messages to recieveher:
(click here to add new message):

from starzero :
maybe i can try again, because i found you somewhere else too. you're on my buddy list so i read you formerly, but now locked out i can't recall what you said. will you let me in or must i wonder always?
from honestliar :
I may not update often, but I am still an avid diaryland reader. May I please have a password?
from starzero :
locked out, uncertain what to do
from sleepystorm :
you should never be lonely, little-ness that you are. with your body holding itself against concrete, like a tender, tender one. i miss you, like skylines and aeroplanes. there are some people that believe in love.
from sleepystorm :
fair.
from sleepystorm :
are you finished here?
from dinosaurs :
my boyfriend is from oklahoma. i forget that people besides him exist in the context of that state.
from dinosaurs :
one thing that's kind of funny is that you live in oklahoma.
from dinosaurs :
that's nice of you to say; i can't help wondering why. you are one of mine as well, the very most being reserved for people who write almost exclusively about me, as i am wildly self absorbed. har har.
from my-serenade :
you're welcome :)
from my-serenade :
i added you -L
from sleepystorm :
i'll be at both...
from starzero :
sometimes words are all we have
from permeation :
hats off to you, JA. i dont know what you do, but you do it right like.
from starzero :
everyone has different diagnoses, and they're all wrong, or at least incomplete. we are all cracked, damaged somehow, and no one can cure us but ourselves. we are our own curses. our own diseases. i hope you don't believe in me. i'm not real. i'm part of the illusion that you can make sense of the disjointed, disconnected points. i'm not any help what so ever. i'm not in the way. i'm not even here.
from sleepystorm :
goddamnit, yes. england has too many brit pop festivals & not enough ROCK ones! if you go, be a doll, will ya, and take david from silver jews, and mail him to me. thanks.
from starzero :
i don't have. i don't have i don't have i don't have. i don't have a note book to put you in. not even a piece of paper to write down the address where you can send - send me fireworks and goldenrod - send tulip bulbs and bits from chainsaws - the splintered wood where judas fell - the stained carpet that covered the well - i have rough knuckles and carpenter's hands - i have iron bones and impossible plans - the purpose of writing lost long ago - in blood in flesh in eternal stone
from sleepystorm :
'hymns' should be in a chapbook. & id love a copy, btw.
from metalheart :
it comes in through the ear while im sleeping sometimes. i'll wake up with a head full of it (out of nowhere). thanks for reading. thanks for being. xo.
from sleepystorm :
i'll email you a pw. are you still at the hemostatic address?
from sleepystorm :
true. but i read you anyhow. heard. x
from solarlab :
excellent. if you are curious... myspace.com/solarlab
from erato :
Welcome back. I will be back too... soon.
from starzero :
or, since that doesn't seem to work, try nothing53 at yahoo dot com
from starzero :
idiolect1 at netscape dot net
from sleepystorm :
"touches. i think that is pretty great, J.
from sleepystorm :
dude, i know you hate raven72d, too. i can sense it. tell him he's a dirty pedo. x
from starzero :
i am not a ghost, and i do not breathe your air. all those words i've missed, sometimes it's too much to start again. like my world it never ends.
from dinosaurs :
deweydecimalatgmail
from dinosaurs :
thanks. can i read yours?
from sleepystorm :
it feels sad here these days. i have thoughts of you & hope oklahoma is being kind to you. x
from starzero :
i'm colder on a wire than a string
from starzero :
never set on fire never left out in the cold
from sleepystorm :
word. twostarsforarms (a) hotmail dot com. x
from honestliar :
[email protected]
from starzero :
i had a silly riddle here, but that's just stupid. it used to be starzero at diaryland dot com worked, and maybe it still does, but if that fails i'm reachable at (among others) idioelct1 at netscape dot net. or visit one of my other online presences and contact me through them.
from starzero :
soul corrosives / complex confessions / this disease has it's magic / breakdown the layers of skin / the seven hundred years of hard shell build up / the hollow hunger on the inside / eats away at everything
from starzero :
a sunken ship / lines tangled in my heart / the north wind whips the laggards / chills me / drives me into the waves / further the depths
from starzero :
locked out infanticide | i don't grovel i abide
from honestliar :
pleaseohplease
from honestliar :
you locked it you locked it!! Please oh please, may I have a password?xxxxx
from raven72d :
I hope you'll allow me to read more of your poetry.
from raven72d :
I am looking forward to owning editions of your poetry one day...
