December 25, 2012

  • I am literally so depressed that I'm in love. fuck this shit. I'm gonna text my neighbor tomorrow and wish him happy holidays. I listened to the pogues for the first time and it moved me so much I'm moving to ireland forever. I will be the first female writer worth anything. Toni Morrison and me. I don't care. you're more concerned about what's cool than what's real. I pray to god every day I could just be on the back of a horse again. riding in the moors bareback on a gray mare. I don't care the things I'm into is the things  you're not. He never loved me and never will. He never saw me as human and never will. I am an ant. I am a piece of gray stone. I will never be something that can be loved. No one will ever love me. I'm back again in the bed. The same bed I was in when he taught me that I wasn;t human. This is the exact opposite of how I felt when I was in Egyptian Cotton sheets hovering over the streets of boystown. This is the exact opposite of how I felt when I was banking on the side of a mountain. This is the exact opposite of how I felt when I was on a train to Amsterdam reading a magazine. This is the exact opposite of how I felt when I was standing at the bottom of Notre Dame. I am a shit stain on your backpack. I don't have a good story to tell. You told me that. I have no stories worth telling.  You took me and scraped my blood on the side of concrete. You were carving a pumpkin and I filled it with blood. I am a mare and you are the field with no gate. You are telling me to ride into the ditches where the germans will shoot me full of lead until the blood runs like little rivers and tributaries. You are the goose who ate me and bit me and drowned me in the lake that I couldn't get out of because of my mental disease. I carry so much mental disease. I cannot live I mean nothing to you. I am a fuck bug. I am a fuck thing. I am so little to you that I can't crawl out of the sand pit. You are a cobra with a great hood. You are a venomous thing. An adder. I am at your beck and call. Ricki Tikki Tavi. You bit me back and I can't escape the poison. I am at the bottom of the whirlpool sher khan. sherlock you've figured me out you wolf. I was the man who brought you home from the arctic winds and took you into my study. but the night I came home with the broken limb you bared your teeth and ripped into me. There is still a part of you that is wolf. Maybe all of you is wolf. I am unsure but the thing I feel ripping into my fingers into my hand is wolf. I am the boy who stands in front of the two men; one is my father and he beats me every single day and the other is a stranger who is rich and a sultan and will never beat me, but if I choose the sultan he will kill the man rightfully my blood...my father. I am truly screwed. I am a selfish witch who watches her husband befriend an injured sparrow and the sparrow offers him a gift. There are two boxes and he takes the smaller one. I, in my feminine stupidity crawl to the sparrows cave and demand I have access to the bigger box-the gold and riches. I watch as my limbs are torn apart by demons who lick my pussy with the end of a cactus covered in sticky molasses. Oh hell of hells. He has not studied the classics or the new works of anyone. I don't even think he's read Eggers or david foster wallace he must know NOTHING, nothing of willy lowman crawling on his knees begging for a blowjob from the corporate world. Dirty old town, dirty old town. I am a mere weasel in this mix, no ricki ticki. To make my bread? I am Beret Girl. I am a stalk of wheat. Here we are and you have won sir, you took my dignity and dragged it into a capsule of time that I will never unlock or understand. I am a mechanic in the wall of machines. I am sitting on the edge of the island laughing at the white men because they only have sex on top of their women no other way. I coined the phrase "missionary position." because that's the only way they'll do it. I am a cat and you think that because you only have one life instead of 9 that you know more? You're only a dog. No part of you is wolf. Not a single lick. There is no instinct in you for kindness, bravery, teamwork, boldness. It is all following. You are a follower. A tiny little mechanic. The machine can work just fine if you're whipped out. I will laugh at your funeral. Dance upon your grave. When King is there to give your eulogy no one will hear because they'll hear me singing. I will sing upon your grave and sing beautifully so that people feel sick. And when I sing it will mean that everything you did to undo me will be undone. You have lost.