(no subject)
all I care about is novels and christmas lights. I lied about turkey. I'm going to disappear into novels, starting with Ada. all I want to do is give coffee to the nice people of farmington and record spanish projects into tape recorders I used to use to make crazy cassettes with my friends in seventh grade. my first day of school in fayetteville in tenth grade was just like today, only in january. last night I read poems written by rilke in november. november sounds like a drug. as does september and december, they stick to your tongue and get inside your bones, replace the marrow. I'm ok with that. I have a lot of pain pills I don't want. I like being tucked in at night, even if I get scared and have to get up and lock the door later. this caffeine makes my blood vibrate. joanie last night I thought about snow and wanted to crawl under the comforter with the funny flower people and pretend that I am gold and red like the lamps in your room. lamp light. that is my aspiration, except I hate that word, and other abrasives like it.