Sleep may cause turbulence.

I love trying to pet my cat
when he's too busy keeping clean
so his eyes widen and ignore me
whilst searching
for something in the room that could offer
a decent excuse in avoiding my touch.

What I wrote on my bedsheet:
ink smells like
rotten mango skin
& this cotton knows all the
puke underneath

Lightening keeps flashing in front of my eyes. Maybe it's a hidden camera. Maybe a dolphin just got electrocuted.

this is not everything we've got so far

we were opening our limbs out to
be vulnerable for
what's falling from the sky.
we were rotating and gliding like poison does
in my glass.

deers spy on us when we're sinking in dusty couches
just to make sure we don't break each other's spines.

this artificial fruit juice tastes like deer jerky,
my hair is getting too long,
i should saw it off with safety scissors
or a rusty chair leg.

when i smile, my eyes ripen and die
like bright balloon plums on overdrive
(it's cyclical and anti-cosmetic).
but when my lips are stained red, my eyes explode
in a crazy spinning way
with a liveliness that makeup can't ever afford.

sometimes all you need to do is
touch at the chunky bile stains on your school clothes
so you can finally feel safe.

the power inside you raced against your ages,
your ages of growth,
cracking through your blood and skin
begging to come out
and be something more.

you look like a stripped tree of your own muscles and bones,
(not anyone else's)
sitting behind a fully-stocked hardware store,
with rings daily disturbed
but still trying to grow.

stop calling yourself names.

sometimes we drive through dangers
that we can't see before&after.
they're not made of uptight harelips,
cornered children
or apple wastes,
but close.

i know what i'm talking about, but probably won't
6 years from now.

Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides

Zeus liberated all living things from an egg. Ex ovo omnia. The white flew up to become the sky, the yolk descended into earth. And on Greek Easter, we still play the egg-cracking game. Jimmy Papanikolas holds his egg out, passive, as Chapter Eleven rams his egg against it. Always only one egg cracks. "I win!" shouts Chapter Eleven. Now Milton selects an egg from the bowl. "This looks like a good one. Built like a Brinks truck." He holds it out. Chapter Eleven prepares to ram it. But before anything happens, my mother taps my father on the back. She has a thermometer in her mouth.

As dinner dishes are cleared from the table downstairs, my parents ascend hand in hand to their bedroom. As Desdemona cracks her egg against Lefty's, my parents shuck off a strict minimum of clothing. As Sourmelina, back from New Mexico for the holidays, plays the egg game with Mrs. Watson, my father lets out a small groan, rolls sideways off my mother, and declares, "That should do it."

The bedroom grows still. Inside my mother, a billion sperm swim upstream, males in the lead. They carry not only instructions about eye color, height, nose shape, enzyme production, microphage resistance, but a story, too. Against a black background they swim, a long white silken thread spinning itself out. The thread began on a day two hundred and fifty years ago, when the biology gods, for their own amusement, monkeyed with a gene on a baby's fifth chromosome. That baby passed the mutation on to her son, who passed it on to his two daughters, who passed it on to three of their children (my great-great-greats, etc.), until finally it ended up in the bodies of my grandparents. Hitching a ride, the gene descended a mountain and left a village behind. It got trapped in a burning city and escaped, speaking bad French. Crossing the ocean, it faked a romance, circled a ship's deck, and made love in a lifeboat. It had its braids cut off. It took a train to Detroit and moved into a house on Hurlbut; it consulted dream books and opened an underground speakeasy; it got a job at Temple No. 1 . . . And then the gene moved on again, into new bodies . . . it joined the Boy Scouts and painted its toenails red; it played "Begin the Beguine" out the back window; it went off the war and stayed at home, watching newsreels; it took an entrance exam; posed like the movie magazines; received a death sentence and made a deal with St. Christopher; it dated a future priest and broke off an engagement; it was saved by a bosun's chair . . . always moving ahead, rushing along, only a few more curves left in the track now, Annapolis and a submarine chaser . . . until the biology gods knew this was their time, this was what they'd been waiting for, and as a spoon swung and a yia yia worried, my destiny fell into place . . . On March 20, 1954, Chapter Eleven arrived and the biology gods shook their heads, nope, sorry . . . But there was still time, everything was in place, the roller coaster was in free fall and there was no stopping it now, my father was seeing visions of little girls and my mother was praying to a Christ Pantocrator she didn't entirely believe in, until finally - right this minute! - on Greek Easter, 1959, it's about the happen. The gene is about to meet its twin.

