[[warm like bed]]
this is how it goes.
i tried to post last night. at approx 1:02 a.m.
but eljay was not working.
so, just for my records, i am posting it now.
because if i don't, i will lose it.
it, being what i wrote, not my sanity.
someday somebody's gunna ask you
a question that you should say yes to.
once in your life,
maybe tonight i've got a question for you.
_______
a little drunk.
one.
please, sir, don't ever mistake me.
i am your superfan. and one day.
i hope you make you mine.
which i should have learned is only disaster for me.
and good stories for you.
but i am still young. and so are you.
two.
you, my translucent friend,
are mine. ten dollars or not
i am still calling you for my team.
kickball during the summers,
art, wine, and marble notebooks
when weather won't allow.
let's not make charming conversation.
three.
my typing is impeccable.
four.
the internet almost always
feels like a big padded room to me.
i can't make tails of it.
five.
"stuck between iraq and a hard place."
six.
i am scared by tomorrow right now.
i think a shower, two advil, and some sleep.
will turn that fright into excite.
seven.
damn, am i snappy.
eight.
you are the best person i know.
current mood: home.
current music: old 97's - question.
today, i saw masters.
which is like climbing back into the womb.
i feel sometimes like i have too many lives.
for now memories are worth it.
but really they turned the recycling room into
a fencing room. i didn't know how to react to that.
or to seeing willie block and john bracchita.
so is life.
it is nice seeing evita. because she is my sister.
and i love her. i almost missed it for a moment
when we were in the art room. i mean,
all those sharpies. all that colored paper.
then i laid in bed with boys and smiled.
and loved professional wrestling.
i am going to have a baby with a boy one day.
and he is going to act just like a girl.
tomorrow my charmingly vague cousin picks me up at
eight thirty(dear lord)! in the a.m. and brings me to the
guggenheim where there is a matthew barney that
supposedly takes up the whole museum or something.
(brian galderisi, matthew barney is the father of
bjork's baby, just so you know.)
then i have uncertain and long-lasting plans with my father,
i have no idea what they are. or what's up. or what else.
but he has me for as long as he says he does.
and then to hook up with ms. alana.
for whatever parties i am in time for and then
the estate for the cruisin' and the boozin'
for ms. legs *obin. yes. yes. yes. all should be well.
i should pack tonight.
i always pack. yes.
less than three,
e.
i tried to post last night. at approx 1:02 a.m.
but eljay was not working.
so, just for my records, i am posting it now.
because if i don't, i will lose it.
it, being what i wrote, not my sanity.
someday somebody's gunna ask you
a question that you should say yes to.
once in your life,
maybe tonight i've got a question for you.
_______
a little drunk.
one.
please, sir, don't ever mistake me.
i am your superfan. and one day.
i hope you make you mine.
which i should have learned is only disaster for me.
and good stories for you.
but i am still young. and so are you.
two.
you, my translucent friend,
are mine. ten dollars or not
i am still calling you for my team.
kickball during the summers,
art, wine, and marble notebooks
when weather won't allow.
let's not make charming conversation.
three.
my typing is impeccable.
four.
the internet almost always
feels like a big padded room to me.
i can't make tails of it.
five.
"stuck between iraq and a hard place."
six.
i am scared by tomorrow right now.
i think a shower, two advil, and some sleep.
will turn that fright into excite.
seven.
damn, am i snappy.
eight.
you are the best person i know.
current mood: home.
current music: old 97's - question.
today, i saw masters.
which is like climbing back into the womb.
i feel sometimes like i have too many lives.
for now memories are worth it.
but really they turned the recycling room into
a fencing room. i didn't know how to react to that.
or to seeing willie block and john bracchita.
so is life.
it is nice seeing evita. because she is my sister.
and i love her. i almost missed it for a moment
when we were in the art room. i mean,
all those sharpies. all that colored paper.
then i laid in bed with boys and smiled.
and loved professional wrestling.
i am going to have a baby with a boy one day.
and he is going to act just like a girl.
tomorrow my charmingly vague cousin picks me up at
eight thirty(dear lord)! in the a.m. and brings me to the
guggenheim where there is a matthew barney that
supposedly takes up the whole museum or something.
(brian galderisi, matthew barney is the father of
bjork's baby, just so you know.)
then i have uncertain and long-lasting plans with my father,
i have no idea what they are. or what's up. or what else.
but he has me for as long as he says he does.
and then to hook up with ms. alana.
for whatever parties i am in time for and then
the estate for the cruisin' and the boozin'
for ms. legs *obin. yes. yes. yes. all should be well.
i should pack tonight.
i always pack. yes.
less than three,
e.