I don't know if I'm going to stop writing here altogether, but I've fallen for Tumblr. I'm very sorry, Xanga. Then, I also have a Blogspot and other such nonsense. I seem to have problems with blog host infidelity.

So, I'll be there more often than here, I reckon.

http://dayresidue.tumblr.com

I hope you're doing well.

Scritch, scritch, scritch...
with a stolen stick of ink
leaving specks of lies
around, under:
    fingernails
    lines
    mattress
   
No poetic, filmic crumpled sheets
littering like invincible
snowballs
Around a wastebin valley.
Only furious Xs

I bought two graphic novels today with my giftcard to Borders. I hope I enjoy them. One is Y: The Last Man and one is Fables. Both are Vertigo comics, which tend to be very good, in my opinion.

Every now and again I want to either have a kid. On these days, there are varying degrees of "child" I want. Some days I want to be merely pregnant, 7 or 8 months. Some days I want the tiny infant that knows nothing and everything. Some days I want the child who can almost speak, and flirts with the men and women around with big smiles and sub-speech cooing. Most of all, though, I want to have a child to buy him/her shoes. I think that's a sign I should stop working at Payless before it's too late.

I feel much like Holden Caulfield...like every thought I have is utterly self-indulgent, self-centered, and entirely too selfish. But then, aren't we all? Yes, of course, we are. Our own thought processes cannot function outside ourselves, so of course they're all about me (or you, or my dad, or Angelina Jolie). We cannot help being self-centered, because there's no other point of gravity our minds will orbit around...

On an entirely unrelated note, I love when I find the beautiful things in people completely by accident.

I always wanted to be a dancer. I love the fluidity of the body with the environment. It feels like something I'm lacking...harmony of inside and outside.

I love the word "squalor," as well as it's root "squalid."

I think I want to be medicated, future stigmata aside. And no, I don't mean the definition of stigmata made popular by the late Jesus H. Christ.

What am I looking for?

I'm feeling tattoo-antsy again. This time, though, no cash. Uggh.

1. A tribe in Africa  called the Shangaan believe that white lions are stars descended from Heaven

2. Write more in Moleskine. I didn't spend $15 to ignore it.

I've learned that shutting my mouth helps. Not lies, just avoidance. It's nice to know we don't have to make elephants of the ants. It saddens me a bit though that I can't talk about how I'm feeling. But I guess...it makes me get over it quicker...So that's nice.