(there, I said it.)

I'm addicted to morphine.

(secrets/traps)

all the things that are occupying me, that i would normally type about here, are dead giveaways to things i'm specifically remaining silent about to the people most likely to be reading this.

i've been leaving notes sandwiched in my phone so i don't forget things in the morning on the way to work. they're scribbled on the backs of old receipts that i've dragged out of the trash by my bed. there is apparently an endless supply of receipts in that trash can.

i've been listening to shampoo suicide. i like it now because i'm just coming to terms with using shampoo, which is a little death, alright in that way. just interesting that shampoo can be significant and broken social scene sees it too. and how my hair shines! but how it is also sad. very emotional song, that.

(when we get together it's always hot magic)

hello (detox).

i've been busy (freudian typo: busty?). it feels good. the best thing recently has been taking walks, alone and accompanied in the neighborhood behind my house. i don't know who lives there, but they seem unfriendly. they open their door a crack and peer out, chain pulled taut. they're afraid of people outside. they're afraid of me.

at night, the curtains are drawn, as in curfew (etymology typo: couvre-feu). they could me empty, for all the evidence of life. in sandusky, i feel like i'm the observer, looking into gently lit parlors; watching people watch tv, work at their computer. here the brightest lights are the streetlamps over me, and it feels like i'm on display.

the main thing is just taking circles, letting my mind spread out like ice cream melting on a plate. it's relaxing, and it makes me feel like i am home.

this week will be relaxing, as opposed to any other week recently. i don't think i'll go out at night, opting instead to sleep and catch up on other things. maybe be a little healthy. until friday, when all hell breaks loose again until after the election. in this time, i'll sleep three different places, be in five different states, work a few days, see a concert, celebrate birthdays and holidays. even though i won't be thinking about it, my hair will continue to grow, and my gall bladder will continue to produce bile, among other things.

i finished the water next to my bed, so it is empty. i keep reaching for the cup, but then it's too light, and i know (remember) there's no water left.

new subject. dave nelson shaved all his body hair for his halloween costume, michael phelps. it was a good party, a good use of the house. dan bardo came. i took a walk with sameer. i have no complaint. this morning sameer and i went to ihop. nick and jose (the vagina) left. we played griffey. we might play blitz next time.

i'm done. goodnight

(P268)

[Macalister's boy took one of the fish and cut a square out of its side to bait his hook with. The mutilated body (it was alive still) was thrown back into the sea.]

(i want a patch of blue sky to follow me)

i brought back the apples in stereo's rainfall this weekend for my hannah playlist. it rained intensely for most of the day saturday, and it was great for sleeping in the afternoon. it was a funny remidner of the rain and fog in france, which i've revisited rereading the stories i wrote during that time. france has seemed closer talking to katja about the sparkling eiffel tower casting weird shadows in her kitchen and telling people how to dial 011 33 then the number.

it rained again today, so i listened to rainfall on the way home from work. i had a french flavored day today too. i went to the opnet shareholders meeting, since it was nearby (in bethesda) and the founders, two brothers, were whispering to each other furtively in french. after the meeting and presentation, i caught alain (the one with the flashy striped jacket) at the front of the room criticizing the pastries with his mother (meh, pas terrible. degeulasse, quoi!) and i told them they should be nicer to the bakers. realizing they'd been caught, they pulled me into their conversation, in which my actionnaire/actuaire joke fell flat. i guess corniness translates all too well. at one point, one of the other major stakeholders brushed by, saying 'quit speaking in french!' so angry. it was funny, maybe just because he had a moustache. maybe he thought we were talking shit about him. maybe he was the one who baked the sub-par pastries.

(all i'm saying for now)

here's what's happening

-stain stick is rentable vs. irish accent. aisling honls out. so does liz.

-the ipod swiveler points one way better than the other. currently, it's pointing the other. it happens.

-androgyny discussed. björk and natalie portman lead candidates.

-aisling's deep thoughts include time out on the porch. a detour from the path of life. that and turney says he just doesn't know how to wear jeans and squash is to raquetball as chess is to checkers. he's actually kinda wonderful. and living in haddonfield. it happens.

joanna newsom. liz squeaks. i have her read like anything. i like the walnut whales version better. it happens. (you know your place).

the blow bridges gaps. it may or may not be the key.

(pictures)

Look at these people getting married! Actually it's them cutting the cake. I went to two weddings. This is Preethum and Gopi. Preethum is bald.



look at this duck! It's in Naperville. Jane and Joe got married last weekend. Kim and I were on the river walk with Nathan and Gretchen and I told Gretchen to scare a duck so I could take a picture of its blue feathers.



Look at the baby! It's Jaxin (Like Michael). We ate lunch together and I taught her how to rip napkins.

(this is not a music blog)

But everyone needs this song.

Aerodynamic (Daft Punk Remix)

In other news, I am unendingly amused by photoshop disasters. What has been seen cannot be unseen.

