the love of form is a love of endings

It'll just be a poem. Anne Sexton makes me cry.

Wanting to Die

Since you ask, most days I cannot remember.
I walk in my clothing, unmarked by that voyage.
Then the almost unnameable lust returns.

Even then I have nothing against life.
I know well the grass blades you mention,
the furniture you have placed under the sun.

But suicides have a special language.
Like carpenters they want to know which tools.
They never ask why build.

Twice I have so simply declared myself,
have possessed the enemy, eaten the enemy,
have taken on his craft, his magic.

In this way, heavy and thoughtful,
warmer than oil or water,
I have rested, drooling at the mouth-hole.

I did not think of my body at needle point.
Even the cornea and the leftover urine were gone.
Suicides have already betrayed the body.

Still-born, they don't always die,
but dazzled, they can't forget a drug so sweet
that even children would look on and smile.

To thrust all that life under your tongue!-
that, all by itself, becomes a passion.
Death's a sad bone; bruised, you'd say,

and yet she waits for me, year after year,
to so delicately undo an old wound,
to empty my breath from its bad prison.

Balanced there, suicides sometimes meet,
raging at the fruit, a pumped-up moon,
leaving the bread they mistook for a kiss,
leaving the page of the book carelessly open,
something unsaid, the phone off the hook
and the love, whatever it was, an infection.

i am sick of seeing bob marley's face.

(I really am.)

I've had a really irritating weekend. I used to always moan about the filth of Milwaukee but I've really realized this past weekend in Madison that the city annoys me. Self-consciously hip, maybe, is the best way to describe it. I like the authenticity of Milwaukee. The post-industrial-ness of it and the dirt-covered beauty is very unique. It is very emblematic of the Midwest. I am going to miss it next semester.

I have noticed that the homeless people in Milwaukee are getting more bold. It seems like the care less about getting money and are more just looking for conversation. On Friday, I was crossing the street after getting off the bus and a man darted across in front of traffic. There was a homeless man waving his arms wildly at him, and shouting, "What the fuck, man!" He looked at me and said, "That guy just crossed the street without looking! And he wasn't even wearing a coat." Honestly, I have no opinion on that. I have nothing to say and I could care less about this guy's wardrobe choices. Some other man is always at the bus stop in the morning and he is always telling me about his turkey sandwich. He seems terribly lonely, but I do not want to have a conversation about the ratio of mayonnaise to mustard in his turkey sandwich at ten in the morning. I've been avoiding that particular bus stop the past few weeks because of this, which is a bother, but I don't want to be confrontational.

The church people seem to be out in hoards as well. Three times this last week I got into arguments with Mormons and such. One guy handed me a pamphlet that told me I was going to Hell and asked me if I was a Christian. I said no and he continued to try and convince me to come to his side. Why would I become a Christian in five minutes? The argument they always use is, "If God doesn't exist then where did all this beauty come from?" I can appreciate beauty without seeing some sort of being behind it. For the sake of argument, if there is a God, he/she gave me the ability to intelligently question my place and meaning in the world, thus he/she would want me to look critically at religion. Besides, the label "God" is a human construct and automatically makes "God" finite. And how can a finite being (God) create other finite beings (humans)? It's not possible. Anyway, I was trying to say this to Elder Smith and he kept repeating that the burden of proof lies on the atheist, which is absolutely infuriating. I see no need to try and explain my lack of belief in any higher being because Christianity is one of the newest major religions and that leaves the burden of truth on them. Then he gave me some flier that showed a garbage can full of dead babies. Really persuasive. I really take to fear mongering.

Anyway, so excited for London.

my stomach feels small and there's a taste in my mouth and it's no taste at all.

It's been a strange week.

Strange and amazing things I've seen:
1. Ed Hardy sweatpants (less strange and more vomit-worthy)
2. Ed Hardy lighters (see above)
3. A squirrel in my apartment
4. Projectile vomit on my front porch going in an upwards direction (probably from Ed Hardy paraphernalia)
5. Happiness (ie "Sure son, I'll measure your penis for you. I already roofied and ass raped your 12 year old friend. Why not?!")
6. Homeless man standing in the middle of the street making up lyrics to Miles Davis
7. Recent price reduction of Snuggies. I am seriously considering getting a leopard print one. The new commercials with an anthropomorphized dog in a Snuggie reading a book about himself have swayed me.
8. Doug Martsch in a Kurt Vonnegut shirt

Overall, beyond the strangeness, I've been bouncing between incredibly irritable (cursing at my shoes, keys, phone, etc.) and joyful. It's fucking cold, but I found out that I'm going to FUCKING LONDON in three months. I'm so excited to be immersed in film and music for a few months. And cheese toasties. That's really it - cheese toasties.

I like jeans.

Jean Pierre Leaud, in particular.

my warm blood

I think bad things always happen around significant dates. My birthday falls on the inconvenient time right before school, so any sort of happiness is overshadowed by the stress of the upcoming semester and, as is the case this year, moving.

Also, I know it's a cliche, but I am also heartbroken. Today, I feel truly alone.

fleshy free and flowering

"We will take off our clothes and they'll be placing fingers in the notches of your spine"


Though they're probably about dissecting Jews' backbones, I think those words are so sexy.

so much beauty in dirt.

I think I've managed to stay away from the stupidity of celebrity news for the most part, but I will admit I've been finding it pathetically entertaining lately. I have taken more of an interest in it than I'd like to admit. First off, I am sick of America getting such glee out of this Jon and Kate affair. Despite the cuteness of the children and my slight admiration of Kate's brassiness, I am sick of it. E! did some ridiculous special called, "Jon and Kate: Twisted Fate" which basically exploited the fact that neither of these people seem very contented. Kate did some sort of media circuit apologizing for making her husband look bad and simultaneously calling him an idiot. Look lady, I think you're a pretty despicable person, but please just announce your impending divorce on your show. I would find it far more interesting than watching you berate your husband about a coupon. Anyway, the amount of time spent making said E! special is pretty annoying. The combination of five minute interviews with five year old neighbors and romantically fogged stills of their wedding was obviously meticulously thought out.

Well, now that I've proved myself to be completely inane and worthless, I'll transition to something more substantial. My boobs have gotten bigger and I am disconcerted. I haven't got many other things to worry about these last few weeks. Due to lack of job and apartment, I moved back home. Somehow, I thought the job market/economy was going to be slightly better here. Of course, I'm just has jobless here as anywhere else. My blob state has been surpassed by constantly horizontal state, as well as being coated in a thin layer of cheese dust from Whole Foods puffs. I wake up with mascara goo smeared all over my face and put on the same cheese-stained tank top, play the Sims 3 whilst eating Nutella with a spoon (repeat for about five hours) and then watch some horrendous VH1 celebrealty dating show. ("Daisy of Love" is a beautiful medley of hair extensions, eyeliner, venereal disease and corsets [and that is just the men].) Repeat. Really, I don't mean to sound like I'm complaining, because I actually enjoy this uselessness. It's a nice break from Milwaukee, I guess. Plus, Milwaukee gave me the fucking swine flu.

The Yahoo! headline today is "Lady Gaga's missing pants" and "Paris' fake bake". The internet is so enriching.

Also, I think my dog officially has cleaner hair than I do. I also share her prodigious and slightly sinister-looking eyebrows.

Currently listening to: Trigger Cut/Wounded-Kite at :17 - Pavement