october 31, 2018

scary times
for everyone
but Iíve slept
and awoke
less dead
than before

mid-day and a window gets replaced:
the chill of nearly November blows thru this house
but cannot stump me
in my worldly cocoon
Iím helping strangers
Iím winning art
Iím sharing my video

lately the contrast between my busy worldand that of my aging parents
is glaringly apparent
and becoming very difficult for them to understand:
they have simple things; simple opining; simple needs;
mine is a complex world made complex from the inside
and Iím finally seeing that itís always been that way.

Iíve always been intuitive in a non-intuitive world:
Iíve bent and morphed and stretched and acted
my way around that world
but I never belonged in it.










october 23, 2018

no one knows what you do in between the words you write:
do you chew your lips:
sip your coffee in the dark.

Just as no one knows what I do between the events I attend:
the work I show up at
the sandwiches I make.

this is the mEp: this is what I think between my thoughts

Between my opinions
between sleeping and awake

at 8:10 am I can hear the rumble outside
my stomach gurgle
an old womanís alarm clock;
and the building creak

at 8:11 Ilisten to the ringing in my ears:
the snoring of a Swiss man
and the scuttling of guinea pigs

the second mug of coffee has not jolted anything yet: brain nor bowel
I wait for that sip which will trip the right neurons
the ones that allow me to enter the world of the waking
the people lining the 51
and vera Reifenstein, who has been up for 3 hours

the Swiss man rolls over, murmers ďGodĒ, and returns to snoring.

I chew on my cheek, remove a layer,
and swirl the last two warm gulps around inside my cheeks
from a mug which will be empty
too soon.









october 21

a tall mug from Prague, some ringing in my ears, and some echoey silence in this hundred year old house.
these are the things keeping me company after 9 hours of sleep.
the laundry is piled high: the coffee abundant: andmy dreams filled with shopping at my recurring favourite store. There are many women helping us shop, me and the children, everything fits perfectly,
and Luca really wanted a pair of pants. All the items were around 194 USD and every time she rang up the bill, it was over the limit on my credit card and we had to start removing things. No one found it odd.
at the very end of the dream, I could not find the 3 pairs of shoes I had tried on; they were suede and so comfortable. Perhaps litening to Abba before sleep, influenced those styles in my dream.

But in all honesty, during the daytime, I come up with some quite bright theories:
and as time goes, Iím far more articulate:
once my coffee is done that is.
Iíve convinced my professor friend that twitter is indeed worthwhile and sheís admitted such.
we discussed how the internet was indeed, started by the intellects, and that is simply got absconded by the masses, as has every other invention. But it doesnít mean that the intellengicia are not still there. You just have to sift a bit more through rubble.

indeed, I do now hang out with two professors mostly. It took into my 40s to find them but I found them.
that is another long story that I shall never write down : I do not tempt karma.










Monday Monday
October 15th
mid mourning
mitt morning.

slept dead to the world from midnight to eight
my family was gone, Iwoke far too late,







Oct 14

Sara†† s t r u m sin another window;
the Swiss mant a l k s††† to his tiny laptop;
the child†††† s t u d I e s††††††† in an upper duplex;
the Swiss man s w e a r sat his tiny laptop;
the phone rings;
the child yells at me;
I no longer care;
she will pay the same price I did.




oct. 13

five days
five days






oct. 9

these are the days I wake up and immediately list who needs to fuck off
itís not pretty. coffee helps. If my mother knew sheíd be horrified.
if people knew what I was thinking most of the time theyíd all be horrified.
well thatís what I think anyways.

at four am I read this entire thread

and, my girl Linzy went viral while I slept.
Woot woot.


-          Weekend†††††











oct. 5

d-day came and went; nothing has changed yet other than the direction of the chemical flow in my brain;
sneeze one, sneeze two, the blood pressure rises as the silent person next to me asks over and over again when we can leave.

those brain chemicals did a number indeed. Repetitive versions of my story Ė my excuses Ė abound.
The facts indeed indicate that both sides of the story are true: mine and theirs.
only in the world we live in, only theirs will count.

but my joy mantra returned quietly, under breath, under oath, under a few clicks of emails,
a mantra which reminds me that the world is not black and white; that adversity makes me stronger; that all humans are flawed; that there are multiple ways out of a given situation and that if I have to find one of them, I will.

so on this dark morning, with my ringing ears, I shall dress myself for fall, leave some crumbles in a bed,
and push myself into an office on the sixteenth floor to sit pretty, smile pretty, and take their best punches like the trooper that I am.











Oct. 4

Here I am again
whirling thoughts sifting across the surface of a brain with low sugar
some more mildly OCD than others;
the singing ringing in my ears only slightly dimmer than the hum of the force-air heater,
the muffled ladies on the cbc are losing out in this audio-battle
but words like ďKavanaughĒ and Ford seep out over the piles of dishesÖ


In other news.
weíre discussing useful things about ENTJ in context:
how much we hate uncertainty:
and how much we need to control the social norms






I spent a long night with Barbra carpinetti, in a tent, while her baby slept nearby.
in the morning I had forgotten my keys
I arrived at my high school graduation
I bought a fancy plastic glass of champagne shaped like a rose; I needed it;
it was not full;I signed the list and paid my 32 bucks anyway;
I was emotional over seeing Christine bayard;
and explained to Julie how Iíd likely not cross her path again
then Julie and I examined Kim Sterlingís white lab coat of sorts
it had a police type logo and round collars.
My dream mind was 53, not 17 however,
so I pondered her unusual career choice from the perspective
of someone nearing the end of her career, not a peer.
then I parked the car in the same recurring parking spot near the poles
which donít even exist in real life. Why would a mind create a parking spot.

I did not really get to my career goal, in that sense.

itís early. very early. itís darkIím awake.
the morning smell of winter hangs in the air.
that smell signals the long cold dark months of spending a lot of time inside
with our thoughts, our dreams, and each other.

Dreaming always helps to remind me that I like to have dominion over my thoughts

Now back to my thoughts.
the elusive ones that escape me after Iíve written down a dream;
the ones which seep thru the ether of my mind as Iím pouring the last of the coffee that andrea made; and as Iím stirring the last of the sugar, imagining the sucrose dissolving in the hot liquid, pass through me before I can get to the laptop. It was a good one. Now where did it go.

Itís a very rare day that I get to the early coffee well-rested
and still forget what I wanted to write.
I was arguing about tenants and landlords
I was missing andrea
I was googling mitch mconnelís net worth
I was thinking about winter
and the anatomy of a dream
and how a long dream is sort of like winter
where you wake up out of a fog
and wonder which of the two is reality

in these dark quiet moments
I can relive my entire life in a flash
one whiff of winter air can summarize a lifetime of winter culture
while the darkness always brings me back to El Segundo
which was to this day, for me, darkness embodied,
in such a sunny place.

I never could have imagined that it would have been my darkest hour.

And I concede defeat; the thought which was crystal clear
is gone.




Oct 2

I just want things to be settled.
I am ENTJ.
Uncertainty gives me cognitive dissonance.







there aresome small places cleaner than others
thefridge is clean for example
as is the ceilings; washed ;the Tupperware aligned;
but itís not inspirational

when everything is clean

a throbbing head but awake poot darts her eyes from the brightening glow under window coverings to the failing battery life of this device;
fingers squarely aligned for touch typing;

ears gladly ringing Ė oscillating to the pulse of this beating heart.

one thing is clean: itís a fridge.
everything else is a fucking mess.

we need to get the shoulders down:
keep talking to the ENFJ:
focus on what is good:

and pick wisely.
pick wisely.

good morning internet.