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tear my life into pieces

November 4, 2017

postman

I’ve decided that next Halloween the dogs can go as these two.

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scud

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I feel like there’s a nuance of a certain type of devotion in a religious person, where they feel required not to enjoy anything on earth too much so as to avoid loving something as dearly as they love the promise of the good believer’s afterlife. 

This adds another matchstick to the bonfire of assurance I have going here that religions were all created by extremely insecure beings incapable of healthy relationships with control and humanity.

~just a little something for god’s suggestion box~

If you love something, let it love as many things as it can. Loving stuff here on earth is the most beautiful part of being here. Don’t try to keep it from loving things by promising better stuff to love later on. Jealous nutbag.

anesthesia

March 15, 2017

Keep her busy in front of the mirror, and you’ll never have to worry about her anywhere else.

Begin her addiction young enough and long after natural beauty has faded she’ll worship at the altar of the bottle, the jar, the tweezer, the brush.

This is not the wand I choose. This is not the magic I claim.

drop

 

One time a couple of years ago I was hanging out with an old friend I hadn’t seen in a few years, and mentioned that I was learning to cook.

You? Are learning to cook?’ he repeated, incredulity lining every word like down in a puffy vest. ‘But all you ever eat is Rice-A-Roni!’

And I was not offended, because he was not wrong.

Several years later, I am still learning to cook. I have figured out what one does with gourd, and how to keep eggplant from turning out bitter, but I still cannot slice or chop anything very well, and every time I make eggs or pancakes they turn out unfortunate somehow; a different type of unfortunate each time, too.

I am trying, but the bottom line is that I am not very comfortable cooking, and a lot of the time the stuff I make does not turn out very well.

Because I enjoy curtailing my activities to those things I exhibit a natural skill for, (not), next week I am leading a team of volunteers in cooking and serving dinner to ninety Portland people experiencing homelessness.

Every time I think about it I break out in a cold sweat on my eyebrow and upper lip hairs and I have an urge nearly as involuntary as vomiting to smoke a pack of cigarettes.

If any of you are praying people, I would appreciate a word on behalf of my efforts in the ear of your deity; the rest of you please cross your damn fingers.

Do it for the homeless. The fate of their dinner rests in my incapable hands.

I say hey now now

February 17, 2017

Old age: finding a super cute tank top and being outraged at its price tag; realizing after closer scrutiny that apparently people consider this garment a dress.

I am taking a public health class right now, and this shit is blowing my mind. The quantity of disparities in healthcare between people of different racial/ethnic backgrounds, genders, and socioeconomic statuses that already exist in this country is staggering. The only way I can even deal with this information is to remind myself that knowledge is power and I am planning on using my stupid university paper to battle this crap as hard as I can for the rest of my life.
But you know what…ignorance is bliss. If I didn’t believe in the power of epigenetics to drive our personal and communal evolution, I would give up and eat pig and buy shitty cute slave labor clothing and close my mind to the pain of others all around me for all I am worth. With my eyes screwed tight, with all of my might.
i-think-i-should-speak-now
Goddamn knowledge. It hurts.

ragged wood

September 7, 2016

Apparently when I sand things it makes my subconscious feel like it hurts my teeth, and so I tuck them up carefully between my lips.

squnch

This creates a beautiful impression of my front teeth on my upper lip.

impression

Because of my fairly significant gap, I now have a weird little pucker of lip on the upper inside.

The upshot of all of it is that when I swig beer out of the bottle, the pucker gets sucked back in between my front teeth. It’s a strange problem to have, I’ll grant you; but I have it, and it is enough of a bother to warrant a yowl.

I am