how to win a civil war between your ears...

in the last week i've had 7 strokes...3 ranking on the major oscar award winning scale...
they're not strokes, says the well dressed physician in a voice that makes my eyes fight to cross...i'm just high strung, while my arms vibrate and hum and i clench my calves to keep from breaking the soothing pictures of mountainscapes scattered around the room...i just need therapy...and pills...and to make piles of the things that stress me out...and then categorize the piles...and then methodically pick thru them and eliminate the things i can't beat...but i'm sure what he's telling me to do borders on obsessive compulsive behavior and that seems contradictory...also, i'm not sure, because i need to do more research, but i don't think the salvation army accepts the donations i would like to give...
dusting a television set gives me a panic attack...watering my cherubic basil plants gives me a panic attack...returning embarassing redbox vids at strange hours to avoid being seen lands me in a full swing, red alert, axis tilting panic attack...
yesterday amidst several heaping piles of black lab hair and pink sequins i collapsed in the living room of my friend's house...i feebly army crawled to the base of her now mountainous toilet and with 30 to 40 panting sweat laden swear words managed to deposit a root beer and some bagel safely within the bowl...
what i wild and mischevious little imp the brain is...
that's a baby i might just shake...

drawing out your black square...

i let her braid my hair in two stunted rows that stick out like mid.winter tree branches...it's a midget forest....it's time to drink more water...grow up big and strong...
i once bit down on a glow stick at a school dance...when i dance, i dance like i'm trying to jump out of my clothes...my mouth filled with warm penny flavored liquid...i spit it on the girl making the face at my mishap...a few years later that girl decided she didn't want to be my friend, which i didn't mind because i thought she was too tall anyway...i'm a size.ist...
for a week i thought the glow stick penny goo was going to slowly taint my blood stream and eventually kill me at random during a class....if i had my way, i would have wanted it to be math...not just math...but algebra 2....the teacher was a drunk and kept beer in his bottom drawer....he was also the wrestling coach...and had terrible posture...i can't even tell you how he smelled...
still, if i saw him at fred meyers today i'd be more likely to say hi to him than most of my so-called friends....
tomorrow i'm taking my kinky slept-on braids and painting something on the neighbors fence....

white knuckle...red night...

mostly, i try not to think about it...but on the rare occasion that i slip and do--my heart beats really fast....

post a la post....

in the reflection of certain photographs my nose seems smaller....pinch the corners until desired image appears...

eyes burning...
inventory tedium shithole fuck....

asked for one more shot of whiskey....was granted a 27 minute life story...hands flat, parallel to ground, weighing it out...........and...verdict: i drew the midget straw......

devil takes knight...

i had just smashed your face into the snow...clearly you were hair-on-end furious but playing it off well enough...hmm's...riiiight's...you did your best to sweep those jarring but sensitive hairs back across your forehead...back to its well coiffed 5.30 positioning...black, sharp triangles....your knuckles were red...your shoe gaze stare was made of high mountain mid-winter lakes...we spoke of your father in a bar with a singing salmon placard...we did a shot of something neon yellow that tasted oddly similar to the pink goo they gave me when i had a stomach infection from the tainted unpasteurized milk fiasco of '94....what a fucked up year that '94 was...a few good albums put out...real bad style...mostly the earrings...a lot of hard, close to home tragedies....i flinched on the inside...my mom and i found a dog in the Waremart parking lot...my socks were red and rolled down just shy of the ankle...while you baby...you were chained to the bathroom sink making friends with arachnids.....

letters to the unknown with blank face...

remember baby...we bleed into one another...this is my watercolor...this is my ode to...there is a full blown kaleidoscope stampede of hues and tones and textures i have on this palette that i plan to throw at your empty vapid canvas...you cannot fight this...you won't know about it either but you certainly will feel the backlash...perhaps only in dreams that you pick up off the floor and scrape off the ceiling to decoupage back into a vague resemblance...no apologies needed...we can do this...and if you fight me on it - i'll kill you...

signed,
obsession

masturbating to classical music...

i've begun a new endeavor...the great search for an attractive deaf mute who has given up on everything because it's all too hard....everything except-frivelous sex...

initially i was planning to swear off sex altogether thinking that might slow the bleeding...i realized that this is silly because as long as whiskey and desperation still exist everyone will at some point have sex...and most likely it will be the most uncomplicated sex they'll ever have..but...also, and i won't pretend, the most regretable......(refer to: i spanked what with my favorite cd case and shouted, 'bring the pony into the corral! i said ride the fucking mustang into the corral!')

after lengthy innermind deliberations i've come to the deaf mute thing...i will have my friends to love and to speak with and laugh with...and i will have the cynical, relatively nice to look at mute that can never call me a dissapointment or accuse me of fucking someone while i was actually at the store getting stuff for dinner...