twenty second.

old figure steps into life again.

by this amount it's become cliche.

august sixteenth.

insane clown posse. work. bpd. vcing with penny and rachel.

burnout. august fourteenth.

im not sure that you get use to being called an evil person. i think that at somepoint you shrug and try to not fall apart. i dont know what my brain is like. i havent been writing lately. diary entries at least. i should use my physical journal again. i feel all my thoughts slipping from my head like sand from my hands. im burnt out. maybe. im not gonna make any art about being kicked out from a community and everyone being awful at communication. all it does is sear the agony into your mind. i miss being a neet. but also i dont. it's kinda like that thing people say with capitalism and the matrix and platos cave. once you see it then you feel insane that other people dont. but for me i saw the entirety of history and the universe and the mind laid out before me and now im smoking cigarettes in a walgreens parking lot. monday i worked. maybe i should be happier that not too many people message me. i wish that let me take a step away from my phone. everything about me is fleeting. like sands spilling out of a younger mes hands. i cant describe everything ive done in a day. most of the weekend and yesterday i spent on call with catherine. i dont know how many times "i love you" was exchanged between us. i spent saturday. sunday. and tuesday. thats yesterday. today is a wednesday. i spent much of it depressed and in bed. autopilot mode. thats how it feels today. at work i have more energy than at home. i barely remember ve. only wisps. but i keep marching to a maladaptive drumming beat that she helped establish. sitting by the phone like a dog waiting for someone to return home. i miss calling audrey. i dont remember for sure but there had to be a time me and her called all the time. im unsure what i did in the summer and fall of last year. i curl up besides an angelic choir and try to sleep some more. i forget i love people too easily. my love is deep and engraved into stone though. when it reactivates it glows so strongly. everything is a squishy soup. memory that is. im still trying to make myself into an android. the difference is that this time it's with flac files and scans of watercolor artwork. i need my stone hewn love for audrey to be reactivated. my soul easily retreats into itself. into me. can i kiss you sweetly?. i did admit that i probably do have some romantic feelings for her to catherine recently. she did say at a point that she couldnt reciprocate iirc. im unsure if it's a lack of interest or if it's that she knows how messy that could endup being. evening thunder storms. i. i sometimes tend to forget to plan for the future. i know that being a person involves these messy interactions. im so broken from seeing the face of G-d that i can only lay down and weep. life is pointless and art is futile but i wish i could believe otherwise. take photos of everything and none of them are special. get a film roll and you have to be selective in what you do. in what you take pictures of. i love you. i really do. i love the universe and the world. im shaped by and shape what surrounds me. im clocky and likely only attractive to other trans people but thats ok maybe. theres too many thunderstorms lately. i need to deposit a check. i did some artwork today.

elvis.

world spirit in a sports car.

great film. man.

thats the report for the nineth.

for the tenth. 

wooo. thats a different story. social exile part two electric boogaloo.

ive spent most of it crying, feeling awful, and vcing with catherine. not saying much. just. it's better to have someone there. 

i need to be like elvis. 

i think all i need is an apology. of "you fucked up but i acted badly too" from sadie or some other high divine figure. 

i think theres some amount of romantic feeling towards catherine and unsure what to do about that.

i love you. whoever reads this. thank you for existing. i wish. these shores of 5mbmh my.

tiger's tussle.

yesterday i released an ep entitled tiger's tussle. it is about trauma and trying to let go but not. i considered putting crosses instead of "t"s in the title because that way no one could write it as Tiger's Tussle. it's not that. it's all lowercase. i hate when people capitalize things i dont want capitalized. like my name. it's always lowercase. same with tiger's tussle. rym makes you put names as capitalized. which i understand. but also thats not me. it's all lowercase. seeing Death and Desire in Denver fills me with a sickness. i am working at a grocery store again. i am kinda weak and unfocused but i enjoy working. i am surprised i havent broken up with audrey or done so but then apologized later. lex walton qt'd my tweet and gave me exposure. i liked that. i have a complex relationship with everyone. i believe people change. ive changed in countless ways. all the track titles are lowercase. i believe in whimsy. i think i want to have sex with someone who if i had sex with her would lead to some social problems and im not entirely she would want to have sex with me. i would be easy to brainwash. people tend to believe what you tell them. im autistic and my special interest is lying. ive had a fairly fucked up life. i want to hold my girlfriend. id let a guy hit if he had the correct kind of he/they energy. i wish women i loved were more possessive of me. but i think i might get freaked out about that. but i wish i could see. if a woman calls me her little girl then i am hers. i am unfortunately your stereotypical doggirl breakcore producer. i wish people were honest with me. im stll not sure why i like things to be lowercase, it's definitely partly neuroticism, but also none of these things are important and thus why theyre lowercase, but also i like making people listen to me, to not ignore me, to go "i dont get it but i will respect it", i am defining my work as non-academic, because i am a small unimportant little girl but one who should be listened to and respected.

deli poem one.

harken storms, a reprieve from the dogs,

halcyon halcyon. halcyon days never been,

wrecked ships upon steel shores,

wild canine fury, torrid tongue lighting strikes.

restless summer nights, royal horses parade by,

rostam's tomb opens like a maw.

i talked to a field of clovers today, she rung me up and said i looked familiar, "mustve been someone who told you of me". ive never been away from boulder for more than a few weeks. i lied to get this job. im fine with lying. im fine with being a terrible person. i miss winter and sadie. 

nightingale tale.

"i think there is a part of me that still loves you" the nightingale says as she plays that old piano, wires held together by the turning twisting dreams of agony. the raccoon washes her hands and sits still, the rot and twisting vines overtake her, she stays silent and washes her hands again in spilled japanese whiskey. the nightingale knows that the raccoon is like all her lovers; her words only reach them in the form and shape of warbled cries. ghostly tiger made of ripped pages of ezra pound and ts elliot stalks out from the night in its wispy form and in skeletal voice echoes "you have never loved anyone but yourself nightingale". ireneo funes plays a picked string instrument, nothing original, nothing original. "july third was my appointed date of death that someone else stepped into" the nightingale sighs, "i offer to you phantom tiger all these pieces of art i have ever made, but i know that they are but ash before you". the tiger does not care, it plays in the woods of love.

poetry is a method of avoiding saying what you mean exactly and yet still saying it in clear tone. "oh hear me oh l-rd, g-d of israel hear me". cut notches into your combat boots wild hound. judge them et judge them yet again. no spell exists to mend a transexual mind.

august fourth.

i had a nightmare about my sister last night. i dreamed she was refusing to leave my room, i cut her with a small knife. it was so small. like an almond. im waiting for my life to restart. to resume. thats not how life works idiot. i am not use to trauma dreams. i need to clean my room. iron t hawk slings songs. i should so shrooms. i am a dog. i am tetra soho. i offered to let my tboy coworker hit because he is leaving and it would be funny.

7/28: picnic.