the big one.

rubble is hard to deal with. there's only soo much creative juice to be tapped from day to day. and when you've got to think of ways to make bikes out of wine barrels before breakfast, and figure out an irrigation system for the sustainable farm at dolores park by lunch, the juices are exhausted before you even get up. sometimes they've been tapped out for days.
but everyone seems to know that you asked for this big one to happen. you willed it into being. and now, it's kind of your job to give them all a better life. and even though you don't think it's your place to tell people what to do: they keep asking, anyways.
so it's not even a question of how do i assert myself, or why do i assert myself, but how do i come up with an adequate solution to the problem before my morning coffee?
and before she went to sleep, before her head allowed her a few hours, a grace period, between a harrowing existence filled with decisions and craft and managing and leading, before her left earlobe hit the pillow, she thought: why rebuild at all?

the big one.

avoiding hierarchical structure is tough when there are strict guidelines to follow, and an ideal to cement into the real world around you. there isn't any space left, really, for people to press their palms into the ground, leave lasting notes of love, footprints of encouragement; you ant the cement to harden before it even its the ground. and in essence, you don't want it to live at all.
see that's the problem with ideals. they don't offer any breathing space.
and when reconstructing an entire town, nay, an entire metropolitan area, and wanting it to fit into your ideals, you encounter some problems.
i mean, first of all, sometimes the goddamn trees don't want to grow where they should. so what if hunter's point is a nuclear wasteland? so what if downtown hasn't seen a viable form of natural growth in over a half a century? The glimmering sidewalks are even prettier now that they're riddled with cracks.

Tiger Mountain Peasant song

I'm turning myself into a demon. With each passing day, the baby buds on my forehead start to look more and more like horns and less and less like the ingrained pimples i keep selling them as to anyone who will listen. Why is it that the thing I want people to notice least is the first thing I mention?

basic folds and bases

There were creases in the folds of her work that would not bend the way they were intended to. Mountain folds collapsed into deep valley folds that sagged under the weight of neglected memories that were meant to be hidden between the flaps of paper crafted to expand and contract with her breath. Inhaling was a task too difficult for her paper-thin lungs to carry out.

Where the carbon in her cells should have met with oxygen in the air and released the meanness accumulated by the cycles of running through her veins, there was only the stagnancy of him. Written into the folds of her skin, the ink from his stories kept her firmly compact, unable to spread the pleat folds of her self to the open air and let it breath through her pores. Memories were the deep-seated anchor that kept her parked at port.

"researching english project"

old favorites.. eeeee!





twee twee twee

more.

second.

((((((((jeweled))))))))

english class.
acrobats.
bristle pine cone
forest.

woke up late.



and got out of town.





drove.

aaah!

i'm supposed to be researching for my term paper and instead i've spent an hour on photobooth, have written all over myself with a sharpie, drank lots and lots of tea, and looked up endless eve videos.

aaaah!

WHAT A FUCKING KID.

Wow. i have full confidence in feeling pretty private on here, so i just want to ventventventventvent. let it oouuuut.

por q necesito frustrarme en tal manera? esque quisiera irme y tambien volver y aveces visitar ese lugar en mi corazon una vez mas, tan solo para saber que todavia esta alli. pero quien sabra mejor que yo? y aun asi, no se. porque vi fotos? porque aun me siento tal? esque estoy peleando contra mi misma y en si veo mi problema. estoy llena de pelea en lugar de resignarme. aveces, pero mejor dicho, casi siempre soy yo la enamorada sin recurso. porque tratar de finjir otro rollo? es sin duda un estupidez tratar de pelear con si mismo.

