Escalator Malfunctions all the way to Garlic

I took the liberty to tell the manager at a store today that he should not let people walk on an escalator which has malfunctioned. I told him he should tear them a new ass hole for leaving the thing broken, whoever they are. It should be fixed as soon as possible and yellow signs should be put up on the entrances and exits.

He did as I said.
I told him the manufacturer used to be a client of my old job and they never lost a law suit against anyone.  It's always the business's fault.

Now, for a re-cap definition of 'fit spiritual condition'-

Spiritual fitness is like walking up a down escalator (although I would never advise this)
if you stop walking,
you end up right back at the bottom.

Spiritual vampires?  Not sure what to do about them.  Just ignore.

Last Cigarette Keeps Happening

That's all I have to say about that.

No, it's not.

Why do I need to smoke?

Endless cycle:
coffee
cigarette
shave legs
shampoo hair
brush hair
apply Murad
sleep
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

coffee
cigarette
shave legs
shampoo hair
brush hair
apply Murad
sleep
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
(b+e+e+p= violence of morning)

pah.

Go to the building on the other side of campus from Starbucks.
Ask the lady for paperwork.
Put paperwork in bag.
Go pee.
There is lotion for your hands in the bathroom AVENO.
The wind is cold.
Procrastinate.
Wasn't the paper work for learning disability?
Is it procrastination or deficit of attention?
Avoid the cold.
Pick up brochures for Spain, Italy, Africa, seminar at 2 o'clock.
It is one.
I am one.
I can't afford the trip.
I forgot more paperwork.

Back is sweating. How? The wind chill is negative degrees for sure.

Walk through the parking garage stairwell.

No room for interpretation.

Coffee.
Again.
Repeat.

Today I am supposed to be psychic

Today is supposed to be psychic.  I'm supposed to be tuned into people's feelings.

This is what I see when I close my eyes:

I see only my self.
And I see a yellow glow around me.

That's all I have.  I know Joe is coming back from Virginia, only because he told me.

I am supposed to be able to predict what's going to happen.
And this could lead to unsafe daydreams.

There is a star on my left hand and a wooden ring on my left.
There is hardly anyone around.  Ghost town.  Coffee shop.  Starvation diet.

Changing plans.

I read tarot cards excessively for the past month ;
So much that things happening tomorrow seem like yesterday.

Ten rods and Eight rods.  The aquarius and the leo who rescue me aren't who I first suspect.

I feel sorry for some of the people who came up in the readings with all of the suffering.
Especially myself.
But at least I have resources.  At least I can, you know, PAY people to help me.
So, that's on my side.

To only tell the future or change the future?  Wouldn't that be nice?

Swamp Creatures on a Pedestal

Three hours worth of movie.  Five hours worth of sleep.
Countdown to Fourteen.  Nothing is in the cards.
Except that I am supposed to move away because of this.  Not run away, but move.

That was very clear and repeated.  It was advised by my subconscious and my conscious mind.

Men carrying rods and looking to unload them on the horizon of the city.  Yikes.

I shot arrows.  Remember cupid is evil in the real myth.  Don't forget that!  I'm supposed to take a boat to a place, no less.  I love being in other places, but I don't like to travel.  It's probably because of the terrorist stuff and the Stockholm syndrome!  Why stay?  Really.  There's no reason.

L is in jail and so is C.  Probably forever.  Like birds in cages.  They both have watery, sparkly eyes.
The photo at the top of the stairs where my Grandmother had her stroke?  The photo is of her father and his six brothers.  Some of them played instruments.  Tommy played the piano.  The other one went to California.  I don't know much about the rest of them.
Her father had Hodgkin's and they had him on so much morphine at the end that it would kill two horses.
Well, that makes sense.  The Dharma.
Both Great Grandfathers worked for the railroad.

It makes sense that I am where I am.  Except the boat I need to get on to become an Empress.
I don't have to worry about the men carrying the rods.  They were the ones who picked them up.  Sorry for your burden.

MJ is in Brazil.  I wish I was there. I picture us wearing white overalls.  That would symbolize security and the new year.
E has a baby seat in his car and has a bunch of intimacy and patience.
S has no sense of the importance of other people's time.

