indians, ebola, and fathers
My force is faint and thready somedays and vibrant and red and Ssssstrong others. I am a consistant inconsistancy and it's probably for the best.
I love(him)Everyone. So Delibritely and to the tips of my extra-emities and it's important, I think. Maybe.
The A, B, C's of my existence are not as 1-2-3 as I have hoped and webs weave and tangle themselves around my pink and weakening heart. but I beat on.
Patriarchs and Father's and the word Daddy have been a heavy happening of the week. I never called anyone Daddy and now he's on the other side of a phone calling himself [my] 'Daddy' and it makes my head hurt. And though it is a word I have never said, I find myself saying it anyway. An experiment of mine and word is suprisingly satisfying the tongue against the teeth, the push and force of it.
contrast to the purse of lips and humm of mother. of which i am so accustomed to thinking and speaking aloud and involuntarily. Mother is ill.
mother is ill and mental diseases are exhausting me and my head is heavy with all of her woes.
Writing and weaving and in the end is it only myself?
Hillary has ebola and I have spent the weekend pretending to be useful with Diet Gingerale and endless trips to Video Head Quarters. 48 hours I decided to spend in bed with her, and though I am supposed to be avoiding germs I felt there was no better way to spend my time then curled under covers with a feverish SoulSister who remained as funny as ever.
After she'd been puking into a wastebucket for about half an hour, she looked up at me- holding her hair back- vomit at the side of her mouth, snot dripping ostentaciously from her left nostril "This is what Love Means Katy"
Love Indeed.
I'm doing well. Classes are Fine, the way toast is fine, and clouds are fine, and stale coffee is fine- they will do they will do they will do. The only thing I want to do right now are the dishes.
I wonder if you ever read these muddled words of my world. If you frown and raise your eyebrows at my muck of mutterings.
inconsequentiial, truly.
I never say anything of relevance or importance, just tiny words and tiny aspects of a life that grows tinier by the moment. So frustrating to think Big and live Small.
the point of it it, as it always is, is Hello World.. Me. Me Me. I'm an Indian. Blah Blah Blah Sincerly, Katy .
that's all. the end. Goodbye.
I love(him)Everyone. So Delibritely and to the tips of my extra-emities and it's important, I think. Maybe.
The A, B, C's of my existence are not as 1-2-3 as I have hoped and webs weave and tangle themselves around my pink and weakening heart. but I beat on.
Patriarchs and Father's and the word Daddy have been a heavy happening of the week. I never called anyone Daddy and now he's on the other side of a phone calling himself [my] 'Daddy' and it makes my head hurt. And though it is a word I have never said, I find myself saying it anyway. An experiment of mine and word is suprisingly satisfying the tongue against the teeth, the push and force of it.
contrast to the purse of lips and humm of mother. of which i am so accustomed to thinking and speaking aloud and involuntarily. Mother is ill.
mother is ill and mental diseases are exhausting me and my head is heavy with all of her woes.
Writing and weaving and in the end is it only myself?
Hillary has ebola and I have spent the weekend pretending to be useful with Diet Gingerale and endless trips to Video Head Quarters. 48 hours I decided to spend in bed with her, and though I am supposed to be avoiding germs I felt there was no better way to spend my time then curled under covers with a feverish SoulSister who remained as funny as ever.
After she'd been puking into a wastebucket for about half an hour, she looked up at me- holding her hair back- vomit at the side of her mouth, snot dripping ostentaciously from her left nostril "This is what Love Means Katy"
Love Indeed.
I'm doing well. Classes are Fine, the way toast is fine, and clouds are fine, and stale coffee is fine- they will do they will do they will do. The only thing I want to do right now are the dishes.
I wonder if you ever read these muddled words of my world. If you frown and raise your eyebrows at my muck of mutterings.
inconsequentiial, truly.
I never say anything of relevance or importance, just tiny words and tiny aspects of a life that grows tinier by the moment. So frustrating to think Big and live Small.
the point of it it, as it always is, is Hello World.. Me. Me Me. I'm an Indian. Blah Blah Blah Sincerly, Katy .
that's all. the end. Goodbye.