As sperm meets egg, I feel a jolt. There's a loud sound, a sonic boom as my world cracks. I feel myself shift, already losing bits of my prenatal omniscience, tumbling toward the blank slate of personhood. (With the shred of all-knowingness I have left, I see my grandfather, Lefty Stephanides, on the night of my birth nine months from now, turning a demitasse cup upside down on a saucer. I see his coffee grounds forming a sign as pain explodes in his temple and he topples to the floor.) Again the sperm rams my capsule; and I realize I can't put it off any longer. The lease on my terrific little apartment is finally up and I’m being evicted. So I raise one fist (male-typically) and begin to beat on the walls of my eggshell until it cracks. Then, slippery as a yolk, I dive headfirst into the world.

"I'm sorry, little baby girl," my mother said in bed, touching her belly and already speaking to me. "I wanted it to be more romantic."

"Fast Car" Xiu Xiu

you've got a fast car
i want a ticket to anywhere
maybe we can make a deal
maybe together we can get somewhere

anyplace is better
starting from zero got nothing to lose
maybe we'll make something
myself, i got nothing to prove

you've got a fast car
i've got a plan to get us out of here
i've been working at east side's health centre
and i've managed to save just a little bit of money

we won't have to drive too far
just across the border and into the city
you and I can both get jobs
finally see what it means to be living

you see, my old man's got a problem
he lives with his prescription drugs and that's the way it is
his body's too old for working
his body's too young to look like his

my mama went off and left him
she wanted more from life than he could give
somebody's got to take care of him
so i quit life and that's what i did

you got a fast car
but is it fast enough so we can fly away
we gotta make a decision
leave tonight or live and die this way

remember we were driving
driving in your car
speed so fast it felt like i was drunk
the city lights lay out before us
your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder
and i had a feeling that i belonged
i had a feeling i could be someone
be someone
be someone

you got a fast car
we go cruising to entertain ourselves
you still don't have a job
and i work in the market as a checkout girl

i know things will get better
you'll find work and i'll get promoted
we'll move out of the shelter
buy a big house and live in the suburbs

i remember we were driving
driving in your car
the speed so fast it felt like i was drunk
the city lights lay out before us
your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder
and i had a feeling that i belonged
i had a feeling i could be someone
be someone
be someone

you got a fast car
i got a job that pays all our bills
you stay out late drinking at the bar
you see your friends more than you do your kids

i'd always hoped for better
maybe together you and me would find it
i got no plans, i ain't going nowhere
so take your fast car and keep on driving

i remember we were driving
driving in your car
speed so fast it felt like i was drunk
the city lights lay out before us
your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder
and i had a feeling that i belonged
i had a feeling i could be someone
be someone
be someone

you got a fast car
but is it fast enough so we can fly away
we gotta make a decision
leave tonight or live and die this way

balloon heaven

i was middle-aged and business-normal
i was holding a little girl's hand
and she was holding a big red balloon

we were walking in the crowded city sun
the sidewalk was making us move faster

a man jumped to his death nine buildings in front of us

i told the little girl to release the balloon
so the man could go the heaven through it
while people ran past
with open, gasping faces

I can't afford this.

I took a bite out of my icecream.

When I looked back at it, I saw strings of blood.

assssssbhhat

i spilt wine in the hallway

but my body
is too numb
to do anything
but want to puke

i guess, like my girlfriend said,
"i am plugged into my body parts too hard, like maybe you are"

I can smell your angel smoke and it's choking me to Heaven.

Known as the "wise women", they inspired and assisted in the murders of an estimated three hundred people over a span of fifteen years.

In fact, some women decided to be rid of more than just an inconvenient spouse and began to poison other annoying relatives and even their own children. Occasionally they poisoned one another. Just before Marie's hubby died, she got him to sing for her. Knowing he was poisoned, she listened to his sweet voice. In the midst of his song, he clutched his stomach and was soon dead. Giving testimony years later, she seemed to think this event rather delightful. Maria Varga killed seven members of her family, considering the death of her husband in particular a Christmas present to herself.