Gathering up a list of pros and cons.  One list is longer.  We all know the answer.
To act as if we don't would be just a scene in the drama, pretending.  The costumes aren't even that great.

My first thought today was of footy pajamas.  I gave them as gifts in my dream.  Only if I count backward can I remember the thoughts about wearing a onesie.  It began while I was doing laundry last evening.
These days are only for figuring out what to wear that will hide me safely and taking three showers a day and sitting in the tub until the water is gone.  Rinse, repeat.  Wrapped up like baby Jesus.

JC received a pair of pajamas in the dream.  LGJ, to be exact.  He needs footy pajamas as much as I do. We could wear them like space suits and be astronauts and come back to earth and be born out of the water like all the myths and like all the movies.

Be careful not to put anyone on a pedestal of course.  We're all just swamp creatures with too much technology returning us to root level at the base.

Chakra separation ceremony, picturing Siamese twins in the kaleidoscope.  Being far away is the answer.  Travel by water.  Listen to audio books.  Learn another language.  Spend all the money at amazon.  Eat crackers with the family.  And leave when it's time to go.            
    

Algae and your subatomic particulars

I'm not sure how to begin this; always fighting for my health.
People say it's because I smoke, but one came before the other, I remember.

Oh, I never can sleep?  When did this happen?  I remember being three and not sleeping.
And my first cigarette wasn't until I was seven.  It's not that simple.
The cigarettes are a symptom and for all those only comfortable not talking about the underlying things,
they'll brush it off as something they can understand.

It's comfortable suffering.
Could it be that simple that the path through the woods I've been running down since then has pushed people away and isolated me from humanity?  Sure.
Probably.
Or maybe it's a self-defense mechanism.  Not maybe.  Definitely.

I can't tolerate wasting time with you if you're ignoring the signs.  I can't even speak your language.
The Chinese doctor is making me herbs to relax.  He stabbed my trigger points with needles.  He said I was a know-it-all-eagle.

Sigh.  I am supposed to read Tao te Ching and figure out how to be sick of sickness and not be a know it all.

Short Sentences Abound

Magnetic refrigerator letters
Will spell out the next sentence

Carnelian

No one swindles the Circus Ringmaster
No one can see into the house from the outside
The Jack Russel can jump four feet high
There is black ice on the walk way and an evergreen over head

It's his job to destroy Babylon, he said
And I feel safer around schizophrenia-talkers
than Jive-turkeys
Hiding, reading books, talking with the priest and the lawyer
and the woman from the death metal band in San Francisco

Angry burners, east coast burners, orange semi-precious stones
bursting purple in front of my eyes
Flat anterior, pressed, he holds and shakes two knots where the wings
would have been torn from my back if I were an angel like the pictures on
ceilings in Rome
scars from when I wept

-- Angry hurtful angels in fountains, harming each other, harming for entertainment
Holding the swan by its neck?  Remember?

Jolting the knots between his fingers, shaking them to mimic their vibration
A low hum bass drum
"I didn't see her, but she was there two feet away from my drum getting off
and I always listen when older people, especially women tell me something..."

Someone hurt you; I'm listening
You didn't deserve it.  You haven't healed.
You didn't deserve it.  You're a good person.
You need to honor that.

It's highly emotional and no doubt physical.
Very physical.  This is real.

I sit on the toilet and watch him shower as he slips into fake Patois.
very fake.
I watch him pace on the porch, checking his phone.
I watch him look up his favorite hip hop songs on the computer.
I watch him watch me test out the new work out equipment.
I watch him shake a sleeping cat from his coat.

Why are you talking like that?  Why are you so nervous, why is this song so sad?
Why are you training so hard, and why didn't we see him climb in there?

Why am I here?  Why did you go away?  Why is there so much distance everywhere at all times?
Why the space?  Why the silence?

She is in her office talking to me over the phone, describing her perspective from paradise, from the world wires.
I tell her, this is hard for me because I don't know what happened; all I can describe is the
aftermath.  Backtracking, she sums it up.  She tells me what my role was.  She interjects a piece of the puzzle that I need to hear again and again, which is 'never again.'
She advises me not to listen to advice.

It's the best advice I ever took.

