shave

2001-09-12T23:29:00.000-04:00

Let's see.... haven't roamed much this summer. The company has held onto my pension money tighter than a ten year old. Wouldn't have been sooo bad if they had not "regrettably misinformed me of the availability of my vestiture." Bastards... Anyhow, since my embitterment, I spent most of the summer enjoying some of my fruitless habits. Now, I'm going to run... It get's me high like nothing else. No money, Visa on my tail, following through w/o the plan.....

2001-04-02T12:37:00.000-04:00

Three more days. Three's a charm.

2001-03-23T15:16:00.000-05:00

Cha Cha Changes.... are coming.

I should beat myself up for not writing for so long. I enjoy my little wordbank here. I won't hurt myself, though. I'm happy today, a nice peaceful, lung-filling-I-can-breathe kind of happy. I'm more close to contentment than I've been in a long time.

The sun is up, and the georgia heat is beginning rise over the Atlanta funk with it's golden haze.

I turned in my resignation yesterday. Good posture may return. I renounce my cubicity. Life is good when I'm living.

2001-03-05T16:54:00.000-05:00

Today, I am decidely unkempt. I didn't think to buy razor blades. I had no use for them during my weekend of sloth. But, monday mornings I definitely need a shave to pull my shit together. I'm one of those people who just will not wake up until they take care of at least two of the "S's." So, it's off to CVS after work today. I need to beautify and rejoin the living. I've got the bloat and a big-ass underground zit at the corner of my left eye. This is just not going to work for my photo shoot on Wednesday...

2001-02-14T15:57:00.000-05:00

Save Me - Aimee Mann

You look like • a perfect fit • for a girl in need • of a tournequit. • But, can you save me? • Come on and save me • If you could, save me • from the ranks • of the freaks • who suspect • they could never love anyone.

'Cause I can tell • you know what it's like. • The long goodbye • of the hunger strike • But, can you save me? • Come on and save me • If you could, save me • from the ranks • of the freaks • who suspect • they could never love anyone.

You struck me dumb • like radium. • Like Peter Pan • or Superman, • you will come • to save me. • Why don't you save me? • Come on and save me • from the ranks • of the freaks • who suspect • they could never love anyone.

2001-02-14T15:43:00.000-05:00

I'm sitting here thinking about Valentine's Day..... like everyone else in and outside of every cubicle in America. It is, after all, today.

WWJJD?

To quote the empowered Ms. Jett, " I love you, love. I love you true, love."

I will not postulate about the commercially contrived holiday. I will take advantage of the sanctioned opportunity. I will stop considering the ramifications. I will celebrate love and know it doesn't have to define my boundaries.... or limitations as they may be. I will not envy or regret. I'll wear my love like a banner and not shackles and chains. I'll love myself. I'll send out general 'love vibes." I'll become "General Love Vibes." I'll drink wine. I'll make love. I'll dance. I'll win for "Best Supporting," and I'll still have the longest run as lead in my own play. I'll run like a wild horse, but I'll allow myself to need you.

2001-02-09T09:35:00.000-05:00

experiencing the drama of the murmur

2001-02-09T09:20:00.000-05:00

living the rhythm
inconstant

2001-02-08T16:09:00.000-05:00

What is the word for a word that sounds like its meaning?

I must find out.....

And, don't tell me Onomatopoeia. I want a better word. The "Oh!" word is more connotative of definition number 1: the naming of a thing or action by a vocal imitation of the sound associated with it (as buzz, hiss). Although, it also means 2: the use of words whose sound suggest the sense.

Onomatopoeia is suitable for definition number one, and I do like the sound of its adjective form, onomatopoeic. The sound of the word just does not suggest its sense....

It's just wrong, wrong, wrongadonga.

Maybe it's just too fucking longa?

2001-02-01T14:57:00.000-05:00

Well, I'm no longer inert. It feels good. I might as well of hung in stasis, suspended in the air, no pupils, with white irises betraying my retreat from the physical world. That would've been more aesthetically appropriate for a chapter in my book. However, my co-author defined the reality. I, instead, felt my weight slide slowly against the magnetic push and pull of gravity. My aspect was confused, crusty, dissheveled, and my red-tinged eyes lived up to their reputation. The clock ticked. White springy hairs outgrew the rest of my head. Would I reach for the mantle of a human halo, or would I trim them? After all, vanity is one of my virtues.

I just couldn't answer this or any other question. Some part of whatever "I am" had decided that my objectivity would become ascendant and that I would reassess my value structure.... extrapolating on tangents and tangents and tangents. The other parts shrugged and said ," What the fuck?" "I guess it's time." They were no help what-so-ever. Where is Popeye when you need him? I yam what I yam and all that malarkey. ( Yes, I said "malarkey." The word malarkey makes me feel good.)

