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balance (2): October 2010

Thursday, October 28, 2010

fun at uj

what. what what. all my friends are mad at me for my emotional outburst about the guy i can't help but tolerate. and even yes love goddamnit. singing like a reggae master in the other room. stupid kids, they'll learn.... when you love someone you love them... ain't no room for anything else.... except for when love entertwines with hate (yum) and makes things exciting (regular sex outlet at least!).... well maybe there's a little too much hatred for myself, it's true, for being dumb and trusting. but if it is a choice between potentially being happy and being not, you choose the love every time, i say. ;)

we took a leonard cohen poem and turned it into a song the other night, when we made up, t and i. then we fucked like languid kittens. when we sleep we cling. this was a typical night other than a beautiful fight (in which i was humming, on ecstacy, and came across a message he wrote completely zonked out on a sleepy drug to another girl. i decided to throw him out quietly. i went outside and met a gorgeous girl of my own, on the porch step, with whom i commiserated for an anonymous and infatuated hour, while the neighborhood freaks traipsed by. she inspired me to be strong. i returned to my apartment and packed t's things by the door, for when he awoke from his daze. i snuck onto his facebook and changed his status to 'married', which is true, and evil. ;)))) but the days go on... mostly happy. :) he comes back around. he picks me up in his car. he cooks his signature weird food (the boy did go to culinary school) and talks about historic culture to keep me entertained. we snuggle. i make more of an effort to regularly escape him and do my own shit, like trying on fake eyelashes or staring at myself naked in the mirror.

i got a new job, in addition to my fleeting online romance with my real job, which i interact with hardly ever except to talk to my boss about her dogs. i am pretty much rich right now (probably why t comes back around). this new job is run by an israeli man with honest black eyes. i want to throw his stupid little japanese dog "sushi" at the wall and scream, and to hug his beautiful wife and blooming mother.... him i like, he's straightforward. i want to be his friend and help him which is an oddity when it comes to me and authority.... i also have a crush on my project manager, with his long island drawl and pink cheeks. good peeps!.... i feel constantly stimulated at the moment. by everyone i meet. and meanwhile i am doing some good work.

looking out my window at the funeral home, circled by taxis. thinking about freddy upstairs, who hasn't come down for a few days. i hear him moaning and thrashing and even screaming upstairs, but i am too scared to help him, which makes me feel vile. i have a crick in my neck and my heart aches. his elderly friend, jerry, comes by, doddling in his windbreaker, and tells me about his dizzy spells. he leaves packages of baked goods for his old friend, & nods to the neighbors with me, at the furniture store next door. i hope sometimes if i breathe deep enough they will all feel all the love in the building. <3

it's all good. i guess.

Friday, October 22, 2010


i had two warm multi-colored autumn days in which t and i took a road trip to the hippie town of woodstock, to a little cabin we had stayed in before, by a waterfall... we played with doggies of passersby, sitting in the sunny town square. we grilled piles of meat on the porch and got wasted and lolled around on the bed and giggled all night like idiots (once our first evil fight had sputtered out, ack- in the car for 2 hours in the dark on the highway upstate, my fault mostly.)

woodstock, ny

but that was it for the summer, and an instantaneous fall. now winter is kicking in and i start getting morose and bitchy. my fingers won't thaw until i step off the plane into tropical costa rica next month (necesito practicar me espanol). ditto my freakishly long nose. my eyes will be perpetually bloodshot, my lips purple. i start to resemble a zombie hag! sigh, i hate winter. shivering in the wind on my way to the shelter at the waterfront, or at the doggie park walking t's wife's dog (!...sigh again!). but hey, there is that trip to costa rica after all, and not too far off, mexico. and maybe thailand in january too. periods of warm sunny decadence just the way i like it. danger and sin. lush nature and intrigue.... meanwhile i will just snuggle and coo at my warm, fat, constantly spluttering, embarassingly sweet, sometimes annoying companion. have him cook & drive. try to get him to stop binging and make more money so he can keep up with me. do nerd things with him to keep us both stimulated. fumble about each others' genitals at night (squeal, sploosh, yawn). figure out which one of his lies is the truth. & reevaluate next spring... :)

at least that is what my nabe friend and i joke about, when i can snatch a night out with him. we are defiant in our mutual agreement not to fall into the relationship trap. the tedium, passivity, repetition. lack of variety! we have sworn to make each other go out and keep breathing and doing shit. that shit usually involves drinking, flirting with my navy boy friend c who is a master manipulator and a sweetie. we all spend a lot of time joking around about nazis. telling each other secrets. coming up with business plans (i do that with a lot of people. few of them go through).

