...nope

"I want a god who stays dead, not plays dead  I, even, I 

can play dead.."

                                                              -nietzsche, the dandy warhols

i talked before about the heavy metal gods of the universe. that was all just expert speculation.  i also only recently learned, through a trusted source close to me, that I am most decidedly NOT metal (re: verb-in-transitive, descriptive use of, in reference to/about, et cetera and miscellaneous). so what the hell do i know?  

 >>poser<<

i know i'm pretty fucking angry today. i'm pretty pissed off at the shit people feel like they can just say to other people.  to the abject garbage people feel they can say to me.  except, now i talk back.  i didn't always, but i do now, and it's fucking up the program a little, because i'm not so docile these days.

and those days are in question, and i don't have time for disingenuous pandering and hurt motherfucking feelings. 

i know a guy who is really trying to get me to join the Episcopalians.  and honestly?  i've thought about it, just to be around other people a little bit.  to be around ostensibly nice people.  to go and meet a gay priest.  take my alternative ass to an alternative church.  to be around the kind of christians who, like, get jesus.

those are some of my favorite people.

so, metal, or no, and, jesus, or no, i'm just going to have to continue, regardless of what someone else wants me to feel. i ain't centralia, PA, and you ain't got eminent domain.

 

...very good girl

"Hot lines under a rain of drum, Cigarette Props in action, Dialogue dub, now heres the rub, She's acting her reaction"

                                                        - she's in parties, bauhaus

Mabyl has been talking recently about her classmates, and making choices based on what they tell her to do versus what she thinks is right.  I find it cool that she thinks to vocalize this internal debate, and privileged, also, that she's open to talking to me about it. So I downplay our interaction. I want it to be as casual and normal as anything else that she and I speak about her life.

I tell her she is doing the right thing by saying "No" to some of the things her friends at school are up to, mostly because she has the ability to say no.  But pretty much like every other woman ever, she wants to please the other kids, and she is afraid for people to not like her, etc.  So I shrug it off and tell her she doesn't need people like that to like her anyway, because people like that really aren't worth knowing in the first place.  She considers this and asks me, "Mom, am I somebody worth knowing?"

I told her, "I don't know, Snoopy. That's entirely up to you."

 

 

 

...fuck you, andy warhol

"That is the way you are, always given

  to silence. so I don't care anymore  "

- jim carroll, The Narrows 

our universe is a heavy metal rock god, i'm convinced of it. you may or may not be aware of my trembling fear of chainsaws. as in, the fight or flight response is thusly activated in the presence of its sound. i will run from a chainsaw. a far off leaf blower carried in through the wind midday gives me pause.

heavy metal rock gods love chainsaws.

i'm at a crossroads of really?! and wtf. i feel like im in some sort of hysterical, drug-fueled, lower-east side-deputant argument between andy warhol and edie sedgwick, throwing my fuck-me-pumps across a bedroom, and storming out barefooted into Manhattan snow insanity.


what is really important is for me to impart to my children that they not grown up to glamorize the bohemian lifestyle the way i did. bohemia is bullshit. its cool for a little bit, but its nowhere to make your home. some folks can do this, but unless you have a trust fund, i don't rightly recommend it. i love my life, but my heavy metal gods need a new power tool.

...it was just here

"Humming Fish, I love your hums
I've got a feeling we'll be chums
This pond is perfect! There's no doubt
Excuse me while I rip these out!"

                                                -this is the place, the lorax

2014 has spoken in codes, and i predicted some of those here. Last night in the Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane, the rabbit was thrown from the ocean liner, and he sank, and he sank, and he sank, and for nearly 300 days he sat at the bottom of the sea until a storm carried him to the surface where he was rescued by a fisherman's net. Edward, the china rabbit, could not have predicted such a thing, being an inanimate toy bunny with no foresight, but he knows now that even being born from routine and strictly kept, everything you know can change instantly and forever.

It is a fine lesson for Edward Tulane. It is a fine lesson for the children.  Someday soon for them, things will change in a way that is permanent, and its long reaching ripple effects will stretch like skeleton fingers into the far corners of their lives- a considerably longer period of time than 300 days. But there will be fishermen, and there will be nets. The well weathered life is a well lived one.

These days my mind races like a detuned black and white tv.  The UHF static cling paints my words in that fuzzy Roy Lichtenstein distortion, somewhere between sweetness and inane.  Today my solar plexus is a heavy place, and I'm feeling a sense of profound loss, and an urgent need to get dear old St. Anthony on my side, although I already know the things I've misplaced are gone forever.

Don't tell the kids this, but Edward Tulane eventually finds his way home. You see, Abilene is the little girl who loves him, and its another child that throws him off the boat on their family voyage to England. It's many years later, when Abilene has a daughter of her own, and its her daughter who spots Edward on a shelf in a second hand shop one rainy afternoon.  It's a tremendously happy ending.

We should all be so lucky, to be found and found again.