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gonna glide down

September 18, 2017

I just watched a man kick his dog in public, in front of his two kids. Because I am a useful human, I immediately filled with magma rage and overflowed with tears. Across the space between us I met his daughter’s eyes. We each looked away. 

I sat there and tried to pretend I wasn’t crying, and swallowed all the murder I had inside me for his thick dull neck and his thick dull heart. All I could think of was how I wanted him dead. All I could think to say or do were venom things. And his daughter looked at me over and over and tried to keep the dog good. It’s ok, dad, I heard her say.

I left. I couldn’t think of anything to say or do that wouldn’t fuck his under ten year olds up more than I assume they already are. If you’re already managing your father’s rage at approximately nine, you don’t need the latent fallout an irate strange lady who calls him out on his brute inhumanity potentially entails. There’s nothing helpful you would learn from that sort of interaction either. You already know. 

It has taken me more than thirty minutes to really breathe. During that time I mostly willed him dead, dead as possible, as fast as can be. Amazing, I think, how inherently violence begets violence.

And now that I can breathe again I can think again. And how I wish I had a better handle on my emotions. There actually is one thing I could have done in that situation that would have helped everyone out, including me. I could have walked over and asked to pet the dog. I could have said how good it was being (and it really was, like most regularly kicked things are). I could have said how my bad dog could never be so nice in such a stimulating place. I could have looked into that girl’s eyes at my leisure, and shown her that she is not alone without putting her in a bad spot. 

And I will never forget this. Righteous indignation gets you and nobody else anywhere. And everywhere there is a chance to do something real if you can only move past your feelings and put your own violence aside.

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now your calendar’s complete

September 13, 2017

I let the dog out with the cat this morning for the first time, and while the former wore the rapt beatification of a kid on the first day of school before all of those harsh realities set in, I think the latter is pissed. 


She just killed a bug and ate it looking at me, even though she knows I hate that. It always makes me feel like such a murderer; the calm, deliberate way she goes about it reminds me of selecting meats in the deli department. Sometimes I wonder why, when they were thinking up universes to create, no one took a moment to say actually Ted maybe let’s skip the one where they all have to eat each other to survive. A little dark, ok buddy? We can still totally keep the chainsaws for hands one.

*cue dirge

September 12, 2017

The damn dog has nothing if not the very best taste in shoes. 




I loved you. 

RIP

runnin through the yard

September 9, 2017


Today I began the Herculean task of ripping out the plant life from the planter in front of our house, and digging the rocks out of it.


I can’t feel my muscles anymore, but I have made good progress.


I am about an eighth of the way done.


I am going to have so many beautiful agates, and be so insanely buff.


In related news, does anyone want a thriving mature yucca plant? I am going to yank her out gently and am hoping to rehome her. She has lovely blooms.

yucca 2

yucca 3

 

stoned me to my soul

September 5, 2017

The strange red gold sun


And the strange red gold light it washes the kitchen with


Butter for color scale, I guess.


When I walked outside this morning to a stark white January sky and that dull blood orange of a sun, I was like ok it totally is the apocalypse and they’re just not telling us dammit. Well at least my zucchini are still growing.

Then I learned that we just have more forest fires, as close as Cascade Locks. The truth is almost worse, somehow. Somehow when I imagine the apocalypse there is always a lot of forest left.

that old soft shoe

September 1, 2017

August

captive

vive la

compelling loss

terry

acquiesence

greenbug

drink

stowaway

waterdog

toes

innovation

wheels

miss u

soothsayer

August 30, 2017

Something sent a chill across the water to say that it was coming.

Something left calms in the deep to say that it had gone.