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hibou.
i don’t know what this is- contentment creeping in around the corners of the bleak and melodramatic knowledge that i’ve carried most my life this will be over soon, tomorrow isn’t anything that’s real and on waking, late, before the sun has even thought of coming by to check in with its ugly cheerful disposition…
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25th of January, 2013
It’s been a while. Beloved’s father (who signs his emails, now, love, Dad, which somehow makes me feel a little more okay in a very much not-okay world) mentioned recently that I hadn’t said much lately. Sorry about that. Sometimes there just isn’t much to say. It’s January. Cold and dark and fuck, what are…
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church.
you- face pressed against the breast of your oppressor blind eyes rotting out melt beneath your lids, the muscles atrophied from lack of use your voice gone hoarse from screaming absolution fear salvation -draw your strength from narcissistic weakness codependent you are mental patients not parishioners. drink from the cup of the pure blood dripping,…
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Why Saying “Happy Holidays” Proves that You’re a Child of Satan
You know what sucks? People wanting you to be happy, but not expressing it in exactly the way you think they should. Seriously, there’s nothing worse than exchanging cursory pleasantries with another person and having them wish you well in totally the wrong way. It’s that time of year, folks. Peace and love, joy…
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Untitled 12.01.12
because we don’t acknowledge time we can say that this is one long day and every sorrow, fear, each hesitation, every misstep, hurt misunderstanding is a second, nothing more imperceptible among the ever-reaching hours we have filled with light and grace and every touch, each smile every step we take together through the centuries we’ve…
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Woe.
Hell is having a huge jar of grapefruit (10 whole grapefruits! it says on the sticker, all neatly segmented and lightly sweetened, ready to be enjoyed) and hands too small to grasp the lid well enough to open it. I don’t own one of those handy flexible rubber circles that everyone had in their kitchen…
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End of November
you can’t make this stuff up (i mean you could with a little imagination and if you drank just the right amount of cheap, cold beer before you settled in to think but it wouldn’t be real then and this is) -as real as it gets without shoving over to the other side where it…
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April Fox 