes
it doesnt even seem real
well that dream is your body
and every hole feels ill
when blood is pouring out and cells become rank with forgetting just who they were submitting to, today
organs rot
molecules denatured
the cycle of energy and chaos, haven't been explained to the mitochondria
bags smooth and coarse wrapped warped time and space ELEVATED into pockets wherein a hand reaches out and grabs you from the darkness.
so many sorries and seance to speak to the dead
we fashion so many travels to lay median to our notions
a bridge a bed of dead roses, clover bed decomposes
to stretch out one hand from heart to body requires to redirect that hand from first reaching around the heart and strangling it to death
the lungs house the heart in a strange way
first the breath goes then the bite

we are very important personality compartments! sang she bloated throat from the top micro-phone- five times daily.
somehow opposes, the fading ego and filling void energy
who are we? said in multiple voices
who we you? floats and shimmers faeries that ring in side of ears
orbs with horns that mover you.
maximum surface area ensures maximum cell respiration
im a technical wizard specializing in the cycle sickle lick a little sick-lycle like a little sick in yur lick a lyrical stick
breath and air is our foundation
the stick is only masturbation
disturb nation
fucking the shit out of ourselves
if your girlfriend understands you, praise the lord, even if she rubs one off so many times a day that her foreskin is soaring
in flakes, all over, her bedroom
i close my eyes and see them all falling on the ground like autumn leaves
and a chill passes behind me, the window left open.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

notes on submissive and dominant energy

a house I know full of dominant energy. notes taped on doors so they cAn go to work. makes me feel heavy. hold in my heart, deep, inflicted by my mother. hardwood floors looks nice and the pictures on the wall are all pretty. i like the colors. warm sight. but my heart sees blind i think. Okay so. walking around carefully. I. Submissive. There no more a we. Of course some stay happy in this twinge. sham marriage. woke up remember came out of a dream felt real, waxy leaves over a hole in the ground storing weed. we escaped the stampede. and it was all... where the wild things are. green and gold. breathe. now just for a second I'll get back to this.




Okay.
woke up walked on the hard floors, opened bathroom door, honestly i woke up late because I was scared to run into dominant energy. I. submissive. no more a we. scared of it becoming exaggerated in the presence of the mental build up. Again. Remember I cannot tell the difference between reality and my reality. So little notes on doors making sure everything is just so. No packages on the counter top and you can throw your recycled and paper-based compostable garbage in the garbage can because I do not want that in my compost.

I guess I am blaming my wounds on my grandmother's choice to move away from the water. I used to eat fish, in TWOS. We waded and bathed, it was salty.

Okay, walked up and put on my clothes, dreamt longer to stay in the comfort of the sleeping bag. feet fit short of the hole. where the weed was stored. we put waxy leaves on top to keep it dry from the rain. it was a GOOD idea. And I loved the way his large finger pushed over the top of the leaves the size of a fingernail.

woke up. walked to the bathroom, opened the door before I could look to the right so I wouldn't have to look. and the steam on the mirror reminded me how to be warm. Sat down at the table. when you're submissive anyone can tell you anything and you will listen to them. sit down at that table. hold your legs close together. don't cry. no one likes that. pretend I'm not here. You don't know how good a submissive is at holding grudges. But i forgive you gudrun, especially because you didn't really do something wrong.

I feel oppressed by the emptiness of that house. when my heart is already weak. And it's getting worse. I guess I might just not have enough Vitamin D, but seriously. For realz? Last time, I threw up outside the front of my door because I couldn't find my keys in time. Orange chunks of vitamin D on the grass. I felt like my cat(the one that vomits whenever she eats too much).

So much for self-regulation submissive. sensitive to dominant energies. But you don't like avoiding places, mostly because you did that for 4 months or so last year in olympia and it made you forget that this town had any love.

so much self-regulation submissive. and dominants are attracted to your energy. So they can dominate you while making you think it is your self. And it is. Because in a sub- dom- relationship two wills become one. And you submit. stamp your feet frustrated at it.

breathe in. you're not there anymore. in that pretty house. where orders are command, and remind you of a place not nearly as oppressive that you once called home.