diabetes, Movies

digging up the dead

i’ve been posting old stuff because it’s so different from what i do now. when i started this blog, my intention was to write stream of consciousness semi-fiction entries. i did it for awhile but i had very few followers so they’re sort of unseen. they’ve shown a lot more activity than my usual posts these days.

i thought i might write some more posts in that style. what do you think?

i went to the movies by myself (favorite pastime, of course) last week. i saw Kong Skull Island or some name like that;  it was crap. i’m not surprised or disappointed. i expected a shitty movie, but it was before noon so it was half price and i just wanted to be at the movies and get a giant soda and kick back in the dark. there were some good special effects in a big scene where Kong bashes up something like 10 helicopters. lots of good explosions. good cast, too. Summer Glau, John Goodman, and even Samuel Jackson. still, it was a flop, but not so bad that i left. it just goes to show that you can throw money and stars at the camera and waste everybody’s time and a helluva lot of money.

my psoriasis got bad enough that i went to a dermatologist. she has a long eastern european name that begins with a G so everyone calls her Dr G. sure that makes it easy and everyone in the clinic knows her that way, even the other doctors.  i think that’s really unfair and disrespectful to her background, presumptuous and it takes a short cut that’s easy for Americans to say, regardless of what her name really is. maybe this is something that just gets up my nose because i’m super sensitive to PC things, but i really believe in it. i had an endocrinologist named Dr. Seneveranati and then she left and i had one name Dr. Srinivasan. both of those names are challenging, and the fact that they’re quite similar, at least to me. but i made the effort to learn them and keep them separate. i think a person deserves to be called by their own name, even if it is a challenge for those of us, ie most Americans, to learn to say. but i think it’s our responsibility to do it. this is one of the few countries in the western world that doesn’t teach multiple languages  from a young age in school. i took french in high school for 4 years, but i’m hardly fluent. now with our horrific president they’ll probably try to make sure Americans don’t learn second language, and god forbid, don’t learn spanish! i’m getting angry as i write this!

my messed up diabetic split toe is starting to heal. the crack is widening, but it looks dry and clean . i’ll really be glad when this is all over so i can get a pedicure. lol! it stopped hurting which is great cause i don’t want to be in extra pain and since it’s healing, i probably have to have my leg cut off. lol that’s a horror i’ve always had, that i’d have to have an amputation (sort of common with diabetic people who don’t have foot exams, that have diabetic neuropothy  and don’t realize they get wounds on their feet or legs and can’t feel it. a wound could get infected and if the person doesn’t realize it could get so bad that part of the leg has to be amputated.) before i got diabetes i read about ella fitzgerald having to get both legs removed at the knee. i’ll never forget that.

have a brilliant saturday!

abstract, anxiety, stream of consciousness, writing

Repost:sometimes and becauses

on saturday i saw them laughing and i felt good. sometimes they laugh and it’s more empty than alive. but not this time, they were acting like they were in their own world. that was good enough.

when i laugh i cover my teeth. my teeth are an ongoing issue. piercings breaking teeth, dentist driving me away. i remember ellie’s teeth were hideous because of all the cigarette smoking. because is a common term. i did this because of that and that because of this, and so on. we all have motives. so we have beacauses.

we have a lot of sometimes, too. becauses and sometimes. do they make us any less vulnerable or angry? when i go outside with him on the leash and every window full of eyes i feel rage. my rage is so big it swallows all the becauses. they don’t matter in the light of all those built up beliefs.

my relationship with my mind is like a drug user and a mystery drug. the user wants, the drug could be anything and the user still wants it. something happens to the user, but who knows what? they know, but will never tell. i want something to quiet my mind. my mind throws a mystery drug to me, be it anxiety, anger, confusion, destruction, and i let it hit me.

what else could i do?





Update: I got my teeth fixed!!!!

anxiety, insomnia, Life, writing

another post from the past,1/15/15

we were in amsterdam, arriving 6am. the hotel wouldn’t let us leave our luggage before 3pm. our luggage needed a hotel. our luggage couldn’t get a hotel, so we had to drag it around with us. drag drag drag a dead weight.

when we were in edinburgh we saw a japanese man pull another man in a chair, with his balls.his friend put milk in his mouth and made it come out of his tear ducts. they were the Tokyo Shock Boys. shocking indeed.

not only that. i did other things in secret. identity theft, i think someone stole my identity. i don’t really want it back. my back is incredibly itchy, could it be the poison ivy i’ve be spending my nights in? i thought i wasn’t allergic. they laughed when i told them her breed. they didn’t think it was true.

what do we know is true? nothing. no question there, just questions everywhere. i hum tunes when i’m thinking and when i’m freaking out not anywhere, no i won’t go. not the police again. but then, they might have been security guards for all i know. i’ll never know. i don’t want to know.


Very short term observations

My heels are rough (diabetes). The bed is nice, lots of pillows and blankets. My hands have paint on them. My back hurts. I’m listening to Arctic Monkeys.the lyrics are good. It’s sort of dusk, not quite though. My house is hiding behind my neighbor’s tree. It feels like I’m in a tree house as I look out the windows next to the bed. We might need a new lamp.

