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I Stay, I Go


23rd August 2002

12:32pm: Of the natural world, nothing is possible
but praise if we speak at all. We can be still.
The steadiest speakers are quiet after a time.
I could be quiet and not wait for the time
when quiet comes except that so little sound
is hardly to be heard in the loud joy of the world
and I grow impatient and practice the world's song.

~William Bronk
12:44pm: I love being here alone. I am so free from all care and it is so quiet. I had a simple no fuss lunch consisting of Creamy Alfredo Maruchan instant lunch and some ham & cheese on a hotdog roll. At first, I reached out to snatch a plastic yellow plate. They're picnic plates that I use when the boyz are here. Indestructible. It was scratched, had a hole in it and it was generally pretty pathetic. For an instant I thought, "Who cares? It's a plate, it's in your hand, use it." But the other me came out and she was stronger and more noble and dignified and she said, "No. You are going to use a beautiful orchid-colored, leaf-engraved glass plate because, you, my dear, are worth it.

I like her sooo much. xoxo
2:38pm: during my worst times
on the park benches
in the jails
or living with
I always had this certain
I wouldn't call it
it was more of an inner
that settled for
whatever was occuring
and it helped in the
and when relationships
went wrong
with the

it helped
through the
wars and the
the backalley fights

to awaken in a cheap room
in a strange city and
pull up the shade-
this was the craziest kind of

and to walk across the floor
to an old dresser with a
cracked mirror-
see myself, ugly,
grinning at it all.

what matters most is
how well you
walk through the

5:35pm: Look out honey co's I'm usin' technology,
ain't got time to make no 'pology...

~iggy pop


I just ordered 'Ham on Rye' by Charles Bukowski from the seattle public library from MY VERY OWN HOME!!!!!!!!!!!

*runs around in circles*


I've never done that before.

8:14pm: This is a child abuse monument I came across while on google images looking for photos of 'outreached arms':

I also saw a little blond girl of 4 years old today on Oprah telling about how her father put his weewee in her peepee. She spoke in barely a whisper with her little head bowed down. She seemed so irreparably sad and so was I. Here's a poem from a victim I found here....

And please, Believe the Children.


My Hands are now Free
From the shame & guilt
INFLICTED upon me.
Robbed of innocence
No Life
No more secrets
My perpetrator well known
But life goes on
Now I flourish & grow
The shame & guilt
no longer in tow.


She is undoubtedly more fortunate than most.
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