it's sad when exciting things end

when will you wipe my conscience clean?

re arranged my room last night and it makes me feel very different and better. it's incredible how much more intimate this room feels.

cleaning and listening to larkin grimm

gandalf, sarah vaughan, and sleep sleep sleep

"It is so rare in this world to meet a trustworthy person who truly wants to help you, and finding such a person can make you feel warm and safe, even if you are in the middle of a windy valley high up in the mountains."

newsom

deep in the night
shone a weak and miserly light
where the monkey shouldered his lamp

someone had told him
the bear had been wandering
a fair piece away from where they were camped

someone had told him
the bear'd been sneaking away
to the seaside caverns, to bathe

and the thought troubled the monkey
for he was afraid of spelunking down in those caves
also afraid what the village people would say
if they saw the bear in that state;
lolling and splashing obscenely
well, it seemed irrational, really; washing that face
washing that matted and flea-bit pelt
in some sea-spit-shine, old kelp dripping with brine
but monkey just laughed, and he muttered;
when she comes back, Ursala will be bursting with pride

'til I jump up!
saying: you've been rolling in muck!
saying: you smell of garbage and grime!

but far out
far out
by now
by now
far out, by now, Bear ploughed
'cause she would not drown:

first the outside-legs of the bear
up and fell down, in the water, like knobby garters
then the outside-arms of the bear
fell off, as easy as if sloughed from boiled tomatoes
low'red in a genteel curtsy
bear shed the mantle of her diluvian shoulders;
and, with a sigh, she allowed the burden of belly
to drop like an apronfull of boulders

if you could hold up her threadbare coat to the light
where it's worn translucent in places
you'd see spots where almost every night of the year
Bear had been mending suspending that baseness
now her coat drags through the water
bagging, with a life's-worth of hunger, limitless minnows
in the magnetic embrace
balletic and glacial of Bear's insatiable shadow

this is a piece of monkey and bear and i withhold the opinion that it is one of if not the most saddest song she has ever written. and not to mention it is sung in the most perfect way

very very very very very very very...

as pale as a candlestick

getting weirder and weirder as my hair grows and grows and goes. i remember two years ago/some of last year during school i'd go to bed between one and three and 11 or 10 was so early but now if i'm up after ten pm i start to get worried for some reason. lately i've been getting these little bursts of electric pain in the side of my neck and i told my dad and he says he gets those too. we are similar. i'm like his parents too. when my back hurts and i'm in school and i'm slumped and cracking it every ten minutes i have these terrible visions that my spine is (still) a thick wiry rope tied and gnarly but now ive been feeling these lumps (knots) that i imagine are horrible growths on the rope. it can really put one out. this is like how i've been convincing myself i have parasites for half of my life. complaints complaints

on thanksgiving i put superglue on the little cut but i peeled it off that night

edit: on the note of sleeping the weird thing is is that because past ten pm or whenever, i feel worried and anxiety coming about me, and then i have to reassure myself it's okay if i go to sleep at 12, or 11, or 11.30.. or whatever, and that in the grande scheme it really doesnt matter when i go to sleep. it's a strange feeling to be so worried that i won't have time to sleep. if theres anything we'll always have time for it's sleep and there's never enough time for anything else

what was yours and mine

something was a little off in that one little phrase

buried in the snow

buried in yellow froth.
moody day. i woke up with an immediate flooding wave of thought so heavy it was a little burdening
bones so white
i'm hoping

"that true kiss vanished the minute their lips seperated"

i'm weaving with tons of embroidery thread right now and listening to a radiolab podcast about memory and forgetting and i learned this: that a "memory" is a) a physical thing (proteins.) and b) (a commonly agreed upon theory) when we remember something we basically are creating a new memory, we're reproducing it and re experiencing it. and every time we remember something we change it in some small subconscious way, so essentially the more you think about something, dwell on it, remember it, recreate it, the less and less you remember the true event itself, because each remembrance yields another changed aspect. and so you never really know if your memories are real or if they're completely fabricated (if theyre 5, 10, 15 years old, and so on) depending on how often you remember them. there is no such thing as storing a memory completely as it is and being able to look at it at a later date, even if it's a second later.

and moreover, the next scenario they provided was: you kiss someone and they kiss you back and then thirty years later, after not thinking about the kiss at all every beyond that original event (somehow), say the man sees the woman getting out of a train and remembers their kiss: then that memory is infinitely more accurate than if he'd been thinking about it every day of his life up to that moment