2001-01-31T16:27:00.000-05:00

I'm cleaning house at the moment. Opening doors to the Herculean flood of redirection. Spreading all the horse shit, from the horses that have eaten me. I know it's the same river.

2001-01-24T17:03:00.000-05:00

Grey days with sunshine.
Today would be one.

2001-01-23T17:09:00.000-05:00

I'm feeling pretty freeeeee today. Very nice indeedy.

I think I've finally kicked this damned flu bug. Of course, now I have to restrain myself from celebrating it's demise. About four Sue Ellen-size vodka soda's, a pack of cigarettes, some old subbacultcha music, and I definitely would be ready to pull up to the bumper, baby.

2001-01-18T17:37:00.000-05:00

I love my mother. She sent me a card yesterday. It says a lot. My mother isn't one to write much, but she should . Her sentiments are true and visually perfect. Her script is a testament to her life. It's firm, purposeful, yet elegant. It's lines dive low and ascend high. Refined and consistent, it has a scrawl, but seems to be the perfect scrawl of millions of evenly planted lillies bending, tangled, embracing in the wind. She could've been a 1950's-glamour movie star, my mother.

My mother, however, is not a writer. She's a talker.... which is good. She was easily reached by phone at her home in rural Hawkinsville, GA.

I called.

I was worried. My family is not known for outpourings of emotion. Note that I think a spontaneously written card is an "outpouring of emotion." Her card said, simply, " I would never rather have another son than you..... Love, Mama." Even though her timing was impeccable, and the card was the high point of a very decent day (I'd decided that I was going to do something very irresponsible- quit my job and roam out west). I thought, " God, I hope she's not sick."

I was relieved she wasn't... and guilty for having little faith. Not only was she in perfect health, she was very supportive. She assured me that I wasn't the victim of some errant synaptic firing, or some odd manic-messianic phase. She was the reassurance needed for the road I'd chosen. She breezed past my self-doubt. She didn't consider me odd. I considered me odd. I was her day-to-day.

I wonder who and where the son is that I'd chosen for her.

2001-01-17T14:42:00.000-05:00

How ubiquitous is the word ubiquitous? I'm sure it's connotation is indicative of how easily boredom can be relieved by merely an expression of its value. I would expound, but why bother?

2001-01-12T16:10:00.000-05:00

Callista sent me an email today. She said in my next life I would definitely be a rock star... a la David Lee Roth with buttless pants... and better hair. I told her thanks for her faith in my future musical talents, but I would prefer not to be found comparable to David Lee. I might've once shared the same pharmaceutical rep. Who knows? But, I , hopefully, will not age and become that remnant, a tattered piece of vinyl pants.... and I would never do a remake of "California Girls."

But, then I got to thinking.... I still have my vinyl pants..... hmmm..... change the words a little....... "California Leather Daddy?"

Who am I kidding? I could definitely be David Lee, it'd be a blast. I'd just have to do it with a queer, melancholy, euphoric-yet-poignant twist.

2001-01-11T15:04:00.000-05:00

History/New Year's Resolution

My earliest recollection of my serious lack of premeditation, I recall from the second grade. Class is taking place, and I, without conscious decision, walk. Walk right out the classroom door, that is... and down the hall before I'm stopped. That bitch, Mrs. Townsend, is leaning down in my face, and I'm up in the air.

Then, there's the graduation dream. My father and I look out over acres of green cut grass. It spreads out over red clay ditches. The living and dead contrasting and shaping the concentric path he made me follow. Water stands in the bottoms- reflecting a blue sky that sears my lungs and opens my eyes. He's wearing a red cap- not the green, John Deere. I'm not looking for more.

He lifts me. My legs grow long, spindly. Colt legs wobble, and hooves barely sink in the mud that I've been settled to splatter. The grass grows its long blades as hair on end. A mane of grass and straw, it's hairs cross and jump across the pasture.. waves against the wood. I run through the cold and wet that is spring and winter. The oak is still in the stream, and the snake awakens from its roots...

Seven years ago in New York, There were no tiny wings drumming, ripping from my chest. Nor, gossamer-like-steel spirit rending flesh, keening. I ran naked through a supermarket.

Here/Now, I have many dreams. I'll wait later to paint them in symbols... It's going to be an interesting year.

2001-01-10T12:34:00.000-05:00

Shaved my teeth. That's the first thing I did this morning upon dragging my congested, semi-recovered-post-party-depression-flu-ridden ass out of bed. As I watched the remains of the bag of oreos that had lodged itself in my teeth (somehow) go swirling down the drain, I realized the holiday party binge was at an end... and was glad. I then steeled myself and made it into work... an hour late.