Time’s a revelator.
August 25th, 2009
7am office good morning.
Gettin’ deep before coffee. Drip.
This is about:
This week, it’s friday jamz.
August 21st, 2009
The end of this week just calls for it.
This is about:
I’ve got a dreamcatcher now.
August 21st, 2009
A friend said that makes me some sort of lesbian. One of those growing-olders in khaki carpenter’s shorts with a wolf on my favorite t-shirt, howling at the moon. Crystals all over my house. An affinity for owls. Well I do swim at the springs a few times a week,and a lot of them frequent the waters, but last night felt like meditation, breathing breast stroke underwater bubbles for a good five seconds at a time. Floating. In time. And space. Eyes closed, focused on this growing yellow light in the space between eyebrows. I wear a sleeveless shirt to swim, because it’s cold water, spring-fed and I’m shy and well. It’s nightswimming. It just feels different.
Tank top. Control top. Power bottom.
I used to be on the cover of Camp Piomingo’s brochure. For years. Piomingo, they told us, meant fork in the river, and they’d take us on a nature walk to go see where that fork is, in the Ohio River, and they’d tell us a lover’s leap story and hope we went to sleep early but we’d make hobo stew and s’mores and think, man I want to be a Native American. No, that word didn’t exist yet, an Indian. I wanted to be an Indian when I grew up.
I got my blood bubbling in San Francisco thinking more on the point that the higher vibration people seem to run on, the more switched-on they get, as the wellness train continues to be greening a corner near you … the closer we are to going back to the earth, to using only what we need, to communing with nature and respecting the energy of one. That we are all a part of. The closer we get to that, the closer we get to Native American, in my opinion.
Maybe I’m getting what I asked for.
This is coming next.
This is about:
The view is amazing.
August 20th, 2009
The hill you have to walk to get there: not as much. But this is us, sitting on the grass near fags in banana hammocks on blankets with books and bowls and me, even with my measly camera phone, nabbing something awe-inspiring. The place I want to be.
This is about:
LEGO my Tito.
August 12th, 2009
Er, I mean Jermaine.
I snagged this screengrabbery off dlisted (a gossip fag better than Perez) regarding a new LEGO movie in the works. I have a rule that I don’t write LOL unless I actually chuckle and it makes a noise. Out loud. This ROFL’d me. Srslee.
Dude looks like a LEGO.
This is about:
Humpday jamz c/o meteor
August 12th, 2009
Last night I laid on a blanket with five friends and watched the sky light up, this bright green light looking like someone was hovering a big god-sized sparkler just over the golf course we inhabited. A friend’s beaux: “I think someone’s fuckin’ with us. That can’t be real.” But, oh, it was real. And in that moment, I thought of life, death (what if it just kept coming toward us, it waaaaas really close) nightswimming, sex, water conservation (had an idea of a campaign: mellow out, promoting people to “if it’s yellow let it mellow… to save water) camping and love. I’m dramatic. All my friends know this. But, it was real. And it changed me. It really did.
At least for this week.
- Watch today’s top amazing videos here
This is about:
There are truths in this world.
August 11th, 2009
Like when yer sad, listening to The Postal Service will probably make you cry. When you are a good tipper, your waiter may or may not remember you the next time you go back. When you are a bad tipper, they definitely will.
