dear Journal,
Mondays are such worthless days, and I've been wasting my Monday with plan hatching, tedious think tanking that includes myself and the cats. We are unsuccessful in making this Monday worth something because we believe, philosophically, that the abject quality of a Monday is not given, but inherent.
We feel much better about living in our heads now, which is nothing short of a speed boost for our anxiety.
The cats, they weave such a magical spell of illusion--that I could be one of them and sleep and not worry in between waking. On Mondays they dance and delight in making me forget that I am supposed to be doing people things--running around, creating, knocking down, twittering--I wonder if they love us because we are missing some parts.
well, anyway, sing before breakfast, cry before night. I wont be crying tonight.
Erin
8.10.2009
7.30.2009
7.25.2009
7.23.2009
I always forget the asparagus in the oven. A clever little trick I've learned--burn your food and lose weight. There's never any time for more.
Been sleeping alone and it reminds me of fruit flies and a full can of trash. When you have no one around to remind you that being inattentive is not attractive, most things fall to rot. I can imagine that life is beautiful when you are single, but only because you hate being at home. Well, go ahead, roam if you want to.
But one can only hope to be this elegant.
Erin
Been sleeping alone and it reminds me of fruit flies and a full can of trash. When you have no one around to remind you that being inattentive is not attractive, most things fall to rot. I can imagine that life is beautiful when you are single, but only because you hate being at home. Well, go ahead, roam if you want to.
But one can only hope to be this elegant.
Erin
7.09.2009
hello,
I've got a picture now, it is to represent the face you should imagine while reading this, please. Thank you, and remember to always keep my face in half-shadow.
Today I am feeling a mixture of intense emotions that are oscillating between extreme boredom and unjustified anger towards men, and then there is that itch for french fries that just wont go away. I have tried coaxing friends but no one is willing to entertain me with hand to hand combat or hand fulls of delicious french fries of all varieties--crinkle fries are my favorite, if you are trying to get on my good side.
Here is a picture:
I assure you that this is an exercise in literary warm up--How to exploit your period, stereotypically!-- After all, It would be a shame to expose you to premature insight when the author is so terribly under the influence of womanhood--and, as we all know, junk food is most often the only cure for creative atrophy and hungry, hungry hormones.
Erin
I've got a picture now, it is to represent the face you should imagine while reading this, please. Thank you, and remember to always keep my face in half-shadow.
Today I am feeling a mixture of intense emotions that are oscillating between extreme boredom and unjustified anger towards men, and then there is that itch for french fries that just wont go away. I have tried coaxing friends but no one is willing to entertain me with hand to hand combat or hand fulls of delicious french fries of all varieties--crinkle fries are my favorite, if you are trying to get on my good side.
Here is a picture:
I assure you that this is an exercise in literary warm up--How to exploit your period, stereotypically!-- After all, It would be a shame to expose you to premature insight when the author is so terribly under the influence of womanhood--and, as we all know, junk food is most often the only cure for creative atrophy and hungry, hungry hormones.
Erin
7.06.2009
Hello, Hallelujah.
I was hoping to incorporate physical memory in this--ahem--journal, but I think I have lost touch with the art of physical memory making. I found a website that creates collages but It's hard to remember things when they are bunched up, and tied with ribbons.
Well, anyway, I have been floating fairly well in these troubled waters of ours. I am mostly drowning in recipes and that is alright, I guess, as long as they aren't too time consuming. After all, I only like to drown for a short and reasonable time. Tonight I bought a grill, I made a good meal, and now I am tired and ill and in love with Watership Down.
I have rabbit dreams. Carrots and burrows. I live with a family, bucks and does, and care only about safety and which way the wind blows. I miss my crinkling nose and the language--the language, mostly--where love is a warm flank and endlessly running.
Erin
I was hoping to incorporate physical memory in this--ahem--journal, but I think I have lost touch with the art of physical memory making. I found a website that creates collages but It's hard to remember things when they are bunched up, and tied with ribbons.
Well, anyway, I have been floating fairly well in these troubled waters of ours. I am mostly drowning in recipes and that is alright, I guess, as long as they aren't too time consuming. After all, I only like to drown for a short and reasonable time. Tonight I bought a grill, I made a good meal, and now I am tired and ill and in love with Watership Down.
I have rabbit dreams. Carrots and burrows. I live with a family, bucks and does, and care only about safety and which way the wind blows. I miss my crinkling nose and the language--the language, mostly--where love is a warm flank and endlessly running.
