biology

is it just me

or has everything been a little much lately

september is the best month. this time though i stopped drinking. for september. i thought i would discover something horrible about myself like i was actually an alcoholic but it turns out i just like drinking a lot. not drinking has not been hard except for the initial prosaic and ox-like determination to prove to myself... something. mostly i am more bored, and slightly more settled into my bones than i remember.

also i have found more fear in myself, of general darknesses that loom. i feel overly crude and clumsy, unable to see anything but someone dull, obese and middle-aged in the mirror, and howl at the awareness of my incessant dysmorphia while not being able to quiet it.

this got dramatic. i am really quite happy. i fear the slope to dark times is downward while grasping my hilt to battle. i have been baking more. i feel like my writing is always too prim, even when i say fuck and shit. i don't know how this got to be my inner voice. i am gearing up to be social again i sware. my birthday is next week. it is usually a day on which i end up feeling stingingly sad for no reason i can discern. twenty-five. my fortune cookie told me to go for my dreams but i am so afraid of student loans guys. news/thoughts of the future in general makes me want to go live in the hills even though laughably i am as much alive on the internet as i am off of it. avatars, etc. you start to feel the big furious boil of generations tumbling over each other. you get a little of the old fear.

boredom gnaws and prods. it feels ultimately indulgent to sate it. i have been reading about alcoholism and cultural alcohol consumption and discovered the most important thing booze does is promote myopia, i.e. it is so nice to shut my brain off to the noise and watch this tv or listen to this friend. the noise is so much. i was born near-sighted as hell, not as bad as some but worse than most. my natural state and ostensibly my formative infant state is/was characterized by myopic vision (a lot of meditative time has been spent studying the thread patterns on sheets). it is obviously not ideal but this macro-lens vision when i'm not wearing correction is deeply comforting.

i am really excited to have a drink when september ends. maybe i will crack that cider in my fridge on my birthday. for now i am boring. winter is coming, the time when i can think best in pictures and fetal twee poetries. that's okay.

fat athiest bridesmaid

I've covered bones already

a stain or a chemical
change, it sloughs or
leeches
I am not exerting any force
this voice dips and holds

unfold an old decalogue
mould the wire frame

run to safety
everything dilates
a round compass, a plus sign

injury from others
thrust yourself toward
a series of thrusts
a regular delirium tremons of a day

get aligned
spend years aligning
suffer from the animus,
mistake it for love,
mistake love for a self-fetish,
suffer from mistakes
pull it all down, break it

the trouble could be breasts,
cut off one tapioca pudding cup/bowl
to draw your bow string back, cut them both
so you can run without
a heavy flesh echo