That Ice Cream Melted Really Fast

That Ice Cream Melted Really Fast
That's the joke of the day
If you go on a date with an anesthesiologist

And I'm not sure why it's funny or even if it's funny
Keep your pants on,

seriously
If it's a choice

But you can always blame the propofol
That way your honor is protected

I came out of the closet.

I totally came out of the closet to my mom when I was 26.  I came out of the closet.
And no one believed me.

No one.

Now I have a different thing that people can make fun of me for or not believe me or call me silly for.
In fact, 2 different things.

And you'll never know until we're close friends and/or you thoroughly examine my book collection.

Everyone has been missing for four months.
Amanda said she was hanging Xmas lights outside all day for Jay's mom.

So, like, now, code word for 'you're an asshole and no one wants to answer your call or texts' is that 'I was out hanging Xmas lights and also my phone died.'

Syphilis?

Sisyphus.
Sisyphus.

Oh, riiiiight.  Right.

That Graffiti Looks Like a Tarot Card

Persephone blogs twice in a night as tenderness was lost in the Internet
She weeps for her longings as musings of what should be are lost
like a lighter in the bottom of her purse
except worse.

The music stopped, but we're still dancing as the kids roll face around us
in Miami
under the freeway
you'll usually find something you weren't looking for
especially when you're so actively looking

Conversating with a vernacular that only comes out at four in the morning

The darkest part of night, dew on the car windows, mist in the air
A lost person in a Lexus, then a Honda hum past
Distant enough not to see

Like illegal tint on the front side windows--- you're not allowed not to be seen
To let them see your face is to shame yourself

Frozen in a time capsule in the living room, day dreaming of 2008
Day dreaming of lost love
Day dreaming about advice given and not heeded
Dreading admitting that society's paradigm is bigger than us all

Fighting an uphill battle

Kk said to wait a few months and tell her again that divorced guys are good
And I wondered how she knew or if she knew anything in particular
I could have pressed
But didn't as she nodded and batted her eye lashes saying 'you'll find out what I mean, so don't even ask since you're so smart'
Smart ass.

I never take advice.
Not even my own.

Feminism is totally dead, I can tell
Because whenever I write about it in public someone explicitly
implies that I am racist for it or something along those lines
And that kind of makes me not want to analyze anything anymore.  

"You don't even want someone like that THINKING about you."

Keep your head down.
Even though I am a master at applying theory
If I am creative enough, any theory can be applied to any THING

So what's the use when there isn't a real authority on anything?
Rebels without a cause commenting all over the Internet like ugly graffiti

And that's real talk because I'm an avid fan of graffiti in general
It makes me feel alive when I see a masterful piece of work with heart behind it
With color and flow and placement
Train cars are the best; a traveling art show like an anonymous circus

Into the shadows like a mythological woman on a tarot card
awaiting a magician
awaiting a throne and a scepter

A chalice

Don't even talk about a chalice.

You've got to be kidding me, Persephone.
It was over before you started.

You get the death card.

True Simple Desire and Relief

I once met a four year old who couldn't sleep without watching Tom & Jerry cartoons
And it made me remember a time
when I believed in comfort

I believed there was a source of comfort

I knew there was respite

I wanted things

I demanded them and waited

And they were real ; I could get what I wanted

True simple desire and relief

Someone to talk to who will bounce back all my ideals
Question me when I am wrong
Accept it when I am not wanted

Someone to dribble the ball down the court with

And make shots.

It's a three-pointer or nothing?
What?
You don't even want to rebound?

Tuesday Truths.

Stepping sideways and spinning
Bending; and molecules react in my skin
like a backward magnet
So, it could be over and it's not my fault
Except for my being less confident than I should be
...considering...

This was not available
Not for comment
Not for warm embraces

Not for mystery
Not for a mid summer night

Whistling in the dark and hoping
isn't the sign of the times

And my sharpness, my edge is too dulled out
Halfway not so much
Half way is soft to touch
cold to touch

Niceness polite ; too deep
Is not enough

Anymore, anymore, anyone.
All you get is a grocery store, elevator version of it.

I drive away.
I have about ten friends and no one is available to talk it over.  I came to this conclusion myself.

This is what I want.

I want to feel excited and blinded,
and dizzy; like all the fishes do : swimming in a school...
Like I have iridescent stripes along my ribs.