...anyway i also bought fuzzy bunny slippers, and a crackling warm fireplace insert, and a heated blanket, and some sweaters. (i almost bought a warm persian kitty too- these days you can buy anything on the internet! but i came to my senses and he was sold before i got there anyway, phew!) . as long as i keep myself warm i will be ok in the winter :(.

my fireplace

i want to hole up and write about my life too i think. the 25 years full of lives, that happened before this blog started. they really are a lot of material, i just have to feel out the right voice. how honest should i be? that is my debate with myself. the honest story is the most interesting but also the most shocking to those who judge quickly based on little (basically you readers). which do you think i should do? i suppose whatever i do has been done. but i can't think about that part. maybe i should just write aimlessly until a pattern begins to form. yes i think that is the key.......................

Friday, October 8, 2010


what can i write about. that is the perpetual question right now. i could write about the writing course i was gonna take to hopefully jangle up my writing chops. but it was too expensive. & i don't feel like i should have to go to a course before i can write. i am a defiant autodidact, right? i just need a topic...and as much focus as i can muster in my shy pothead way.... sigh.

hmmm. now is a topic.... now i am sitting at my desk in my tiny little alice in wonderland office, which hangs like an afterthought off the side of my apartment. it is just after smoking a post-work bowl. through my window i am watching the leaves and the evening fall over bedford avenue. there is a long slow siren down at the navy yard by the brooklyn waterfront, wailing like the children of hasids (& probably doing so for some kind of jewish holiday). the bus roars past on schedule. my window rattles as a girl shrieks and giggles with a spanish accent below. i'm realizing again i have social anxiety, as i peer out at young, fresh, gorgeous, rich, people i feel inferior to, walking briskly past in the fall air - whistling, digging in their purses, holding hands and preening prettily. looking confident or busy or sad. smelling like sex. talking to their families on the phone. who are these abundant dream people of this hipster land? (so different from t's area of brooklyn with it's shopping cart street vendors). i prefer to watch them from safely inside, hunched over my laptop in the quiet warmth.... gotta hit up t's voodoo medicine man (his psychiatrist is from haiti).

t (otherwise known as "bf-of-sorts") i have forced onto his regular schedule of zoloft, which makes him less of a blabbering madman grasping for other substances (and me) to fill his holes, and more of someone who can carry his own weight of late. we are getting closer to having a normal sex life too (sigh... why me?!). we are planning future travels together, pouring over our laminated world map. we play racquetball in the park. we sit rocking and talking to each other for hours most nights, and scooting our bodies into each other as closely as possible. i adore him. purr.... but i feel myself moving on a bit, back to the licking clean of my own fur. can't believe any (dramatic) word he says. gotta remember that!

the writing class was going to be either on the topic of inventing one's own religion... or writing a memoir of one's life. i nose dived in my head towards the memoir, being self-obsessed. i have a hell of one brewing, whenever i decide to erupt and spew.... but the religion topic, gasp! challenging!... i shirk from religion normally, am pretty much anti-religion. anti- any kind of dogma or zealousness. no fanaticism for me thanks. no sales pitch. no literature taken as law spit out in long meetings at my broken and punished, prostrate figure, blech. i completely avoid thinking about religion as it reminds me of years of my life and people i knew, that engender misery and puking sessions.... but i guess i would want to adore life with my religion. not attribute it to anyone/thing but chance just yet. i would encourage people to forge their own paths with the idea in mind there is some purpose, like a guiding light, but the creator might not think or exist like we can comprehend with our language and science and senses, and it is futile to attempt it. a waste of time! and we may never learn that purpose of ours before we have expired.... so the goal is placing oneself only in the moment. now. make now good. enjoy it. be selfish enough to get what you want, but try not to hurt people. be honest. be positive. expect good things. plan and work for them. open up, and don't reject what comes in, but learn from it. remember that with the bad stuff comes lessons. and most of them are just you gritting your teeth and bearing them. or standing up for yourself. or recognizing errors. and love is important. love everything and everyone for being special. love your enemies but make sure they know exactly who you are. hate and love are the same, you can only begin to understand something by seeing both sides of the coin. but if everyone loves each other then everyone is loved....

yep. i should have been born a hippie, somewhere near hunter s. thompson and his motorcycle (watched a documentary on him and have a crush).

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