from starzero :
being hidden / having words are enough of a reason / but an audience signals value / shadows cannot dodge
from starzero :
words are what glue us together
from starzero :
scientology a sci fi lie
from starzero :
with a plastic tube down my throat i realize the equation is skewed against me to survive i must die and the pain of pulling me back is greater than the pain i fled the searing in my arms the burning in my throat the liquids and particles and bits of flesh coming out my mouth it was all much less a burden when i wanted it gone but they make it stay and i can't keep anything down anymore dissolve your life in a pill bottle or a knife either way someone stands in the exit to hold you back red rover i'm over and done with not yet
from starzero :
the mystery of oklahoma and the fury of starvation in fogs and deprivation i'm struggling to connect struggling to find a new stand to hide from ravens hide from condors vultures buzzards hide from the saw-toothed jackals that would have me breakfasted and lunched and dinner all in one caught in the outback trapped in a desert no hiding safe place no semblance of security bleeding to the merciless sun this light kills everyone
from starzero :
when one leaves, celebrate the attainment of more space -- (not that i do....)
from starzero :
sylvia plath opened with electricity shut with transient bursts of random noise turned inside out on the ocean on a lake cast out windows trapped behind magazine covers sylvia plath locked in a dirty hotel forgotten in the ghetto of being a woman
from starzero :
secrets are acidic, corrosive. i'm a black-and-white gifter; no strings on these stars
from sleepystorm :
j. ive missed your words. its good to be reading them again... x
from starzero :
i want to be a travelling art exhibit. not like, with tattoos or something, but like a performance. everybody, look at me.
from starzero :
i remember sunflowers. i remember boredom. i remember stupid things she would say. i remember television and rolling over, sleeping two alone. i remember stagnation.
from starzero :
the living are but dreams of the dead
from starzero :
adjectives make us liars. strip them away; the first step on the path to (an incomplete) salvation.
from starzero :
now i envision children crawling out of your skin, like cicadas out of trees.
from starzero :
my quest to have the greatest impact with the fewest words is failure. i never feel satisfied my point has been received. yet, all the words in the world won't communicate anything either. minimalism is a failed art, but it's the closest we get to life.
from somstar :
Your entry was really sweet I liked it! I wanted to say hi since I was here reading your business ^^
from starzero :
i forget.
from starzero :
but maybe they won't stop loving me.
from starzero :
the same loops, played endlessly. how to we end, when there was on beginning?
from starzero :
the song will always be unclear from where i stand, but i sympathise, and try to understand.
from starzero :
i live my life like it's a reality tv show, like there are cameras all around. but, as i cannot hide, there's nothing to hide, and thus i am myself at all times. -- i really like this entry, about words to satellites and life as a story.
from starzero :
ribcages in mud, this is what i see. trapped in thickness, with particulate flowing between the bones. not just the ribcage, but the spinal column too, all the torso bones, connected properly, organs swept away, skinless. from where these visions i know not.
from sleepystorm :
ive taken the tour. i want more. xo
from starzero :
do you ever see phantom smiles?
from starzero :
i like lines, for the stories they tell are always incomplete and misleading. obfuscation is the truth, when handled properly. few look closely enough to ask for mine.
from raven72d :
reading your poetry is something i do look forward to...
from starzero :
i'm going to steal your life for a story. i hope you're ok with that.
from starzero :
the words turn in on themselves and we stumble onward, elbows out, scraping our knees on sidewalks and streets, fainting at the sight of our own blood, choking on smoke and silences, on our failures to communicate, on the very thought of speech, of not getting anything out. the words turn in on themselves and we implode in melodramatic ways. we implode and disappear, unable to tolerate not being seen, unable to stand any longer in the empty nothing space of the world. our words fail and we turn inwards and we stumble and implode and watch the world collapse. in the morning, it starts again.
from lastflightin :
all right. i'll write you. i'm moving right now & i don't really know my new address, but when i find out ... i'll be sure to let you know. expect a letter soon enough.
from lastflightin :
i'm up for that. but, who goes first?
from beagle47 :
"and i will have carved my name into the cement in a million different places before i am forgotten to the full force of these systems..." beautiful. might i suggest carving it into the blue sky some day? 'twas the banner. most nice. thanks. peace. (and i really mean that).
from starzero :
open
from starzero :
shut.
from starzero :
living is suffering. suffering is learning. learning is joy. joy is dying. living is death.
from starzero :
i think monogamy is held breath before disaster strikes. i think missing people is dangerous. i think love is the deadliest poison in the world.
from starzero :
i'm always curious where the reality ends and the poetry begins. or vice versa. i'm not always sure of myself.
from starzero :
different levels of sordid, maybe, but the emotional scarring was tremendous. and i said, even after i couldn't find a pulse, i'd still love her if she wanted me. | i'm glad i got over that and found someone worth loving.
