novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- heat whining my room hotboxes all of the heat in our house; heat rises and i'm in the upper corner, sweating and wishing i lived in alaska. i can feel cotton inside my cervix, almost feels like its filling up my belly. today was so hot that xxxxx and i didn't leave the house until the sun set. so hot that i walked around in boxers and a sports bra all day, running streams of faucet water down my back until they'd form lines through my sweat and become as hot as my skin. today i read "valencia" by m t and was amazed that she did it, She Wrote An Entire Book and She Even Got It Published. i wish i could do it too, and i'm halfway counting on doing it someday, but she has done it already so i'm even more in awe. random pieces of my car keep falling off. the day i moved to portland part of my fender came unscrewed and dragged behind me on the freeway until i recognized its leathery, plastic smell. i pulled over in sacramento and had some guy lend me a hammer so i could pry the rest of it off with the pick part of the hammer. he gave me plastic bags to wrap it in and i shoved it in the trunk and just kept on driving. a few months ago my seat broke so i hammered it back together; the left passenger door rarely closes so i hammered the screw-lock thing back in. i only know how to fix things with a hammer. for a year i drove with a sadistic seat belt that would only loosen once i was IN MOTION and BRAKING at the same time. and the black smoke, the spray painted bike rack, the gas gauge, the white smoke, the transmission, the brakes. i feel so bad to keep driving it but i'm dependant. i want to be brave but i think i'm too needy. and i am abstinent by default because my standards are just too high. i miss everyone when they're not here but i don't do anything on days like today except sweat smoke and read books in my underwear. i want my friends to know, to just know that they should show up on my dirty porch whenever they want. they can sit on the counter while i do dishes or cuddle with me in the rickety angular hurting couch in our manic living room anytime they want. or hell, we can even leave the house, that would probably work better. i am so bad at making plans that i regret cancelling or forgetting or not calling but i always do it anyway because on days like this everything feels like sawdust and all i want to do is float in a kiddie pool and not think. i miss you, i'm sorry, i miss you. blah, blah, blah. i should actually call or write someone right now, but i've got cotton in my stomach and nicotine smell on my fingers and there are no words. my housemates and xxxxx are in the manic living room watching the olympics. occasionally i'd join them and point out older gymnasts that should date me. i'd get annoyed at myself and hide out in my room until it got too hot to stay in there so i'd sit on the dirty porch and smoke and read. i'm trying to quit smoking since now that i've joined the swim team and quit one of my two jobs, i can't financially and physically afford it anymore, but it's hard because smoking has become reflection. in california you can only smoke outside unless you live in a smoking house so you always have to stop what you're doing in order to appropriate a cancer stick; this pause naturally becomes reflective. and once you "reflect" with a cigarette, it's hard not to miss having something to do with your hands and reflect afterwards. we have lots of beans and flour at my house. everyone is required to eat it whenever they eat here, which makes me either not eat a lot or eat out. w bought me pizza. we talked about getting our hearts broken and feeling lonely. that restaurant was so full of talkative, hyper berkeleyans that i couldn't really converse, but he understood. i think i'm going to be a superhero for halloween. all i need is lots of blue and red spandex and a big cape. maybe i'll just make a cape out of a towel. if xxxxxxx decides to be a genie i'll be her assistant instead of a superhero: i'll follow her around with a giant round bottle and a cassette-corder blasting christina aguilera's "genie in a bottle" looking solemn. the cotton feeling has travelled up into my throat. it is attacking my teeth. 10:21 pm - 9.18.2000 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||