Erin
7.01.2009
Hello,
The girl who has always appreciated a good opening is left with no way to open tonight. I have been drinking wine, I ate dinner and had a few friends over. I am feeling parallel to myself, as usual, and I have no way to connect the two lines, which is always a precious mathematical gem translated in literature as yourself and the inevitable horizon--You will never meet, you are oceans away, depending on where you live. In this case, I can't get past the street.
ho hum, and all. I am not writing this to be a bummer but a sort-of-geographer, who maps the whereabouts of myself at any given time. Without getting too new-agey, you know very well that you are never really here, but mostly over there or sometimes elsewhere. So I am in the streets, in the gutter precisely, but as one man once said "looking at the stars." With that said, Orion has always been a comfort, but mostly because it is the only constellation I can find.
Perhaps that why the summers feel so lawless. The night sky with its clouds look more like a t-shirt I own than anything vast. Vastness has consistency, fashion does not. You may disagree, even that is consistent enough for me.
But I do not feel particularly uncanny, or out of the ordinary, because I have always felt the summer to be the unknowable. What will I do this time? What will others do to me? We have suddenly become neighbors to the whole city because it's hot and the blood is hot and smokes out the good old look-out post! There are no icebergs, but dense packs of dogs in heat! woof.
Beware your night time extravaganzas, or love them for what they are.
Erin
The girl who has always appreciated a good opening is left with no way to open tonight. I have been drinking wine, I ate dinner and had a few friends over. I am feeling parallel to myself, as usual, and I have no way to connect the two lines, which is always a precious mathematical gem translated in literature as yourself and the inevitable horizon--You will never meet, you are oceans away, depending on where you live. In this case, I can't get past the street.
ho hum, and all. I am not writing this to be a bummer but a sort-of-geographer, who maps the whereabouts of myself at any given time. Without getting too new-agey, you know very well that you are never really here, but mostly over there or sometimes elsewhere. So I am in the streets, in the gutter precisely, but as one man once said "looking at the stars." With that said, Orion has always been a comfort, but mostly because it is the only constellation I can find.
Perhaps that why the summers feel so lawless. The night sky with its clouds look more like a t-shirt I own than anything vast. Vastness has consistency, fashion does not. You may disagree, even that is consistent enough for me.
But I do not feel particularly uncanny, or out of the ordinary, because I have always felt the summer to be the unknowable. What will I do this time? What will others do to me? We have suddenly become neighbors to the whole city because it's hot and the blood is hot and smokes out the good old look-out post! There are no icebergs, but dense packs of dogs in heat! woof.
Beware your night time extravaganzas, or love them for what they are.
Erin
6.30.2009
Hello Hallelujah,
Documentation has never been my best suit and the deck of cards I'm working with is singularly characterized by gaps where hearts and spades and club should be. Clovers and shovels and anvils and hovels, all down by the water fountain drinking from paper cones over and over. I have a ton of things sitting in my stomach and it isn't food-stuff, but flesh-stuff, blood-pumping-muscle-stuff that causes indigestion of the worst kind--love-stuff--and awful headaches of the best kind. Yes, it is that sort of documentation.
I can't help but think that everything is coming back to me, but I would like to ease into it so that I don't scare it away. My everyday is a warren of rabbits and they are all prone to uneasiness, scurrying amongst the internet data, and everything real in between. I am existing right now! I am making up things to do! I was born with extremely lacking motivational excellence! But at least I can write this and not feel hateful.
I am mostly that sort of sad that is a vine, which is to say that it is always creeping up my spine, but not without humor! which is where the analogy dies. I can grow wonderfully gloomy, and cause the seeding of many a bad thing, which then leads to good things and back and forth. Perhaps it is better to say that my sadness is more like boat upon the water and everything else is all washed up--but that is far too dramatic and it is not worth comparing your sadness to anything. Yes, this sort of documentation will always jump on a moral opportunity.
Erin
Documentation has never been my best suit and the deck of cards I'm working with is singularly characterized by gaps where hearts and spades and club should be. Clovers and shovels and anvils and hovels, all down by the water fountain drinking from paper cones over and over. I have a ton of things sitting in my stomach and it isn't food-stuff, but flesh-stuff, blood-pumping-muscle-stuff that causes indigestion of the worst kind--love-stuff--and awful headaches of the best kind. Yes, it is that sort of documentation.
I can't help but think that everything is coming back to me, but I would like to ease into it so that I don't scare it away. My everyday is a warren of rabbits and they are all prone to uneasiness, scurrying amongst the internet data, and everything real in between. I am existing right now! I am making up things to do! I was born with extremely lacking motivational excellence! But at least I can write this and not feel hateful.
I am mostly that sort of sad that is a vine, which is to say that it is always creeping up my spine, but not without humor! which is where the analogy dies. I can grow wonderfully gloomy, and cause the seeding of many a bad thing, which then leads to good things and back and forth. Perhaps it is better to say that my sadness is more like boat upon the water and everything else is all washed up--but that is far too dramatic and it is not worth comparing your sadness to anything. Yes, this sort of documentation will always jump on a moral opportunity.
Erin
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