[response to noticing internal parts of self no. 1] June 16 2025 10:47 am
Nothing
New
Old bones dry and dirty
Grimy oily with rainbow tears
The kind from an overly optimistic eighth year old
Hair down to her butt
And soon to be cut
Who pees fast
And wonders
When her Dad will come home
And why doesn’t he live with her?
And why did the girl on the stairs run away when she kissed her?
And only if I look deeply into the sun long enough
I could become blind enough to see again
I am writing more even though I feel like my writing is a farce. False. Ugly. Empty. Too serious.
This week a friend who I wish I was closer to broke into my other friend's apartment, kind of for the second time. It made me feel empty and viscous and sad and lacking the skills to really help or change anything or even be there for anyone but my daughter.
Is this stalking now? What makes an act malicious? Does one really need to understand what they were doing? What stopped them developmentally from not noticing when they are doing harm? How does a person learn the harm they are doing to others? Do they have to hurt too? Should someone break into their home? Or break into their mind which may be their real home. . .
I came up with a lot of reasons why this makes sense.
developmental gap, some problem in childhood which can be fixed except by therapeutic play
spoiled brat, doesn't know what it is like to suffer, so internally challenged by this incongruence so he plies himself to acts of harm to punish himself and take away the privileges his life is littered with
obsession, a new obsession a new gateway to control, an escape from the hell of past obsessions
ignorance, pure ignorance, not understanding what he is doing
malicious intent, knowing what he is doing, and doing it to gain closeness, attention, love, togetherness, attachment (however secure or insecure, reparative or destructive)
delusion, psychosis, and requiring some professional help to avoid involuntary institutionalization and to avoid the common institution for those with severe mental health issues, the streets, a true home for those whose minds generate fantasy-like spaces in the crevices of concrete reality
I have been thinking and observing, and as I think and observe, I shrink and fall faster away gaining distance from my sweet squishy beloveds, friends, and friend-like matter, and joy, comfort in being with. Being WITH!
but my eye bulb bulges forward nonetheless
the solution is simple. just create safety. just create structure. routine. normalcy. same old same old. get boring.
It might suck to be controlled by medications which bluntly mend your misbehavior, quieting the very things about yourself you love like extra cheesecake icing on a egg-free cupcake
but is your mind's freedom worth another's fear? Now we are talking feeling targeted, feeling, watched, feeling like no space is private. AND not involved in the harm the individual is feeling: tired, empty, lonely, lacking community, everyone already having a pack, and alienating those who love you Brilliant! Artist! because you showed them you are willing to hurt them to get what you want.
So how do i teach my daughter? to not get what she wants all the time? How do i provide her with the right developmental pieces so she doesn't think it's okay to harm other people.
That just seems more important than learning how to read. (And she has two parents who read in front of her, and as a parent who learned how to read at age 4, it seems that, she probably will absorb early reading without me trying that hard to initiate that).
anyhow
harm
is avoidable
in not every situation
Now I have observed and distanced myself.
Now I have disappeared.
Wetted my paper enough to dissolve it.
Gone.
I don't even remember who I am. I am nothing.
I don't even remember my own private thoughts to be made public.
Something about disappearing into the yellow wall paper? Remember that short story? Written by some mad woman? She might have also walked into the ocean.. If ocean was breath it might be okay...
Reminder for the things I want to do this week:
- Explore becoming a brathworked who mixes it into Expressive Arts Therapy (which is combining Drama, Music, Art, Poetry, Narrative, Dance/Movement therapy in one session, including at least one, transfer from one modality to another).
- How to gain confidence? I just remembered my own therapist is a somatic therapist.
- Figure out ways to sew someone in fabric on stage. How does one appropriately mic a sewing machine?
- Is it possible for me to organize my things better for performing so I don't get confused?
- Check on LAPC licensing
- Sign up for Coop Shift
- How to have moments of mindfulness in nature, when nature represents not needing to do anything but simply being?
how to be how to be how to be
be beat
how to beat beat
beat yourself stronger
- Can we dance? Should we dance?
JUNE 21st DANCING MUST HAPPEN
karaoke must happen
I WILL NOT BE DISAPPOINTED
I WILL NOT LET YOU DISAPPOINT ME
YOUARE NOTHING BUT DIRT CAUGHT IN THE CREVICES OF MY SOLES
I MUST FLY AND LEAVE YOU BEHIND
YOUR ANGEL FACE HAS TURNED GARGOYLE
I CANNOT BEAR TO BRUSH YOUR HAIR AWAY FROM YOUR FACE
YOUR EYES HAVE BECOME EMPTY TO ME
YOUR MOUTH IS JAGGED
I AM NOTHING IN YOUR CONDEMNING PRESCENCE
THERE IS NO JOY IN YOUR FIRE
YOU MAKE ME ALONE IN BEING TIED TO YOU
I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO LET YOU GLOW
I AM INCENSED DAILY
AND MY CIRCLE DRAWS MORE NARROW WITH EACH FOOT STEP
MY LOVE FOR YOU DOES NOT absolve THE HARM YOU CREATE BY RECKLESSLY
THROWING YOUR BIG HEAD AROUND AS IF IT IS TOO MUCH TO HANDLE
we all have big heads that are difficult and strange to control
we all lost the instructions
we are all similarly lost
we are all similarly condemned
we are each other
we.
licking up my arm a small caterpillar dines on the fuzz of my skin
some way of describing my obsession with my feelings
incessantly scratching me in my sleep, under my sleeves, in my hair little bugs
little larva spilling from my hairs
growing invisible dust like spider webs which you can see in the right angle of sunlight
or with a flashlight
or with these glowing scleras eye-shining
lucidum lucidum dum dee dum dum
death
death
death death
aching begging death fingernails scratching kind of death
on my dry lips cracking
broken communication spackling
white wall which consumes and smothers and suffocates
with the cotton
"she takes the cotton and stuffs her throat with the missile shaped fibers from the nasal inhaler"
"she takes the cotton and rises to the roof to see the stars at night, as her body just..."
I am nothing
You are nothing
and everyone who has big hair with nothing inside, just standing up with excessive air in between
such few strands held together with more hair spray than hair
"she takes the cotton and she wraps it around her neck"
for warmth
in winter
"she takes the cotton puts it in her ears and muffles the sound of her body"
she can only see its tears fall whetting her lips
tasting so salty
appetizing
salient
she immerses herself in the cotton
in the muslin
its fibers loose she can spread them apart with force even when her nails have just been cut earlier
that
day
"she takes the cotton and puts it in between her teeth"
stuffs the cotton in her mouth
both tubes
swallows the cotton and floats to the ceiling
shhhh
let me tell you a secret
my nails digging in the dirt for fun turning black the way i like it
dirty nails
smelly girl
and clay that gets stuck in the crevices of your worn down antique rings
it could be we are all running in a three-legged race
and we share a leg
and we also do not share a leg
and it is hard to even walk together
let alone
scream
when one of us is in pain
but it is easy to fall
like a limbless fish
shhhhhhh
