FML

It goes without saying that I'm fucked on some kind of deeper cosmic level. In earth terms, I have absolutely no regard for human life, my human life. Every four or five days or so I go and fuck it all up. I almost made it out the door with my little, "in case of emergency" bag with helpful things in it but I decided to have a snack before I made my escape. The escape I was trying to make from the snack. I had a snack on the way out, trying to make an escape from the snack. This, dear people, is like stopping to play with a bottle of lighter fluid when you're trying to escape when your house is on fire. I was fine yesterday. I was fine today. And then I talked to my dad. I cannot blame this on my dad. I cannot blame this entirely on my dad. I cannot blame this on Knox. I cannot blame this on God. I can only blame this on myself, on my own weak will, on my penchant for death.

This is not Joy writing. I do not know who this is. This is some other entity which has over taken the body of Joy. This is someone masquerading as Joy. This is someone thinking the thoughts it thinks Joy would think if she was having a bad day and ate all the granola and then puked. Joy at least would have better things to binge on than cottage cheese and fucking granola.

I half wonder if we are all really angels but we contract with God to come into these human bodies, not to make the world a better place, or to experience corporeal life, but rather to experience pain. You gotta think that being an angel is great except you just can't ever feel anything, and that probably gets boring, so God let's the angels down into earth bodies for like a pain vacation because angels really miss pain when they're in heaven, but oh wow can you get a lot of pain here on earth and let me tell you, I'm really enjoying this.

Not Joy, but the psuedo bullshit angel entity that get's off on gross fucking things like eating all the food and then puking. JFC, if maybe I can really just wrap my head around how fucking gross that is for a second. Maybe then I wold stop doing it. Maybe if every body fucking new about it then maybe I'd stop. Well, here I am being all honest and shit for my audience of zero and it just fucking doesn't matter.

At this moment I don't know what matters. I can go sit placidly and play the four to eight chords I know how to play on the piano in a rhythmic sequence and pretend I'm playing a song. I could read a book of verses or other inspirational who-haw.

I honestly don't know what the fucking point is to anyfuckingthing right now. God, please let my life start to make sense soon. Please stop letting me hurt myself. Please remove my supposed free will that supposedly gets me into this mess, or rebuke and expel whatever demons or ghosts or angels that may be occupying my body for shits and giggles. Or tears. Whatever. Amen.

Right.

I can count on my parents to point out the negatives in my life. sometimes the positive too. But mostly that which I would rather not look at. My dad is taking a flash light and shining it in my face at 4am while I'm sleeping. That's what this feels like.

Long live chaste relationships. That's all I've got to say for myself. I'm not in the mood for processing but know that that is exactly what I need to be doing in some way. Maybe I should go to Mills and play the piano in my practice room for a while. Or something.

I want to start a list called "Things You Could Not Pay Me To Do..." So far everything that's made the list has to do with alcohol and certain social groups in the San Francisco scene.

I'm not sure what I am so upset about right now. Perhaps a blanket statement of 'all the above'. I'm upset because of everything, I'm low energy, I don't want to deal. How, pray tell to get out of this funk? Mills is calling but so is a bowl of cereal. We are currently trying to get out of the habit of eating to mask feelings. Why the fuck does feeling feelings have to feel so shitty? Embrace this present moment in all it's shittiness, Joy. Haha. That is a funny sentence to look at, because my name is Joy. Annnnywhooo.

furthermore

so now i will just say that i re-dedicate this blog to myself and realness. whatever that means, whenever i feel like it. and i don't care who reads it or does not read it. it's not going to be about nice little pretty in pink posts or sleek poems, or whatever, it's going to be about what i need from a blog, which at this moment is a container for excess emotion.

9.24.10

fuck it. i'm going back to blogging nonsense at the drop of a hat because well it helps to vent and such so that what is inside is somehow outside in a contained little space. and not living in some terrible ineffective behavior/coping mechanism. i really don't know what is wrong right now. i'm having such a difficult time resolving, no that's not the word. but when you have two opposing ideas/ways of thinking. oh yes, reconciling. i'm having a hard time reconciling what i think i know, which i don't know, about existence and consciousness, and transcendence to what my lower self lives in matter, in pattern. there is such a glaring difference. i must still be dealing with saturn and righting old patterns. this is something to overcome but maybe in total acceptance of the yuckiness and the brokenness and maybe i'll never be better but that is just another part of the needing to be okay with everything in this present moment and not struggle against it but give over and let it wash over me in big waves of realness.

i must give up my futile and destructive habit of striving for thinness. the thinness i've been looking for was a fleeting moment in time at age eleven, or thirteen, or for that brief time at 26 when i wasn't eating but ingesting lots of other things instead. and that was not a good look. well maybe in still life on camera but not in real time, in action.

and now my body reflects the truth of me. at least part of it. as mother, in age, with genetics. nature has won over the stupidity of youth. i am not false anymore in so many senses. i am living truth, no more masks, no more projections.

what a beautiful sunny day and i am so blessed for the pretty garden we have and my cute enviable neighborhood. working from home, not given more than I can handle for this moment. i can see the positive if i want to rather than the negative of the same circumstance. stay in the light! stick to the treatment to the letter. do all the good things i know that are helpful, even if i don't want to do them. i must especially because i don't want to, it means that i need to so much!

for neatby 3.0 (non sequitor)

where are my words for neatby now

when we were sticks together

fooled by the meter,

the words, and the distance

beautified his pursuant wit.

bricks of canterbury to crypts step.

a cheap trick.

where's my silver egg?

unhatched.

dance dance diva

turn me out

my epileptic teary eyed rhizome

and she danced and danced

jezebel, eve, salome, magdalena

draught a basket

a coin in my pocket

not even

your endless love;

fun, but too much like

his mad mother

he'd never capture her

so he raped his sister

at tunbridge wells

with his girlfriend upstairs

7/30/2010

persephone

she did not realize the significance of the fall until several rounds had passed and a pattern made itself apparent. oh darling psyche, cannot quite remove herself from the mythic patterns of her preceding lives. certainly that's not tragic. it's a matter of fate. i wouldn't quite call him a rake. la dee da, don't you know we're playing her again. i'll sit back and watch it unfold, my sweet sweet angel. i don't have the energy anymore, the care, or the wherewithal to fight back in grand schemes of poetic revelry. Ibid. please see the previous twelve volumes. change year and name of eros manifest in flesh. i've had enough of the school yard. wrap me up in the tetherball.

haricot verts

haricot verts.

reification

there really is no other option than to do a very thorough cleaning of house. all these old things, matter from the past, hang in the air. i want to get very far away from them. i really want to move. the air is heavy with the past year, here now at home. i wonder if the magic of the last few months will fade now that i've returned home. i must assure myself that God still loves me, even in Berkeley where Spirit is mostly dead. i am still loved. i am still anointed. i will feng shui away the baddies and forge ahead. matter is nothing but thought so i shall think it into something that feels good. sleeping in my own bed is going to feel good. i remember the last time and the intensity of that astral travel. hopefully those folks are busy doing other things. and i will sleep soundly.

truly be

oh oh wouldn't you know. she finally remembered why this all started. when she came too close to touching the sun and spilling it's...don't say i didn't warn you. following that thread into the labyrinthine. certainly now my inner voice is softer. certainly now i've given up the ghosts. certainly now i am as uncertain as i've ever been and stronger for it. yea though i walk through the valley. oh hush. there is no such nonsense on the premises any longer nor was there ever. perception! dear and these are the degrees through which we rise to higher elocutions. now for the sweetness and goodness evermore. truly dedicated and bound by fortune. truly sunshine. and love. forever and ever world without end.