great warriors.

fevered ferver

**
standing upright (up tight) on its haunches,

changing inside, outside again
a polar cub switches and swaps out.
black beneath a snow white coat
with razor snarls and such kind paws

bounding forward filled up with wonder
shaky hands, shaking hands
lonesome lashes
tiptoeing fullforced ahead embracing great ghosts
grave ghosts, i have them in my pockets
i bring them with me wherever i go



why do i look sad in my eyes?
i feel ok. i feel well. my eyes today are sore. they feel puffy. i slept for most of the night and the day. i feel alright. i thought i might be coming down with a real case, but it seems to have passed away.

i was tired. i was sick. i was tired. i was sick.

i woke to good thoughts. i was in a blanket tunnel. kind of didnt want to get out. it felt nice. i liked it alot.

i will see my friends coming up soon. it will be a blur, but a sweet blur. the kind that keeps you thinking and missing and tiptoeing with a head full of clouds.

i just want to feel things the right way.

*momus posted this picture and i love it. this is part of the story i wrote to inform the photo. i kind of love momus. i like his clogs.

into the belly of the great beast.

i had a terrible dream.
i woke up and reassured myself that none of it was real.
i curl myself into a small ball when i sleep equally as small as when i feel cautious and in need of protecting.

its the same small ball which enables my disappearing acts.

digging in and escaping, softly tunneling, swallowing down its voice, taking in a billowing breath, the beast, it broke through its cage with one single shattering gasp.

how do you sleep with one eye open?

How to see faces in a window.

national pancake eating day. read it in the paper on the train. 

are your ears burning, pancake bunny?

 i have got an itch in my shell. a bounce in my skeleton. 

a friend was talking about seances and i laughed. and i am still smiling when i think of how it sounded and how my heart leaped into my sockets. and i had to shut my lids to catch it. 

blink. blinkity.

.. / .-- .- -. - . -.. / - --- / -.- .. ... ... / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ..-. .- -.-. . .-.-.-

Maniitsoq means uneven.

iwant to be there.

a seals skin, bones from whales and tiny reindeer partnered with stones, i want to be there. 

i think about it far too much. 

i just want to be there. 

i want to be there.

for what you're not.

i mouth these words on the train, from my heart traveling to my brains to my lips. lifting them from my guts to my eyes, closing, falling to my toes out the points that hold my shoes together.
i'll keep it with mine.

my favorite parts are the string arrangements. the low parts, thats the cello. maybe bass with bow. the high part is a viola. i can just tell. its very intricate. and then there is her voice, which is gravel. and the way she says the words "odd" and "help"...thats the part i truely love. makes my eyes tighten and slowly open. its like the medical scene of a gore movie. yow. those things make my wrists curdle like im about to pour bloody spouts. its not one of those sad songs that i roll my eyes to the top of my skull for. not so into those. nope. not at all.
i like this song.
i think youre a very nice song.

everybody will help you discover what you set out to find.

from the train, i walk the stairs. each step falling carrying my body. moving my limbs i challenge myself to not hold a rail, to trust trust trust.

i move through particles.

i feel pretty good.

digging a tunnel to china.

i wear myself out jumping on my bed. when i was a smaller creature, i treaded and shredded through bedsheets tunneling. coming through the tucked in part, i arrive and bound forward smashing matted carpets in persia, soaring high to land again. bedknobs, time travelers, mind benders. i love to jump on a bed. i always have.
i have an archive of bed jumping photos documented over the last million years.
it makes me happy.
i am happy.

i have a new song lodged in my head. its about people with nowhere to go. i am always going and not leaving. i like it so much.

the elegant universe.

a letter i read addressed to me reads as follows:
----
"in alaska there is town called whittier, where all the residents live in a gigantic concrete tower surrounded by mountains,the military built during world war two.
It's supposed to house thousands of people but i think only about 300 live there.
There is one other huge building, it's abandoned and populated with bears, and maybe some teenagers.
The only way to get there is by tunnel, the largest tunnel in north america."
-----

thank you.
it makes my heart soar.
i love you. you are my family.

i think about climbing.
climbing mountains.
sounds like a very tall accomplishment. i am climbing on a daily basis. losing ground, collecting stones putting the most treasured in my pockets. keeping them safe.

