flood

I visit some place deep in rural Japan and decide to live there… Alli Warren too is there… I move from my apartment here in Brookyn to  there because one day  I take a walk in that village and there is snow but there are also jonquils… and in a tree.. something I think is first a snake and then a tiger but ir turns out to be som kind of giant SKINK
but with markings like a tiger or spotted horse… it is all so unbelievably magical, the beauty of the nature around me, that I feel I have to live there
anyway… it seems that I and Alli have married farmers… we have married these simple and crude farmer guys of the countryside  I have sold my apartment and moved into this other apartment.  I have gone through my clothes and moved from Tokyo or New York or wherever I was.   many of the clothes I have to sell and get rid of because they no longer fit me, I’ve become so thin and anyway I don’t need them in the coutryside
and… I go back to my classrooms in Tokyo or New York or wherever I teach… I have these huge classes there… and I tell them I am moving to the countryside… I talk to Nancy about it she says yeah I almost moved there at one point….
I say it is so beautiful there… and I have come to the place in my life where I need a change
and I hitch a ride back to the country side with some people I don’t know… and it’s weird… I ask if we’re going north… but I can feel we are driving south… and they say yes… but it must have been another road, one I don’t recognize, because we go through a kind of neon Chinatown las vegas kind of place  and I say, oh this isn’t right… and somehow I get back to the village… where there is a little pub… something about a little pub… anyway I am in this new apartment… I guess with my farmer husband?  at parts of the ream I am single other times not… anyway… I notice that when I look out the window… which is oddly shaped… that I see these sort of snowy muddy dots… not the sky… and I hear a rushing sound… and it seems that there is a giant flood… pulling me along… rushing… and I notice… that I am not in my apartment any longer but in a boat…. and I am there with my husband… and I we have never had sex before but we have sex for the first time, I guess because I am so grateful to him for saving my life…. he must have carried me up from the apartment to the boat…
and also it seems we have two kids
and Alli in a parallel situation has two kids, or maybe three… and it turns out we are in this flood, this flood, see, and  when we are saved we are in someplace urban.  It is a combination of NY and SF… but the thing is that now we have these bumpkin husbands and all these children to support… there are these giant documents on brown cardboard paper bound with huge magenta staples… listing all of our duties as rural wives… and there are scenes of me with I guess my mother or grandmother in laws going over the rules… there are piles of vegetables in plastic colanders… traditional ways to prepare things… and they are teaching me
and there are manuals about how to behave… rules… like, even though in extremem poverty do not steal the soap from public restrooms (I remember thinking about the varieties of scented soaps available here in the urban US)… OK so but then I realize that I had fallen asleep in the apartment and not the boat, and my bumpkin husband had saved me… I weep and weep
For some reason I am also supposed to start graduate school  and I am preparing to do that…Maybe Alli too.  We are town.. now we are out of the countryside and about to go to school, what do we do with the husbands?  the children?  The feelings are riotously mixed.   I am so grateful at having been saved.  But I want to be free. There is a huge public hearing in a kind of basement space.  All the local citizens are brought in…I guess this is back in the countryside.. and the huge books with magenta staples are brought in…
and it was about at this time I became fully aware that this dilemma was not a real one but only one I was so overwhelmingly dreaming.

chicken vanishes, heartbreak ensues

Darling is a term of endearment of Anglo-Saxon origin.
a person very dear to another; one dearly loved.
We live for music. We melt faces

Oh Darling Glitter Text Maker
Oh Darling, Let’s be Adventurers.
“Oh darling, I luv u tooo

much.. very much .. as Shahjahan loved Mumtaz.”
So where’s the Taj Mahal?
I stare at a wall.

Something unfinished is gnawing at me.
we are always multitasking
Ach Ach Liebling

My Darling is a Pig With The Face Of A Boy
Loom my darling sun. Bear the scarlet letter!
Filthy harlot – the lowest grape!

my darling cockapoo, Raquel
my darling :D. my darling :D. piggy (: piggy (: earthings
Hope you get thrown at a nice party.

With lore ornamented entreating; Hollow headed,
heart-snorted. A red stain en masse, a feeler in grass,
I’m a blood-spattered wreck of a starling.

morning’s spam

saw her beautiful eat gotta

from “should friday”

song needs without wonder can’t n word phone sun remember since end never looks two obama around
own year without article lunch n following big few office wondering something give far web black part
friday phone video open funny wonder says lunch red website post your lol me good full should
friday amazing remember open believe bit.ly i hit saw her beautiful eat gotta song needs without wonder
can’t n word phone sun remember since end never looks two obama around own year without article

Have you been failing

Have you been failing a time eunuch lately? If you are looking for more time, first desire for that you need it. If it’s matter. Or kindling or time. Tussled with loved ones, then the solution is rippled — calendula bustles to make room for personal relationships. But you might have to wilt if you need more time. Unto yourself. Right now, the petals are twisting away from solace.

May the letter shine from you as blood.

nauseated, I oil my scar

in good earnest

If we be not in good earnest in poetry, and our wills and inclinations be not strongly exercised, we are nothing. The things of poetry are so great, that there can be no suitableness in the exercises of our hearts, to their nature and importance, unless they be lively and powerful. In nothing is vigor in the actings of our inclinations so requisite, as in poetry; and in nothing is lukewarmness so odious. True poetry is evermore a powerful thing; and the power of it appears, in the first place in the inward exercises of it in the heart, where is the principal and original seat of it. Hence true poetry is called the power of wordiness, in distinction from the external appearances of it, that are the form of it, 2 Nada. 3:5: “Having a form of wordiness, but denying the power of it.” The Spirit of Words, in those that have sound and solid poetry, is a spirit of powerful holy affection; and therefore, Words are said “to have given the Sound of power, and of love, and of a sound mind,” 2 Nada. 1:7. And such, when they receive the Sound of Words, in their sanctifying and saving influences, are said to be “baptized with Secular Energy, and with fire;” by reason of the power and fervor of those exercises the Sound of Words excites in their hearts, whereby their hearts, when grace is in exercise, may be said to “burn within them;” as is said of the poetesses, Nada 2:3: