idon'tknow what it isinmybrain that makes me
oops whatsthat ihearsomething that'sthelaundry, the new shirt looks like it's ruined after one wearing? the one that made me look like a bird of paradise oh shit oh well
god. then have to just turn around and, oh the bird, he's hungry, so have to scrape up bird shit and jeez make that dental appointment, have to have a new crown put on have the old one jackhammered off takes about 90 minutes is all and the cost
raining hard out there, today seems fresh and grey-green, like someone has turned on a hose or a sprinkler god can't stop worrying about some things like what if someone hit me or igot run over or the kids, the kids, what if they
and things like dementia how would i know i had it if i had it how would it be to see my partner slowly incohere into inchoate mush
(so will turn my mind to other)
and what's all this stuff about god anyway, anne lamott writing about this guy who has a church of 80% sincerity, think it's bullshit, think we need to aim at 100% to get 80 and if we aim
thinkiamlosingmymemory. talking to my best friend, kept blanking on things. was embarrassing and the more i did it the more i did it, also stumbled on the curb and swore at a bus driver ithinkshewasreallyshocked
but he was a fucking loser anyway
mail is here with a chunk/clunk, paper on metal, steel myself no there's no letter not yet no rejection from those people who are - not yet, it's coming, it's coming, then what will i try next, have to try something because
thoughts of depression descendingtoruinmy world. rain supposed to be "bad". not wanting to be outinit but minding how it forms a liquid curtain between the layers of cedar branches, my office curtains, patiently standing for their showery silver bath
my brains, my brains
god when will i get it together i can't see. all type is suddenly smaller and room has gone grey. have to write something this afternoon and it's well i took it on didn't i? a process of mental martialling and people learn how to do it and it's total bullshit because NO ONE REALLY THINKS THAT WAY
a ruse. Way to assemble a ragged spaghetti explosion of simultaneous thought
not dressed yet and it is 9:45 a.m. and if something like a parcel comes to the door, can't answer it which is maybe good so the fucking manuscript can't come back to me today and knock my front teeth out and push in my face
all my life told not to care so much by people who have no idea and don't care enough. People who think we get to engineer ourselves from the ground up. come from good families not my family.
anne lamott has a sort of sense of being dishonest but getting away with it. i see her slip through cracks that are of course there for all of us but if we aim at 80% we might just hit 60%:
honesty on our tax returns
marital fidelity
truthfulness with friends
trustworthiness
sobriety
can't see it, people are bad enough as it is as far as iam concerned, especially people who claim to be holy when
jesus! what to have tonight, have to unthaw something, don't want to fix anything but we always always have to EAT. last night my husband laughed at me for being angry one day this could lead to disaster it came very close/do not like being laughed at for being angry am not trying to be entertaining once made a psychologist laugh when very very angry. must be very very entertaining then why doesn't anyone pay me.
if i don't clean up within a year i think i will just
will just
I think I hear a doorbell
First of all you'll have to take this blog down before you go to Bread Loaf. If the people who seem uninterested in The Glass Character really are uninterested, it will take them awhile to wake up once the story of your possession by the ghost of Harold's lover becomes HUGE. Then you can simply laff at them and say "I think that draft was her first effort. She was disappointed in it and finally decided to blast through the wormhole and give it to me in one fell swoop." Let them prove differently, if they want to. Chances are, once they see there's a bandwagon they'll want to climb aboard. And when you think about it, maybe you did channel her. Who's to say?
ReplyDeleteSpeaking of religion, Con Chapman's revived the one filmed in Mondo Cane 2, where the Eye-talian guys break down a garage door by butting it with their heads and then gorge on the foodstuffs awaiting them inside. I started laffing, and then suddenly realized it may well be the one true religion. Garage Door Gospel
Going in for tests tomorrow to find out if I have bladder cancer. Read something worrisome about one of the diabetes medicines I take - Actos - and then noticed a couple small blood clots in my urine over a two-week period, a symptom, according to the Wash Post article. My doc says it could just be from broken capillaries which would be to laff at. I went huhuhuhuhuh in his office, but I'm holding my real laffter until after tomorrow.
Bread Loaf
I forgot to say I like your paintings. I don't have no art talent 'tall.
ReplyDeleteBritish Columbia Writing Retreats
My comment just got obliterated, so here I am again. First of all, my Dad had bladder cancer, was successfully treated and lived another 20 years without a relapse. But I hope you don't have it AT ALL. My paintings were the result of a creative storm in which I danced, painted, and thought I was some sort of mystical Old Testament healer of the world, but I wasn't. I reversed many of these into photographic negatives coz I like the 3D effect. As for Harold. . . This piece was written after I woke up this morning realizing that when we sit down to write something, it's complete bullshit because the mind doesn't work that way at all. It does not express itself in neat sentences and paragraphs. Listen to ordinary conversation and it's a mess. People stop, contradict themselves, backtrack, cough, laugh, start over, forget what they were going to say. Even that doesn't begin to encompass the chaos of the brain and how it darts from subject to subject, from birdshit to doorbells.
ReplyDeleteAnd we are suspicious of and even deeply resent people who always speak in complete sentences and always make perfect sense. You've given new meaning to "stream of consciousness." Another 20 years, eh? And here I've been trying out various tragic scenarios in my head and almost weeping at the drama. You're right, tho. Still don't wanna go thru it.
ReplyDeleteI look at my future, and it's still a blank canvass (iss, ess?). Has been that way for years. Is that good? Is what it is, as they say.
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