It would suffice if I felt like a jellyfish.
It would suffice if I went to see the dolphins
and painted the ceiling until my arms were stiff and I couldn't move
and you would talk me down

From the ceiling.
Talk me down from the ledges
When I do things like try to argue that everything is bad.
And your argument will be convincing.

That's what I want.

This is what I have.

And it's wickedness.  It's making fun of evil.  It's sorcery.

Really?  It would be fun.  The seeds are sown for now.  Questions.
Public.  Private.  Escaping.  Rolling.  Relaxing.

No pain.  Thank Bagavadgita.
The timing is off.  It's a cheap fix.
A belt.
A rubber band.  Loosened.  Fixed, passive.

Mundane.  Love.  Checked.  For a white lie on Sunday.

Leads to truthful Tuesday.

Driving Wild

Re-write your life.
Making it a biography about a famous mastermind,
Pull out all the stops,
Make yourself a strong runner with an unbeatable stride,
Win points,
Be competitive
But also loving.

Pinpoint what the people around you care about and get at it,
to make more of it.

Bring joy to the table.

Be consistent.

(If you watch me for long enough, aren't I ? )

Jump to it, mastermind.

Backfiring plans are just coincided with a re-directive.
Do it strongly
And surely

As they say, "Change Positions"

Look opposition in the face, lonely bird.
Fly at night,

Fly by night.

You always knew you would be here.
Masking this does what ?   NOTHING.

Using quotes for no reason like a marble copy book full of dreams,
Write on the walls.

Write a mantra in lipstick on the mirror.
Kiss it.

Always kiss it before you kill it.
Kiss the roof when you run a yellow light

Bellow at the moon
Find your birthplace
Draw a line to the equator and jump on it like a zip line.

Be wealthy.
Be warily aware of poverty thought.
Don't stock up on things like it's the end of the world, Baby.

It has just begun.  

A Subtle Pause Every Day for a Lifetime (when Frank was dying)

Sitting in my living room, almost sweating with the heat at 85 degrees, I listened to a Rolling Stones song that I listened to on repeat when my father died.  In the past, I would not be able to breathe when I heard the song.  Now, it is not so much the case.  I'm not sure why.

What do people go through when someone dies?  

I have used a story I know about elephants grieving to allude to what the human emotion is around death.  I can tell the story because it has resonated with me and saturated my experience with a deep and earthly understanding.

For me, I went through regret at first, as if it was my fault he had died.  I was overwhelmed with guilt because I wasn't a good daughter and we weren't like the fathers and daughters I saw in movies.

Yet, I relate to Ariel and Poseidon in the Little Mermaid.  My father knew everything, but he still didn't understand me.  It wasn't until I was an adult that I found out that he DIDN'T HAVE TO understand me to be there for me.  And he was.  And I was a teenager doing what most teenagers do.  And he was like my best buddy when I was growing up, which brings me the literal & very realistic relation, most relative to human grieving.  

When your buddy dies, you call out.  You make a call.  You sound the alarm.

It is exactly what the elephants do.  They live as long as we do and longer.  They are younger than Sea Turtles, perhaps, but the elephants are mammals.  They are like us.  Their brains are the same size as ours, if not larger.

When one of them dies, they make a call.  Their herds call to each other and the signal reaches hundreds of miles.  They congregate.  And they form a procession.  And this is a fact.  

It is how I understand death.  It's been that way since I was 16.  I got a hold on it.  

I can meditate on the image in my mind and I can feel it in my heart and my gut.

The bottom of my feet become warm when I think about it.  

When I think I know it all, that means I am in trouble, so I say this with the sentiment that the unknown things in life are OKAY NOT TO UNDERSTAND, as long as the elephants know what to do.  

My cousin, who was my father's best friend when he was a child; she wrote a poem that won an award.  She read it for an audience recently.  And it was about an elephant.  The elephant was beloved.  And I don't know exactly what she wrote because I wasn't there for the reading, but I am certain it was 'something else'.  That's the word on the street.  And I mean, literally, when I was walking with an agent of the Mayor on the sidewalk on Gay Street, he knew about the poem and made an "Mmmm" sound when he thought about it in recollection.  

My cousin describes my mother and I as "other worldly," and I like to think it means we're tapped into something else.  The other stuff that we can't quite know about, but we coincidentally make connections that make for a subtle pause.