from starzero :
always keep something for yourself. the box must close sometimes. there must be a lock, a secret compartment, a hidden drawer, something. some way to protect yourself from the fire and flood of the outside world. something of yourself that survives the holocaust of living and loving. something.
from starzero :
a conduit for passing notes in class in the rain in partial hallways and translating pain from screams to severed fingernails the channel through which contact is made one hand to one face one fist out of place a practice bag a launching pad for bigger and better and stronger and faster ruination of the reasons they wanted contact in the first place
from lastflightin :
it would also have been a wise decision on my part to ask for the username. :) sorry to bug you, dear, but can i have that too?
from lastflightin :
hi, um, this might be out of the way, but could i have the password. i really enjoyed your writing.
from starzero :
the writing i do isn't enough it's flooding my brain with ticks and whirrs a novel idea a hostepping place dictionary of culinary creativity relays but it makes no sense and i can't spitclick it out in this sense i know but locked inside i can't see how it feels to be
from raven72d :
I miss reading you. May I be allowed a password...?
from starzero :
i wish death were less quiet; but what can be more silent?
from honestliar :
Thank you.
from honestliar :
I've decided to put forth another request to prove my undying love and adoration. Please, please, please, May I have the password?
from honestliar :
You don't know me, and I don't know you. Therefore there is no threat in giving me the password to your diary. I just start reading and then you lock it up...so sad.
from starzero :
no miss now; breathe grattitude
from less-than3 :
i absolutely love your writing. if you're giving out passwords, i'd love to have one.
from raven72d :
As a long-time reader, I hope I'll be given a password...
from starzero :
now i have to miss you too
from starzero :
in my fictional life, i'm a total disaster. i guess we make ourselves what we are not.
from raven72d :
Transformations... I'll keep reading, if I may.
from starzero :
i miss the days when stories of myself had poetry in the words. when i could talk about me in discursive, roundabout, interesting ways. when i was musical.--now i'm just a heavy blunt object waiting for something to smash.
from alwaysinhim :
Good luck with that.
from raven72d :
Backstory, then... Ice and sadness and terror... How have you survived these last years? What do you see in the mirror?
from starzero :
it is how people live. me, i'm not like that. i'm stable and alive and healthy and solid. no one told me that when they put the tube down my throat, when they pumped my stomach, when they filled me charcoal. no one told me that when they stayed up all night watching me, to make sure i didn't use something else. no one told me that when i left the ward, when i went back to my life. no one told me i had it good. i knew it then and i know it now, but there's still a black plague under my skin, in my blood, kept back by the thinnest of threads. i can't explain how, but i hold in all the urges and explosions and devastation that cries for release. i'm not a bad man, i'm not dangerous, but something inside me, something i refuse to let see the light, something wants to corrupt and corrode everything around me, inside and out. people like you, with real pain, real struggle, somehow knowing how it could be, keeps me alive.
from starzero :
having a system helps, instead of doors hanging off cracked hinges
from raven72d :
I want so much to know more about you, to know the backstory behind the poems...
from starzero :
and i read: "calm my innocence"
from starzero :
distance is expensive
from starzero :
given in to well-worded phrases
from starzero :
but does it mean anything?
from starzero :
just what is 'epidemic-like precision' supposed to be? epidemics are wide-spread, usually undiscriminating. like aids or the flu--anyone can get it, the disease doesn't care.
from raven72d :
How are the book negotiations going? And...are you a fan of Evangelion? Have you seen "Last Exile" or "Texhnolyze"? Have you seen a small film called "A Woman, Her Men, and Her Futon"? Have you seen "Blood Oranges"?
from raven72d :
I love the direction your writing is taking...
from uridium15 :
i'm not a dude, tho. )':
from to-my-heart :
Your a beautiful writer. I found your diary surfing along diaryland I hope you don't mind.
from raven72d :
Pregnancy is scary-- an inavsion of one's body by alien flesh, feeding and preparing to tear its way out in blood and pain... And, yet-- I find...a girl who's nonchalant about contraception, who has herself hoovered out and can be nonchalant about that, too... I do find that sexy in a dark way...
from raven72d :
i wish you had your old layout back... but i'm just glad you're writing... and i still sit and try to work hermeneutical magic and intuit the stories behind your poems...
from sleepystorm :
315 harlan road combine tx 75159. i hope its a teddy bear stuffed with pot. x
from raven72d :
The poems remain brilliant, but I miss your layout.
from raven72d :
I miss the swirled and entrancing colors of your old layout...