Ima go listen to that song about 5 more times and go to sleep.

(one of these days i'll get a haircut)

there was not as much talk of goals this semester as last, so maybe it shouldn't surprise me that i look back at this semester and see much less drive on my part. maybe it should surprise me that things are still getting done. it could just be that my obstacles weren't as obnoxious or obvious. getting a visa is much less writing that a thesis, but the embassy and front desk staff at albert 1er were much more tricky than my committee. i was tired as anything after my interview at geico, but not like after the marathon. so maybe that makes this semester less intense. the other side of the hill, or something. and maybe i'll think of it differently later (and when it comes down to it maybe it's the other side of the valley. a steady, uphill climb out of winter opposing the harrowing [hand tense on the breaks] ride down in).

really i'm only half way there, at least in any official capacity. i got honors without incident on friday, but only a message from geico hr saying we had things to discuss. it seems positive, like every other indicator i've gotten from them, but nothing i can count on. i don't suppose companies are in the habit of leaving offers on voicemails. rejections too, for that matter.

(turnip into my shelf)

i think it's colder inside that outside. we got the HVAC ripped out and don't get any sun in here. it's nice when it's too warm outside, but right now i'm sitting with a couple of sweatshirts on. there's a nice cool spring breeze on the porch but it's like winter in here. the air isn't moving, like it's frozen.

i took a nice nap this afternoon with sara and we made plans to travel during reading days. söndering. i called anna, and she said we could come crash. from there, who knows. depends on what work we have and where people are.

at night i was out in the street and it was really quiet, cars rolling by on college ave. the lights from the houses was warm and dim. i found a possum, crushed open on the road. when i approached a baby was crawling towards the curb under a parked car. another was nuzzling under its mother, lifting a lifeless paw with its head.

(concert circle sandwich)

i was at first unitarian on march 26 for xiu xiu, and again last friday, april 25 for eisley. they could hardly have been more different shows, but that's not the real story, because there was a month of other concerts in between. they were each at a different venue, starting with cowboy bar in mechanicsburg, chameleon, starlight ballroom and the troc.

an intense month of concerts matched an intense month in life, which probably helped keep things sane, in the end. like driving in high school.

the other thing i was thinking is that first unitarian is a pretty ideal church. it's a great catchall for things that need a place that don't have one. it hosts homeless meals and a children's center during the day and small time concerts at night. cheap tickets, intimate setting, no bouncers. unless the crowd is obnoxious it's pretty much a guaranteed good show. it's funny, i don't think i've ever ran into any unitarians there.

(shot in sequence)

i guess i'm tired.

(neurasthenia and other tropical diseases)

saturday: as i was falling asleep, i heard the whistling from amsterdam coming from someone's speakers in some other house.

sunday: i have no memory of this day. it's like the shattered planks of the airship after the floating continent. it's going along until there's just jagged splinters and a green-haired girl hanging on.

monday: oxfam poster meeting session devolved into anagramming. 'cream her beef' results. it turns out memphis really can't make free throws. too bad they couldn't have chosen the michigan state game to choke.

tuesday: stager smells like fish, which turns into a day long conversation topic. katie leach complains about in class work. i'm listening to human after all on my ipod. the blend of diversion and novelty.

wednesday: i have two glasses of water on my desk. they were empty, and i filled them. they will be empty again.

(ready for too much after all)

The most important part about moving my bed was clearing out the dust bunnies from underneath. Other than that it was just a sock and program from the philly art museum. By bed is under the windows like your bed is now. That's the idea i got, along with having different colored covers and beach towels for bath towels.

I'm listening to hot chip and daft punk. that's to replace, though not entirely, air and ac newman. i'm doing something both wednesday and thursday nights, though i have options for both, so i'm not sure what. it's either ewf or concert in both cases. concert's more exciting but reading is more relaxing. for this month, at least, concert will almost always come out on top.

I'm excited about this room because it feels like I can move out of it now. It has broken from its mold. I'm disoriented turning around in my chair. I'm no good with anything that's too constant, I suppose.

(plus plus)

i was listening to the air song over and over. it's raining outside. you called during class. i've been busy. i've been happy. that's what happens when it's spring. maybe something to do with forgetting. getting pushed under by the weather.

i haven't stopped being thirsty in a long time. i wonder if it's something broken from drinking too much water back in the day. maybe i eat too much salt. or else i just like the feeling of being filled with water all the time. i think of people not drinking and it just feels dry.

that's the thing abotu this third section. it's got to be here, but i'm really just done. i'm already thinking of what's doing next. je songe à veiller un peu, travailler. cormir tard, me lever satisfait. avoir fini. c'est un bon rêve. la liberté.

(i won't rest until i forget about it)

lebron recently became the first black man on the cover of vogue. cue controversy.



i don't really feel like commenting. just putting this out there.

