| HAR HAR |
[02 Jul 2009|03:09pm] |
a real entry soon, in which i divulge all my deepest secrets & reflect on my lust for cidre.
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| recent times |
[26 Jun 2009|11:45am] |
zz really likes to hit the nip hard.
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| planet z |
[24 Jun 2009|02:30pm] |
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i built a cabin in my sleep & slept even still within my dreams. i know that i covered all the windows to my bungalow with sheets to prevent being bothered. the only light in the place was emitted from the clock radio, tinny & green. i believe it rained, briefly. a person not named also came to the door looking for me. i wouldn't let him in.
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| O HAI! |
[23 Jun 2009|01:25pm] |
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for breakfast this morning: a full pot of black coffee & erasmus' julius exclusus. WATCH OUT.
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| today |
[10 Jun 2009|01:34pm] |
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i am the smoke in your clothes.
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| term of art |
[05 Jun 2009|12:18pm] |
tyranny of mechanical reproductions
(schjendahl on back, ny'er pg. 82)
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| one from the history books |
[07 May 2009|11:17am] |
sweet jesus. me at 16 or 17 with my first boyfriend chris (who preferred to be called flower) at angst coffee shop in clifton. was i ever that young?
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| too much dreaming |
[04 May 2009|04:07pm] |
last night i had a dream about reading the newspaper & can still remember some of the articles. really, unconscious? as if i don't read enough? don't you know this is how i spend my sundays - reading the l.a. times, catching up on whatever new yorker is on the table, clipping & filing coupons, letter writing, etc.
i am exhausted today on account of this. the sensation of pushing my mind's dreaming eye closer to the text to pull together the alphabet soup, to recall where i left off in this newspaper when interrupted by wayward teens who broke into my imaginary hotel room - how do i describe it? i suppose it felt something like turning the lens of a microscope until one's slide appears clearly?
ever consumed by the written word, am i.
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| bedtime with boethius |
[29 Apr 2009|11:58am] |
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last night i dreamed of a wheel of fortune, a ferris wheel that began appearing in the world's cities, materializing without anchor, that rolled through the streets picking up reluctant passengers for judgment. the moaning of the wheel, almost whale-like or of a war machine, is still in my ears. of course, i hid at a distance from which i could see the faces of the chosen people - there was a rictus of pain & relief, a strange mixture of atonement.
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| just call me hildegard |
[27 Apr 2009|04:25pm] |
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i spent the weekend either: 1.) scrubbing floors on my hands & knees 2.) surrounded by books. it seems i am two steps closer to becoming an anchoress.
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| so he will see it today |
[15 Apr 2009|12:07pm] |
happy (belated) birthday to the ever wonderful & sweet, ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) slowbob!
please, please feel better now, so that we may fete you at the bounty this weekend.
please? :)
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| inri |
[10 Apr 2009|01:40pm] |
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i love an overcast good friday! it is so appropriate. it seems i have made a tradition, too, of always dressing up in black & purple - colors grim, yet regal. let's put on jesus christ superstar & color eggs. i get to be mary magdelene.
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| feather lung |
[05 Apr 2009|06:44pm] |
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i am so sore from beating strangers with pillows. what a great weekend. photos, soon.
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| katharaverousa |
[24 Mar 2009|12:07pm] |
i am in love with constantine cavafy. yes, you are correct: i did just read the review of mendelsohn's new translation of his poetry in the new yorker, but fie on me not! this love will endure. his stoic sexuality is as a well turned marble calf on the capitoline.
oh, & does anyone else find it sad that the closest we can get to the word philia is bromance?
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| blech. |
[23 Mar 2009|02:29pm] |
i have a puss lined throat as thick as mink.
i have a tribe called quest in my ears.
i have a front row seat at the free clinic.
afternoon marauding.
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| served cold with lavash |
[18 Mar 2009|02:02pm] |
i am perplexed. while walking to work this morning, an eastern european grandmother - small in ways only the very wizened can be - approached me on the sidewalk & placed her hand on my lower stomach. you know, the soft pale strip that is exposed when pant & shirt simply do not want to meet? it is a spot for lovers to touch, not street elderly. she proceeded to rub my skin & to repeat something that sounded like burger.
was she commenting upon:
1. my apparent lack of properly fitted clothes? cover yourself, girl - have some modesty!
2. my non-existent pregnancy? (i think my stomach is quite flat, thank you.)
3. the fact that my first born will belong to her? (her fingers were quite spindly & cold.)
seriously. i wish there was an wikipedia for armenian culture.
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