on_days_like_this ClairE I wish I were an artist. The kind with the beret and palette of paint. I'm sick of painting pictures by telling stories. I'd rather just photograph the bar of blueberry soap in the shower, newly unwrapped, five minutes later with water condensed on it, ten minutes later with soap suds, twenty minutes and the faded blue of the skin appears on the bar. I also wonder about how the exact colors of blueberry are reproduced in a bar of soap, and want to be a scientist. I also think they should leave purple suds, but they don't, and I write a few lines about that in my head. I want to find an answer by saying there was the curve of my body, and the red sweater beside, and outside is November where people wear clean jackets and there's no snow but that's not an explanation. I don't want to feel sad in the shower because I'm entranced by the view of my body, and realize that I don't live in the moment, in vision. My life is lived in words, the unambiguous recitation of story to myself. It should be enough to take pictures in my head. I can't remember faces. 031126 ... birdmad vs the Sisters of Mercy CD ...in times like these... 031126 ... nom you are so gifted ClairE 031126 ... ferret you need your music turned up really loud. 031126 ... Borealis on days like these, my mind turns to spaghetti wet noodles thrown against a clean wall it taints its ridiculous its messy its a stupid habit mixing and twisting and turning and convoluting into something not myself, not my words, not my mind. I am not myself nor have I ever been I am a collection of memories imposed on me, ideas and ideals handed to me, and while it counted, while I was young, and growing, I did not know enough to turn them away and now in my running in my fear of handouts and catch phrases, in my turning from my family and my roots and my friends, and all that I know, yet despise I am no longer a whole person no more than I have ever been no more than I will ever be on days like these.. I wonder why I even bother to become something I am not... 040409 ... girl_jane I wish I had the guts to just get up and go. 040409 ... Piso Mojado i press my fingers on my wrist and feel my future pulsing 040521 ... pete on days like this we sing our songs, we smile up at the hidden sun and shout out our words and our machinations. on days like this the fires burn tall, the sage grass crackles and hisses as it has always done so many other times before. on days like this i walk alone, not unlike what i would do on any other day and i speak my poems composed as i go. 040522 ... pipers i don't know what to do with myself, i don't know what i'm thinking or feeling...i'm kinda lost. 040523 ... ClairE I am glad even for everything I lived through. It doesn't feel like everything is solved. It's even better: it's that whatever comes up, I can handle. We can handle it, together. 090511 ... unhinged i get hot sauce in my eye. i think that says it all. 090511 ... unhinged even the melatonin isn't helping me get to sleep 090531 what's it to you? who go blather from