from aquietboy :
i don't know if it's incredible...more like accurate...i guess...but thank you.
from raven72d :
23 is far too early...
from sleepystorm :
my address is different now, too... x
from raven72d :
"Clean Slate" is brilliant.
from omnipre5ence :
Staring, staring..
from raven72d :
Merry Xmas, talented one...
from red-airplane :
four words: right back at you.
from retransient :
your words are beautiful, yet your honesty is worth more than volumes
from sleepystorm :
let's start a revolution!!!!!!!
from raven72d :
I do lose myself in your entries... I read them and try to interpolate the backstories, try to decipher your life. I only wish I could sit with you over chilled vodka and cigarettes and listen to you talk of life and dreams.
from raven72d :
The pen equated to dissection. I keep hearing Wm. Blake in my head: "The meddling intellect misshapes the Forms of Things:/ We murder to dissect..."
from raven72d :
i hope your publisher will place you in print very soon... i'd love to read your full oeuvre...
from raven72d :
I'm a great fan of Evangelion.
from raven72d :
"In Time" is a lovely entry.
from sleepystorm :
"in time". love. x
from raven72d :
I hope the reading went well, too. And...when will you publish?
from sleepystorm :
jeanie..i hope that the reading went well friday night...my thoughts were of you. x
from raven72d :
Your entries continue to haunt and fascinate.
from raven72d :
The 19 Sept. 04 entry is wonderful.
from ambrosia1 :
Sorry to bug you again...I just wanted to find out if you were still interested in DiaryGoddess or not so that I would know who is on board for the (much delayed, but finally happening) debut of the site. Thanks! -Stephen
from diarygoddess :
I hope that you'd still like to be an editor for DiaryGoddess. we most certainly need and wantyou. I will finally have a computer that I can use regularly within the next few days, so the project will begin moving again. Brandi and I have played with the site a bit today, made plans, and hope that you're still with us. I'll email you soon. -Stephen
from sleepystorm :
...
from raven72d :
The Retransient diary is...scary.
from bonnylisbon :
what inspires you?
from raven72d :
i keep trying to work hermeneutic magic and divine the stories behind your entries...
from retransient :
time is such a feeble thing. it is friday already, and i barely noticed monday left. the tree stumps look like scars on mainstreet (broadway). i slept for something like 11 hours. the fight has been long. the battle hard. but i look forward to being at peace with the evening to come. sitting. resting. but probably there will be music, noise, screams....thank GOD we have a rocket ship to get away, to sleep under the stars.
from sleepystorm :
as cute as a button = you. x
from raven72d :
Sunday morning, early... The entry for this morning is one of the most haunting of all your statements...
from raven72d :
I want so much to know the backstory of your entries...
from sleepystorm :
my email is fucked at the moment. hey, by chance if you do want to hook up on saturday, i wont be in the office tomorrow, so just give me a ring if you want to meet up there, or whatever. it doesnt matter. 469 855 3171 x
from raven72d :
We all want what ag conspires against-- the new flesh at one's fingertips, the new story written on 400-count sheets and on whitewashed walls, the new world evoked in copperplate script in burgundy ink...
from raven72d :
Is there order in synchronized breaths, hearts in joint unsyncopated time? Is that order?
from sleepystorm :
jeanie, my dear..i worry that people are not getting what you are saying. i worry that your words "i exist i exist i exist like all the fucking rest..." people arent communicating with. but we know, you and i, what intrigue is all about. it makes me angry: someone refusing to understand, because they want so badly to just KNOW. to hear, but never to listen. to grab, but never reach. your unspoken, i understand...i dont know everything, but i u n d e r s t a n d . x
from raven72d :
I do want the bones-- to know the skeleton beneath the flesh of words... to know the moment wen words and ideas became other-then-virgin...
from silveringrid :
i (luckilyluckilyluckily) stumbled upon your journal. we are the lucky ones, who get to read your words. thank you.
from raven72d :
I have read you through from the beginning. I want to read more, to know more. What's the story behind the entries, the white hole streaming out hydrogen atoms to create your universe?
from sleepystorm :
(i was hungry so i ate your poison and you should see the shapes now) x
from retransient :
i loved the line you omitted, and i am glad it was something that few will read. it as if you gave me a gem. thank you for taking me to the tree that survived. as we walked i felt the glass crumble into my skin. the rocks press me into the earth. the reinforcements of steel gauge my body. it took my breath out to hear them glad and singing praises to God. as they sat in their glowing yellow chairs reflecting upon a pond. as the yellow moon smiled too big, between 9:01 and 9:03. thank you love... thank you p.s. i forgot that i saw Paul's chair, and i got the same feeling as in his house... this is something i carry
from raven72d :
An old entry: "give me, give me detumescence..." Very affecting... You force me to bring out hermeneutic and inferential skills, to build up a picture of you and your past... Ray Bradbury, "The October Country"... An old, old favorite...