Because Fazekas' cousin filed the death certificates, when officials poked their noses in to check on the sudden rise in the death rate, she showed them that everything was in order. This one was a drowning (a poisoned woman tossed in the river), and that one was an illness. There were no doctors around to make examinations, so who was to say differently?

Authorities considered that theses women had been gripped by madness for fifteen years, brought on by their promiscuity. They were at a loss to otherwise explain it.

source: Nurses Who Kill Their Patients

a cold cement wall prompt

the cold cement wall is my best friend. he's strong and open-minded. when he tells me his stories, i listen. when i've got nowhere to look, i look at him, and he starts to shift and change colour hues. or maybe that was just the effect of clouds passing by.

a day is just a day: cold sunshine and dirty floors. yesterday, after i ate my cereal, i went up to this wall.

i made an inviting hug pose against it, and then i leaned my head back and jolted it forward for a long crack at my eyebrow ridge.

i sat back down and laughed. whenever i touch the crack in my face, i start hearing that laughter in my ears. ringing and ringing.

I don't want to be your big, happy balloon.

i don't want to be shaped like an unborn being, not struggling hard enough to crack its shell because their only strength is imaginary

but what i do want
is to be over you like i'm rooted in the sky
and i do want
to control your blood flow

and you better not get used to it

i hate it when people can't cope with fictional characters

Every time I bite down, I can feel my wind pipe tickle.

Beck, "Missing"

I prayed heaven today
would bring its hammer down on me
and pound you out of my head
I can't think with you in it

I dragged all that I owned down a dirt road
to find you my shoes worn out and used
they can't take me much farther

something always takes the place

of missing pieces

you can take and put together even though
you know there's something missing

the sun burned a hole in my roof
I can't seem to fix it
I hope the rain doesn't come
and wash me down the gutter

she rides in a car like a queen on a card
and the guns of her mind aim a line
straight at mine to a heart that was broke

tried to feel but got choked in the smoke of
a desert
a beach with no leisure a night that's so blue
feed the aching in you and the background

birds take a flight from the earth
where the bonfire burns and the night
current turns on a lifeboat floating
down a river of sleep

I can't see her hollow eyes

I'm walkin along with my boots full of rocks
I can't believe these tears were mine
I'll give them to you to put away in a box

something always takes the place of
missing pieces you can take and put
together even though
you know there's something missing

something always missing always
someone missing something

i only showered because i thought that i was beautiful

"

i miss you

you are beautiful and i wish i could have kept you in my pocket for forever

too bad you're free

and that i believe in freedom

"
lexxi leigh

God Bless Our Dead Marines - A Silver Mount Zion

They put angels in the electric chair
The electric chair, the electric chair
Straight up angels in the electric chair
The electric chair, the electric chair

They put angels in the electric chair
The electric chair, the electric chair
Straight up angels in the electric chair
The electric chair, the electric chair

And no one knew or no one cared
But burning stars lit up their hair
And burning stars lit up their hair
And crawled to heaven on golden stairs

And oh, how we to and fro
To and fro, to and fro
Oh, how we to and fro
To and fro, to and fro

Oh, how we to and fro
To and fro, to and fro
Oh, how we to and fro
To and fro, to and fro

This our torched estates
We're your sweet mistakes

And all them vulgar kings on their dirty thrones
Who among us will avenge Ms. Nina Simone?
And all them vulgar kings on their dirty thrones
Who among us will avenge Ms. Nina Simone?

There's fresh meat in the club tonight
God bless our dead marines
Someone had an accident above the burning trees
Well, somewhere distant, peacefully
the vulgar princes sleep
Dead kids don't get photographed
God bless this century

The hungry and the hanged
The damaged and the done
Striving 'long this spinning rock
Tumbling past the sun
Get through this life without killing anyone
And consider yourself golden

Lost a friend to cocaine
Couple friends to smack
Troubled hearts map deserts
And they rarely do come back
Lost a friend to oceans
Lost a friend to hills
Lost a friend to suicide
Lost a friend to pills
Lost a friend to monsters
Lost a friend to shame
Lost a friend to marriage
Lost a friend to blame
Lost a friend to worry
And lost a friend to wealth
Lost a friend to stubborn pride
And then I lost myself