i have taken back to drawing things in the early awake hours. 

i also have taken to thinking way too much.


i am not a lamb. i am sheepish in a woolf's clothes. i will wear out.

i will plow the soil. i will tread lightly. i will stomp puddles. i will dust myself off and mend the many rips and tears that wear me thin. i will sleep, sleep, sleep.

i will break your heart. 

i will win your friendship over and over.


i will reflect light. 

i will be your mirror.

i will shield your pains. i will deflect their gaze. i will try my hardest to keep these things safe.

i will be paramount. i will succeed. i will overcome, overtake and i will give, give, give.

i will always give.

the tiniest sailboat to cross the atlantic.

that too.

weak stomach, iron heart.

i finally went to the doc today and he said that i have this ulcer thats making me sick. and thats why im tired but can't close up my head and call it a night. Last night I stayed up until 3. mainly flipping about, mapping out junk yards in my head. thinking up projects.



the dogs are going cuckoo in the other room, and im losing my lunch.

ive been thinking about pilgrims again. giving it up. making it count. pilgrimming. everyday the value of my collections, my tangibles, my needs lessen. what i mean is this...2 weeks ago my little yellow clutch bag got stolen out of my bag. it had my yellow ipod in it and my favorite green wallet, my favorite coin collector and some other crap....at the time i felt sad, but after an hour of being bummed i was fine. you win some you lose some. it serves me right for putting value on the truly invaluable. so what, those things are gone just as easy as they came. then last night, my phone slid into a melted ice mound and was ruined i liked that phone. it was fancy and pretty but im fine with this brick today. gone, as easy at it came.

all things gone. all things gone. didnt need it anyway!

i really like the way lou reed sings this one song with the v.u. he sounds like it doesnt matter, but you know it does. its just sweet. and calm. but there is a sense of trying. he is trying
i do believe, if you don't like things you leave, for someplace you've never been before.
i like it.


theres this other song i like more though.
i keep these things close.
a beginning. a middle. and end. I skip to the end. just beyond the end. focus. focus.
i read the last pages of a book and pieced the rest together.

when we were strangers

ive had this one song stuffed in my head. stuck there really stubbornly. ive been humming along to the train, to the voices chit chattering way. ive been watching hands on strangers, observing body languages, seeing what happens next, watching the pauses, reading lips.

ive been having nice memories, things ive seen that i am pleased to remember. i have many good stories in my library.

i am going to sleep, now. i am feeling well.
goodnight.

meet me here.

tiny inhabitant of a tiny village. meet me here and we can talk to eachother, without anyone listening in.

i miss the summer. running down wood stairs, barefooted, hopping outside, running down a street.
i miss tar pits. i miss impromtu everything.



the qualities of a tar pit are in its preservation properties. once i read about people who were frozen and crystalized from nuclear blasted heat, i didnt believe it. but i swear i saw the pictures. or i dreamt about it. the thought really breaks my heart in some ways, but in o\ther ways its a really beautiful thought to be preserved in time, at that moment, just like that.

just like that.
totally unaware. in awe.



meet me here.

the barringer meteroid crater

we are in the insomnia stage of this month. im praying its a short stint and im not even sure what brings it on. i tried to cut back on my coffee intake which makes my need for food become less and less. ive been snacking away on hand packed zip bags of raw spinach. i like the way it makes my mouth feel. i feel like a creature. i like that very much.



my heads been in the clouds. thinking about the way a meteor is. how no one knows it exists as it zooms through space and only when it reaches and passes through our atmosphere do we actually get to see it. and sometimes you can follow its course through and through and sometimes it just disappears.
and is that ok with me? not sure. thats what im thinking about.

i feel like im on an episode of the bachelor. like i have to prove myself or woo the hearts of many. but is that just not the fakeyiest fake that ever faked? im not that.
i consider myself pretty genuine. pretty up front but not in your face. and im not one to scream out "look at me!" pay me some of that attention you've got to give.

you have to give.
you have to give.


foggy brains.

the barringer crater.

it feels like a haunted house

it feels like a haunted house in here, only no strobe lights to make you dizzy and no matter how badly you wish and beg for the lights to be turned on...it might not happen.

but you don't have to pay.
you do a lot of waiting, though.