Week 24
Maybe jugglers.
because I woke with a headache which I still have
, especially if I am making porridge.
I'm writing sentences with exclamation marks because I am faking it.
So. Another telepathic event.
If she is what I think she is,
But I prefer the first meaning.
If you can concentrate in the SF library, you can concentrate anywhere.
Europeans say wee-fee instead of wigh-fie
I tend to think I'm full just because I get an endorphin rush.
Not thinking things through enough.
I IMAGINE WE ARE MYSTICAL CREATURES, WE ARE FAUNS, OR MERMAIDS.
it looked like the walls were crashing.
Wanted to do something useful with all that peace.
a current life reincarnation
a prayer for the 70,000
I feel like I'm going to the airport.
a day for breakthroughs
Voluntary severance
A somewhat 5-8 sentence long conversation that went nowhere.
Overheard: "That was some good water."
I've been shaking all day.
Remembering this song on headphones.
I think my squash is about ready.
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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.
