foggy life

when watching lives becomes life, there's not much farther down it can drop.

each day starts with hope for better than the last
and ends with monotony





i'll see you soon, but i will be empty.

ugly pulsing

why can't you ever mean what you say.
I believe the words through phone lines, but the proof speaks differently.

when yesterdays whisper ugly

counting days takes so long.



i am trying to focus on the good things right now. like my new painting, or picking out which poems to submit for publication in Cadence. but I keep getting hung up on the papers, and lectures, and exams, and cramming, and alarm clocks, and dead cell phones, and lousy connection, and ugly memories.


^one of my drawing on s.sleevi's walls

today

never grow up

little stone elephant

I kept one on my dresser when I was little. it was beautiful; white and grey with tiny carved eyes and toes.
I wonder what happened to it.

whispering to myself

1.my sister, me, and our dog butkis 2.me modeling for a project in h.s. 3.me modeling in the courtyard in h.s. 5.butkis in a hairnet 6.me on a back porch when i still smoked 7.me after a cigarette in the shade of blue 8.old photo of the women in my family dancing.

lost the eraser

the sun is out today. it is nice.




i just wish it wasn't so lonely.

can you imagine working on a skyscraper

he knows when not to say anything.
and when to out of the dark say exactly what i always wished someone would say.










amazing weekend. cannot wait until the twenty-seventh

never had one

elvis costello: you never asked me what i wanted. you only asked me why. i never thought that so much trouble was restin' on my reply...



by s.sleevi

extremely loud

I read Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer last night. It was nice to see someone else, even if it was a character in the book, that appreciates door knobs. my grandmother and i love door knobs. i used to love to go antiquing with my parents to i could find old doorknobs.. it's so much fun to imagine what they lead to. maybe the bronze one with flower detail lead into the room of a woman with too much time and not enough love, maybe the tarnished silver one with the filled in keyhole lead to man who lost everything and refused to go outside, maybe one lead to what we're all looking for and we just don't know it.



anyways... i'm still trying to figure out information about this on campus publication so i can submit some poetry. but i was listening to Yo La Tengo, now that my record player is here, and wrote a new one.

beard mop on gnome
sends the boy in the white dress
and squeaky badger nails
when whole eye pupils jump rope
with trash can floss
and braided moss hair
with no poison
no not like ergot
they blame
for crucible sights
mane squeeze next to
juice box jokes
there are no more eggs
but a num num room
with kings cell free cell and the
alcoholic gene with
a button fly
and screaming wings with air torsos
so hissingly under
a red ski hat

ice wheels

some random pictures of winter stuff. trashed christmas tree, which always makes me sad. the immense amount of water that has frozen while draining from our building, and the river downtown.

winter has been a little bipolar recently. it always looks like its raining outside my window because of all the ice on the back of the building melting. then every other day there is more snow or everything freezes again.

the read came up for the weekend. show on the 31st which was great. after they played MTW djed for awhile, which was fun. then lily had an aqua dance party. at some point someone got a 40 broken over their head, but i missed that. then i sat up til 7am listening/talking with troy and lily. then after saying goodbye to MTW, they got the van stuck in my alley in the ice. I watched from the window. it was pretty great.

busy week coming up, but some interesting things going on this weekend. so it should be good.