this is where we look for things
4.5.01 - 10:43
i pulled you up by your blue collar and now you can't get enough air now you're choking on your principles now you're wondering, where did it all go wrong? we all ask that question of ourselves like there was some sort of unspoken covenant and things were supposed to go the "right" way but then you know in stories with happy endings some of the tension comes out of the way the plot moves towards unhappy endings as we try to puzzle out how exactly to get from there to the happy ending and when it doesn't have a happy ending sometimes there's less tension because that's the way we've been moving the whole time, towards the sadness and so it's not so much of a shock and why should lives be any different?
today is ricky's birthday. ricky makes breakfast tacos in the cafeteria of the National Instruments building in Austin, TX. his birthday means absolutely nothing to you (or me, for that matter).
i wonder if i can purchase a big thing of goldfish without faces. i bet i can. ugh, those faces are creepy. i don't want my goldfish smiling at me. i like to eat blank faces.
today the poem of the day in my mailbox was 'lady lazarus.' i feel like it's been the poem of the day before. or maybe i've just talked about lady lazarus before. yeah. i do it exceptionally well. i deal only in plastic. i speak in carefully moderated tones. i laughed when you thought you had carpal tunnel syndrome because all i could think about were those commercials and the pain-numbness-tingling and there was a vase, falling, and a red rose on the floor and also bits of glass scattered around it.
there are a number of other things. if you are scared of the ground you could be a pilot or a trapeze artist. i know you wanted hyacinths, i know you wanted to be the hyancinth girl, but it's just not feasible right now. i've brought you marigolds to stop the bleeding instead and now we can go eat at chapultepec, "where the beautiful people eat". i know this because it is printed on the menu. the skin is tight on my face and warm across my cheekbones. sometimes you have to spit it all out because you're afraid you won't be able to get the taste out of your mouth. sometimes your tongue swells so that nothing else can fit. and sometimes your pupils dilate until your irises are only the thinnest band of color and i would look at you and see my black eyes staring back at myself.
keep it like a secret.
i could talk at you in riddles if i could just figure out how to open my mouth. it's dark in here and there's electricity running through my toes. if i could gather it all maybe i could breathe. you asked me if it would be ok to quote kenny rogers lyrics and i said would she recognize them and when you said yes i said you've got the wrong girl. just start over.
when she said she didn't like disneyland you asked her if she was a communist, but communists enjoy theme parks, too, you know.