(best thing i've heard in a while)

the biggest danger to giraffes in captivity is lightning

(they will never understand how washed up you feel on the land)

dooooo doooooo doooooo dooooooo do do doooooooooo
doooooo dooooo doooooo doooooooooooooo
dooooo doooooo doooooo dooooooo do do doooooooooo
doooooo dooooo doooooo doooooooooooooo

(meeting the architect)

it happens that i'm taking a nap, like i sometimes do, in my bed in my clothes at noon. another thing that happens with surprising regularity, I wake up in the sun, very sleepy. when i come back inside, a man with a thin chain and a green shirt is doing work on the house. he's cleared out my room and is messing with some plumbing by the back door. he says the landlord says it's cool and that, furthermore, it's a 72,000 dollar property and as rich people, we can talk about that. he's working on retiling the main room, but then he comes to me and says our pump's busted. i'm still so very tired. i tell him i'll let the landlord know or he can ask himself. he keeps talking to me about the pipe, but i've go to go to class. i hope it's still sunny out.

(an urge to put things in parentheses)

i was just remembering arguing with a docent at musée marmottan about whether or not a monet was hung upside down. it was a funny conversation. he was affable and expressed himself well. he brushed off my suggestion and tried to explain how it really wasn't upside down, but i imagine him going back later and looking at it and turning his head sideways and not being so sure. i wonder what a physicist would say, if they would measure the angles and say that due to gravity the vines must have been hanging one way or another. maybe something with optics, how it must be or not be a reflection in some water.

a little over a year later my sister took me to jamba juice. maybe that's a story for another time. i can only hold so much at once.

(eventually there is nothing else to do but sleep)

my favorite food is spinach, onions, balsamic vinegar.

i'm getting reäcquainted with the hypnagogic life, thoughts of fiery boobs flashing neon across my brain while alan levine is trying to explain functions of random variables, integration by parts and u substitution. by the end of class there's nothing there for him to erase. when i get home i dream that i'm very sleepy and fumble at the doorknob before collapsing at the base of the door. the hard wood feels nice and steady at my temple, and there are exciting things in the mail. i'll just wait until thomas comes to help me. three slices of toast and then another 80 minutes of alan levine. it works out better this time around, and my meeting with lisa is longer and more languid than usual, though at the end she surprises me by warning me to get to have a lot done by our next meeting. i have no plans for the next four days and maybe i should.

(typical roommate interaction)

i emerge from the bathroom in my underwear, wave my hands and incant 'mlungisi siyabonga bhegiwe dlamini!' thomas, on his way from the kitchen with a bowl of cereal, recoils, grumbling mouth full 'whatever..'

(she wanted you to spell out her name in giant letters on the quad in the blood of your ex-girlfriend)

today has been inördinately productive. i woke up at 8 to move my car for street cleaning and went running too. it's warm enough to make me angry about climate change, but mostly only when i'm running through clouds of exhaust. i talked to alan levine and van gosse and got down to work on my thesis. i've written about a page so far today, with more to come. i took breaks to eat, do dishes and look at things on the internet. now i'm taking a break to write this, but really it's to go to class in five minutes.

i haven't formally mentioned it, but i have two goals for this semester too. last time it was the marathon and the visa, and i got both done (like glenn ross says, by hook or by crook). This semester it's writing my thesis and getting a job. i'm half on both horses right now. i'm not worried too much about either, but a little, anyways. they're big enough tasks that i can't count on them accomplishing themselves.

next week i'm writing about the stranger, so i'll probably have to reread it this week. that's pretty pleasant as far as academic reading goes. is why i'm studying it, i suppose. to class!

(that wasn't such a good version of that, but, anyways, here's another song)

in december, my sister and i tracked down the wall from the cover of figure 8 near the corner of fountain and sunset in LA. here's what we came up with.

(firm hand, gentle heart)

"stop rubbing poop in my wounds," is what Thomas would say when Sara or I would do a hostile takeover on one of his contracts (especially after he'd gotten some bad news from the wall street journal). We were playing Technopoly. We've been doing that a lot recently. it's a funny game, about managing the cutting edge of computer technology. funny because it's from 1991, so there are supercomputers with half a gig of ram. the best contract is a black budget project called 'ashtoreth'. To my knowledge, it's made up for the game. it's a good concept though - a secret defense project code named after an ancient goddess. i wonder what it could be about?

also: gentle hand, firm heart?

(finger on the pulse)

i forget the first time that it happened, but last semester in analysis, when i was most bored and ready to fall asleep, i found myself tracing an EKG in my notes. it would proceed for a few beats, then break up and flatline.

i asked around and went through some tests. there's nothing wrong with my heart. but sometimes when i'm running i get relaxed almost to the point of sleeping. sometimes i notice a heaviness left side of my chest. it hurts but i dont want to stop so i go faster.

now, when i'm sitting very still, i can still feel it beating soundly beneath my ribs

(inauspicious)

i haven't posted here for a while, but i have been writing this

then again, if you're reading this than you've most likely already read that. anyways, i'm back.