Week ending June 6
Dreamed I had an inability to take out the trash and trash was falling in from upstairs; half eaten soups under someone's chair, etc.
Someone told me the guy had cut off the fleshy parts of her toes, to torture her.
This is not the worst thing by far.
"The trees are dead."
The romanticization of swings.
This saha world, and sad that I've woken up.
"Everybody knows the house always wins."
Can't stop thinking about Maud Gonne.
There is a lot of this this week.
{{{_____________________________}}}
I don't like it when you speak of phoneme sequencing.
Realizing it won't ever add up.
I've said more than I thought I had.
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About Diary of a 36th Year
I started writing in a paper journal right after my 36th birthday in October, 2008; it has become a collage of scrapbooking, diary writing, a lady's common place book, printed out web articles and blog entries, photos and pictures, poems, dreams, emails, lists, receipts, found items... What is excerpted here is the less embarrassing, and more textual fragments thereof.
Never, never forgetting Anais Nin, with an eye toward Joanne Kyger's journals & journal poems, and remembering Virginia Woolf's insistence that everything must be documented, the diary blog is a palimpsest of new narrative, old narrative, and post modern collage styles.
Updated every Sunday.
Never, never forgetting Anais Nin, with an eye toward Joanne Kyger's journals & journal poems, and remembering Virginia Woolf's insistence that everything must be documented, the diary blog is a palimpsest of new narrative, old narrative, and post modern collage styles.
Updated every Sunday.
