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(aeroplanes)

[16 Aug 2006|11:03pm]
i've decided that this journal is done. i'm starting over.




tonight i registered to vote - 1.62 years late. 593 days, if you were wondering.

it seems like a good beginning.

--end--

(aeroplanes)

[10 Aug 2006|01:43pm]
It’s really strange because I’ve been becoming pretty preoccupied, abruptly and intensely overwhelmed in a not-altogetherly unpleasant way. today I was/(am) sitting at work absently making small lists of things to learn about like bidets and porcupine lovemaking and, and, _____ - when this enormous bubble of joy surfaced out of nowhere from the pit of my stomach &all at once I feel a great rolling laugh pawing at my cheeks ready to escape; a lion made of crepe paper and lace. I am so undescribably comfortable with the texture of my new skin - a counterpart to the unease of late. the lines and boundaries cross and change so unexpectedly that it’s hard to feel as if I know anything anymore.
I wish that I could separate every one of my emotions like yarn or string, segregate them into different parts of my body.
I would keep my sadness tucked safely &secretly in the back of my throat and exhilaration in the ribcage, embed my resolve in the enamel of my teeth, suffocate fear in the tissue of my lungs...

There would be no more confusion.

--end--

(aeroplanes)

[08 Aug 2006|02:32pm]
dear friends:
words recently have been hovering just out of reach like glass paperweights or supernatural balloons with a terrible fragility, fragments thinly pasted together with hairline cracks in constant evasion of my clumsy grasping fingers.
started becoming quite fascinated by ugliness, unsightliness, the underneaths. have been taking an awful number of self-portraits documenting imperfections that are oddly pleasing in themselves. there is something that is quite reassuring about undisguised blemishes, treading the line between colourful flags and shameful concealment – something noble to be found in unabashed stances. there are certain things that i will not apologize for.
every day; slow reconstruction by mending each straw that broke my back. hands still like deserts filled with landmines &hidden sharp things, emptying coffee cups by the bathful, electrifying the neonlit blues away.

i have lot of things to do and my mum wrote me back today; so things are pretty good.

--end--

(aeroplanes)

[05 Aug 2006|02:12pm]
i feel like i'm just now waking up after a long sleep.

--end--

(aeroplanes)

[24 Jul 2006|10:34pm]
[ mood | marvin gaye ]

the city is full of this cloying sticky smell that wraps itself deviously around our calves and knuckles, making it difficult to move. my body is a bed of needles held together by a trip-tripping rabbit heart whose reverbation can be heard from miles away. there's no room for serious words like 'dignity' or 'poise'; as we spread ourselves as close to the ground as we can - anything to escape the rising air that laughs with every ascending inch. i spent the weekend poured into small spaces letting amplifiers reprogram &fill my faulty chest cavity, building a protective layer against small collisions.
i am a satellite and a pulse and above all else, an astonishingly prolific sweat-producing machine. dear mother nature: STOP IT.

p.s: monologues for words. ferociously for images. effective immediately.

--end--

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