DRop IT!

eh

i found christy road's webpage through her facebook which i found through the qocff page which i found because i've been spending entirely too much time online. what am i doing online so much? why do i keep staring at my computer so fervently as if it had answers to questions i haven't even begun to formulate yet.
today was weird. i was supposed to go to some house show but couldnt find the house, was supposed to drop off a kombucha baby but couldnt find its new mom, was supposed to give myself a haircut but instead shaved off quite a bit of my hair, was supposed to finish my hw but instead had a 3hour long discussion about poly love and loveless.
maybe tomorrow will be a bit more manageable.
but that isn't what i really want.

hah!

i posted twice in one month! i am getting better at this. today is a good day: it's sunny outside, i had french toast, and i finished another college application! oh, god of small things, i love you. really, i want to send you a thank you card with some flowers and maybe chocolates since its close to easter. sometimes you just wander into my mind and i think, hmm, so glad yr here.
ksrsly, it has been pretty good today. the kind of good i get from peace in the mind. thanks to my friend, michelle, my choices are a little more concrete and reasonable and i feel i cant stand on them a little better without feeling like i'm sliding off.
so i guess what i have to say is
NO, I don't think I'll be doing that. again.
haha.
finishing my mills application was fun, if only because it was so easy and quick and could change my life for the next two years and all it took was a half hour.
i'm procrastinating now, but that's ok, i needed a little break anyways.

BREAK!

So I've been working on my latest project all morning, and it's given me a headache. I've been messing tooo hard with it. I want to make mashups of riot grrrl bands with old school hip hop, and maybe some new school beats as well, but like any project, i want it to come off absolutely perfect on my first try, so I keep abandoning things that aren't mindblowingly awesome on the first go. Sigh. so i'm gona write about how hard it is to be perfectionist for a while. I think it's a sick form of masochism. Totally irrational, completely self demeaning, and absolutely tiring. If i was my own boss I'd be making snide remarks behind my back by now.
today i'm tired. i have lots to complain about and don't want to be the debby at the downer party. i think i'm gona keep to myself, make some more mediocre mashups, bake some bread, and get more sleep. oh, and go to calculus class. yee!
i've become really obsessive about checking my email today, mostly because i've sent off resumes to a few restaurants and i'm hoping someone will find me hirable. i do like working at the cafe, but i find myself worrying about money much more often than i'd like to. right now, i'm hoping zachary's will hire me back. it may seem like a step back, but i don't think it is. what's wrong with wanting to make more money at a place where i already know everyone and work well?
i bought a tarot deck at the anarchist book fair that i'm really happy with. that's been my other brand new loveable toy. i had been searching around for a bit for a tarot deck, but didn't really want any that i saw. this one's printed by eberhardt press, a rad publishing company? collective? group of kids? from pdx. the cards are designed by rad queers from up there, and feature gender neutral/gender transgressive folk. need i say more?
i've been listening to a loooot of tlc and destiny's child lately.. not as much as i did when i was a teen, but enough. when u mix them up with sleater kinney and bikini kill i find they compliment each other pretty well in some awesomely weird way. Maybe i should throw in some ooooold yeah yeah yeahs and some clash. then it'll be my highschool music playlist.
i've been thinking a lot about highschool, and how i totally sold myself out around junior year. i think a lot of that had to do with being told that i should just get used to being a loner, because that's what i'd be. i couldn't accept that at the time. what 15 year old wants to hear that even though they can't connect with people around them, and even though all they want to do is connect with people around them, they might as well get used to it, because that's their lot? yeah, though so.
i've spent a lot of time trying not to be a loner. it's been a fun, debaucherous, self- depricating, crazy time. seven years of binge drinking and lascivious grinding. i loved it. but i think that's coming to an end now. i want to use all that energy i put into that life into something else. and it's HARD. changing habits is tough. i find i can't use most of the 'tools' i took for granted for so long. so i'm stressed out more often. and i'm moody more often. and i feel bad for my housemates for having to deal with me letting go of smoking. i'm hoping by april i will be on a better role.
pros of not smoking:
-i smell better
-i'm not stuffed up
-i'm saving 10 bucks a week
-im facing the things that stress me out
-my persistent cough vanished!