My eyeballs are crossing.


light, medium, dark

i’ve been wanting to write a post all week, but i couldn’t think of anything interesting to talk about and i just don’t have the energy to do an art discussion. the psychedelic drawing…sharpie infinitythat i posted this morning, is the first thing i’ve done in a few days. i was really getting antsy (does anyone else say that? my dad did). it took four partial drawings to get to this finished one.

i thought about the colors a lot. sharpies only have so many colors and a couple are too dark to use…navy and brown. purple is almost too dark and green is iffy. i’ve been thinking about colors as light colors, medium colors and dark colors. there are jazzy exciting colors, like that awesome magenta  and the killer deep yellow fillings. does that makes sense?

i try to layer the colors and really try to highlight various colors, either light on dark or vice versa.

i started with those striped lines that look like dna. most reactions have been that it’s dna, i thought they were infinity symbols, but dna is even better!

i killed a hot pink (aka magenta) ultra fine marker. i went over everything 4x.

this is in my moleskeine notebook which is 8.5″x5.5″

oh, well there you go, i wrote about a piece of art. maybe i should do it like this all the time!


change is not my forte

change, not my forte, stumbles, trips, runs, and rolls. trying to stay static, home is my safe house. leaving with trepidation, armed with phone, money, cards, and keys, time is on my side. who wears a watch now? is there no time to count? perhaps the phone counts time, as well as numbers, letters, and words. it can capture images, stealthy counting, captures souls, copyrights, jumbles and more stumbles. freedom is not having to record or count.

my freedom is constrained by worry. check time, put time in check. constriction to stomach. pain. constriction of pores. into the hot water, they open. dipped in cold water they shut down.  it could have been better. it  could have made me do that thing, that thing i don’t like to do. i keep my mouth shut and my lips are turned down. don’t do it. change it up. up with the corners of the lips. try to fight it, i wanna be grim. but instead i grin.

the roller coaster they always speak of is clanking it’s way up. chug chug. fear of falling up, looking for limbo. finding neutral, the always impossible, is a hopeless profession. down like a water slide, nice and easy? painful and easy? never easy. chug chug and vroom, down the slide. land on my ass in the grass. and so the roller coaster goes.

it switches up and shudders down, always in flux.

change is not my forte.


they made me go

never send your kids to summer camp. they made me go. it rained, there were ticks, wolf spiders and melted ice cream. my first panic attack. jumping off the diving board, or not. fourth of july, archery. i wasn’t strong enough. i pulled and got nothing. there were other summers, like the one when the horse i couldn’t ride stood on my foot. all of that, for nothing. isn’t that the way it usually happens?

ATC color in the dark

can you see in the dark? i couldn’t, and i still can’t. careening from bed to broken nose. the psychiatrist was apologetic, we agreed that she should be. another day another tiny plastic kidney shaped vomit receptacle. this time it was my turn to apologize. clown pants in the waiting room, i didn’t care.

ATC feathers for ms. cd

i still don’t (care) and i never will. it only makes me care a hundred times more about the rest. i didn’t get any rest for the last four decades.it makes me wonder why no one ever knew. i didn’t, and i guess that was enough.

ATC creeping rustthe last time there were four, and now it’s five, or nine, including one more that made it ten in advance. skinny spider wires hold them together and i wonder why.


more than second best, but less than brand new.

it was a crappy car with a french name, more than second best but less than brand new. i drove it halfway across the nation with no speedometer. i forgot what happened when i got there, but i was being judged. writing in closets with heat pouring off an old fashioned radiator, i examined my motives and concluded it was modern dance.

ATC blood and bluebirds

today is question day. one to the left and three on the aisle. polyester industrial fabric is filling the room. suffocating the women and children. piles of jewelry and gold teeth,watches, glasses, thrown in a piles. piles of piles.. ghosts abound. i go down that aisle again, but this time someone tripped me. i couldn’t catch myself and we all know that led to a broken face. they reassure you til you know for sure that it’s dangerous.

ATC blue and green with white gel pen 3

i found paradise on an airplane. the mile low club.i saw the tear in her stocking and wondered why she was still wearing them. we flew right over macy’s. the last time i was there i stocked up on stockings. they were so tight, that i couldn’t even swallow the mouthful of beer. i spat it out and i realized it was in her hair before she did.  she was wearing it down,right down her back. it made think of black butterflies, fluttering in the stale air.


kiss the ring

midnight mass on christmas eve is always crowded. i bent and kissed the bishop’s ring i saw the way everyone looked at me and realized my behavior was unacceptable, shocking even. sometimes when people get angry they say things are unacceptable. what a futile thing do say. there is no such thing. there is no too much, no too little, no limit. you think no pain will go on until you can’t stand it but you can. you have to stand it until you’re dead.

bear claw

people don’t understand. they don’t know what it is to need. i just need one more pill and i’ll feel the way i want to. that’s need. mostly need is waiting. need teaches you how to wait, but not wait quietly. waiting strung up tight. i told her she was anal. haha. she sputtered in anger. turned red. i surprised myself by having to try not to smile.

bird house i try not to smile, but if i do i stretch my lips into a half circle, with my lips pressed together, tight. i still have that appalling scar on the tip of my nose. we were at the zoo and the monkeys made me scared. i felt like i was going to faint. i felt that once in gym class. i don’t know if i really did or not. i always wish things were worse.