I love my dog and she loves me
The world's a mess and so are we
She tumbles 'long green muddy fields
Sick with joy and glee
And as she dreams sweet puppy dreams
Whimpering gently

There's fresh meat in the club tonight
God bless our dead marines
Someone had an accident above the burning trees
While somewhere distant, peacefully
Our vulgar princes sleep
Dead kids don't get photographed
God bless this century

When the world is sick
Can't no one be well?
But I dreamt we was all beautiful and strong

When the world is sick
Can't no one be well?
But I dreamt we was all beautiful and strong

When the world is sick
Can't no one be well?
But I dreamt we was all beautiful and strong...

tiny green and pink swell cut in the middle of your bowl-rimmed flesh

dad was yelling at me about how i should stop laughing or he's going to pull me over so i could catch the bus back home because you know how nobody's allowed to be happy over stupid things
we were in food stamp traffic and i was looking at the beach that they were going to build a mcdonalds on
and i saw a guy in a wheel chair at the public shower
his leg was blown off and he was laughing with this kid who was dancing on a puddle of cement water
splashing him

a top hat, a red bow tie

Because, before you know it, the wall of Everybody Sucks will rise up again and won't budge.

Just like our mothers say: "There's no reason to misunderstand anybody but me!"

you don't believe me. god, you do this every time.

I won't complain about how much I tend to love people, and it's too fun acting like I'm always playing the passive role.
[Even though I never am.]



I don't know what to eat. I don't know what to wash my hands with - spit or other peoples' words. I don't know which copy of the exerpt I'd better enjoy reading.
Will it be the crinkled, mad copy, or more like the cleaned-up pretentious one?
Which won't hurt me the most? Which won't slow my pacing down to make me think I'm just born like that?

I had very low self-esteem only once and it's never coming back again. My addiction to different mirrors was just as filthy as the cloud season. The dirtier the mirror, the more attractive I became. Everyone knows that it's the same deal in a relationship.
And I'm only indoors all the time because I throw myself away in public. Regret only after it has happened - I've never learned how to tell if I'd done something wrong.

Oh,
believe it or not but I think I care about getting in trouble.



As a kid, you always find those neato pictures that just draw you in saying "I'm apart of your personality that you don't even know about yet."

wow. her body looks more withered and her eyes are getting tired about something.

Meanwhile, I wish I weren't so naive being honestly happy to talk to people who wouldn't dare think of me when I leave. Except that I sure made Annoyance Gistory.

M: "I would kill to be a guy!"
H: "God told me he'd make you one if you did."

Too much fried blood. Not enough daylight.

on peut avoir votre foie?

I went on a family vacation once and watched my still-favourite movie that had a street junkie in love with a highschooler, and she ended up killing men to pay for eachother's apartment. This song reminds me of it and is the only tune I sing in the bathroom when I'm drunk [besides songs from Hedwig's Angry Inch]

There's no end to the love you can give
When you change your point of view to underfoot
Very good: you may be flat but you're breathing

And there's no doubt
He's at home in his room
Probably watching porn of you from the fall
It's last call and you're the last one leaving

And you thought you could change the world
By opening your legs
Well it isn't very hard
Try kicking them instead

And you thought you could change his mind
By changing your perfume
To the kind his mother wore
Oh God, Delilah, why?
I never met a more impossible girl

In this same bar where you slammed down your hand
And said, "Amanda, i'm in love"
No you're not
You're just a sucker for the ones who use you
And it doesn't matter what I say or do
The stupid bastard's gonna have his way with you

You're an unrescuable schizo
Or else you're on the rag
'Cause if you take him back
I'm gonna lose my nerve
I never met a more impossible girl

At four o'clock he got off and you called up
"I'm down at Denny's on Route One
And you won't guess what he's done"
Is that a fact, Delilah?
Larry Tap let you in through the back
And use his calling card again for a quick hand of gin

You are impossible, Delilah
The princess of denial
And after seven years in advertising you are none the wiser

You're an unrescuable schizo
Or else you're on the rag
'Cause if you take him back
I'm gonna lose my nerve

He's gonna beat you like a pillow
You schizos never learn
And if you take him home
You'll get what you deserve
I never met a more impossible girl

So don't cry, Delilah
You're still alive, Delilah
You need a ride, Delilah?
Let's see how fast this thing can go

---"Delilah" by The Dresden Dolls