cool.

all day today there was a beautiful antique wooden mantle-mirror thing someone had left for free on the corner. It was a little banged up and heavy as fuck. I told myself if it was still there when i got home, i'd take it in. it was, but I didn't until it was raining and i remembered it was out there getting all wet.

i accidentally popped the mirror out when lugging it up 3 flights of stairs. behind the mirror is a pristine copy of The Chicago Daily Tribune from 1901. I fuckin ripped it pulling it out though, so mad at self.

update: here's a crappy webcam pic of the beast, sans mirror. i love vintage newspapers, god. QUININE.

springtime friends

pretty lady squirrel who visits every day for seeds (and only eats the sunflower seeds, as you can see). I gave her a dab of chunky peanut butter today and she's currently having her mind blown. as long as the window's down she is not afraid.

i miss having a camera. webcam squirlpics suckkkk. Just for fun let's have a photo of window cat from last fall. I don't have any recent photos but man he gets fluffy like a snow lion in the winter.

some hai kus

i.
decide whether to
mine or harvest, stretch a chord
and reach conclusions

ii.
boots look more like feet
in them than shoes, so you got
married, don't whisper

iii.
stretch you some and reach
conclusions, decide whether
to mine or harvest

iv.
stop it you monster
crimp me every direction
i will be neutral

film-stills: fish tank

yet another in my recent string of films featuring tragic young foreign girls. this one: so good.

Written and directed by Andrea Arnold -- it was funny how this one kept reminding me of Red Road before I knew they were by the same person.
notes while watching:
looking out of windows
hating the group because you are an outsider
"if you came back as an animal"
they all chose wild and strong, monkey, white tiger, eagle
the animals around them are chained to man's will, horses, dogs, hamsters, fish
he caught the fish with his bare hands

girls feeling trapped, young girls with more magic and power than anyone around them who are still somehow powerless

you got my jam

((bonus japanese punk time courtesy of Hi-Standard))

I want to sing again, I can harmonize so good.
I/you have been so afraid of having to be the me/you that you/I think I/you am/are, but I/you don't (have to).
So what if I/you ____, so what.

a nightmare

My new job was a receptionist at a white trash hair salon run out of an old mansion. A little boy showed up for his appointment with Tanya, who was in the basement smoking and laughing with other stylists. I shouted "Tanya your one-o-clock is here!" several times but she and everyone ignored me.

Then, I was at home and there was a blizzard raging outside. On my living room floor was a rubber toy pig, bright yellow with red details, the size of a football, perched with stiff cheer on rounded hooves. It made me uneasy so I chucked it out the window into the snow, watching its trajectory into the alley. When I turned, the toy pig was peeking at me from around a corner. Startled, I threw it out again, harder. Relief was fleeting; the pig reappeared next to me on the couch, and the unease grew into quaking terror. Then began an inescapable nightmare in which the pig continued to show up just when I was sure I'd outsmarted it. I got rid of it a dozen times, convinced myself I was awake and it was just a dream-pig, and then there he was, the most awful, frightening thing I'd ever seen, like the doomy breath of thanatos. The yellow pig began zooming ghoulishly across the carpet at me. I jammed it into the oven and turned it on, watching (the oven spun like a tumble-dryer) its features burn off. The pig came back. Finally, I tore into it with my bare hands, ripping the latexy yellow skin to shreds. I woke up around this time.

the sea and a safe land

this morning i dreamed of traveling under the ocean in a tv-show like cast of characters. we had a vast submarine ship each with our own themed chamber, and went on dives for treasure that were haunted by bus-sized shadows of sharks. if you pressed a button in my chamber a sleek bloodwood box opened and small golden tree emerged draped in my finds: strings of pearls and baubles. "these will lead me to my mother," i explained to my companions.
We found ourselves in a bay surrounded by two arms of rock that met like hands cupping the tiniest opening where water entered and left; the suction created at this opening by the waves and tides meant it was always a tornadic deep-blue whirlpool groaning and roaring. a scientist stood next to it and said to me "The morning glory" and we accidentally fell in a few times and did not die, but it was terrifying to ride that immense power.
Inland I became conscious on a farm, hiding peacefully behind barns and buildings of corrugated metal, playing with nothing like a child. I came out and a man was staring off into the field and said "More haymakers," gesturing to the laborers.
I then was back in an industrial nautical setting, all steel walkways and handrails. many people I knew were there; it was the size of a city but became apparent it was actually a ship. I found the edge of the ship which was not 30 yards from the next ship over; our planes moved against each other like a 2-d scrolling picture show and set up along the edges were all kinds of watchers and entertainers; musicians bleating instruments and sensual androgynous dancers pleasing everyone's eyes, but everyone was only looking across at the other ship's wares instead of enjoying their own.

tqid/lltq

Last night I dreamed I got bison faces tattooed on each of my shins, surrounded by feathery green leaves. I kind of regretted them, but only because of their permanence; my inability to replace them with something new eventually.

the black hair is still foreign but deeply soothing, it feels safe like protection, relief, a cipher, a hole, a cloak. but it is raveny and silken too.