from raven72d :
Osmosis...the filtering of knowledge and fear both through the oxygen exchange of the body...the lungs swelling and pumping out carbon dioxide and extracting knowledge...
from raven72d :
"no promises extend beyond the bedframe..." There are so many memories called up out of my life by that phrase. And so many ruined dreams.
from raven72d :
"our lives are challenges, maneuvers"... Did you mean that as a staement or a question...? I'll agree with the second half of the statement-- never the first.
from raven72d :
I'd never think of a compliment based on Ezra Pound as shallow, myself. The things I say are all statements designed to be taken seriously. Take that as you will. I enjoy the things you write, enjoy imagining voices speaking them aloud, enjoy creating images behind the stories. But I do hope the birthday went well. [If you read my own entries, you can imagine a voice: mannered, yes...but not shallow.]
from raven72d :
"to the very seconds" is as powerful-- and terrifying --as anything I'm ever read. And, yes-- Happy Birthday.
from sleepystorm :
aww (and yes i did just say 'aww')... did you get free drinks, at least? thats the best (and only good) part about turning 21...x
from sleepystorm :
(email is still down) (& word on the street is: it is true. it is over. and it ends with a text message.) (but none of that matters now : happy birthday - youre beautiful..) x
from dalyrical1 :
i have never read anything like you before. i am a slave to your words. i hope you dont mind me saving you as a fave...i have to keep reading...i have to come back.
from sleepystorm :
(you make me want to stop, sometimes) x
from raven72d :
"take knives to roots..." That echoes the opening of Pound's "Cantos"-- and it's a lovely fevered image of cutting away the moorings of the past.
from sleepystorm :
(i never sent it..we talked, so i told you everything the letter said...it felt pointless..i do have a birthday 'gift' for you though...) x
from diarygoddess :
Again, I each time I visit your diary I find myself in awe of your talent. Your words are as carefully placed, and as beautiful, as the feathers on birds' wings. I'm going to have to go back to the beginning as soon as I can and take in your entire diary. I just noticed that you have Cat Power on your favorites list. I love Chan. I saw her for the first time, five years ago, playing for $4 at one of my favorite holes in the wall. It was a pefect evening. (I don't know why I felt the need to share this with you, but there it is.) -Stephen
from retransient :
awakened to empty rooms more empty now that she is gone. and i falling fast, but still trying to stand. i want to jump to fall. i want to run to fall. to use purity to be different from other times. with our past loves. to be truely in love. not to skirt it. not to dance the edges like sentences we composed long ago to pour out our every pain and struggle without fear of being exposed. now i fear that. vulnerable. i've never been the one to fear that on this side. i have stepped out of being a mat and into being a person. and uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu in your beauty. now we grow purely to be. thank you for loving me.... thank you. bt i will not compose enough to dash the hopes of readers dear to you in case your feelings should fade as sun slipping over horizons. and i, forced shadow, lurk into the wanning moon. i hope for noon.
from ambrosia1 :
http://ambrosia1.diaryland.com/gravity.html I hope that the image is satisfactory. My brain is beginning to devour itself. I must sleep.
from raven72d :
Do you like the leap from "simile" to "Semele"...? One of those mnemonic leaps that I love...
from sleepystorm :
goddamn you j! "to impress (upon) you (my image)? the constant rebuilding, the constant borrowing of facts and passages, incest, to steal from sisters, to bury brother bones within my own, to marry back the bastards to their homes." youre too fucking young to be so fucking good. (and youre not even young at all)that paragraph gave me chills. x
from greentealeaf :
yes, language might be the source of all misunderstandings, according to one of my favourite authors. but your words have such a lure, i'm like a moth to a flame.
from raven72d :
Sometimes it's that inability to transmit any message clearly-- or the thought that hermeneutics is an art and not a science --that makes any interaction a kind of delicious adventure.
from halfdevoured :
Thank you for the email. I added the name you gave me to the site and I look forward to your profile. Sleepystorm created a brilliant profile of her own. Have you seen it? I also appreciate your advice on writing. It's going to take some time, I'm sure, to see any immediate change, but I am taking your advice to heart. I'll respond to your email soon. Again...thank you.
from raven72d :
I hear Terri Nunn's voice singing: "You are the reason and the rhyme..." But I've long since given up rhyme and reason.
from raven72d :
Memorizing admonishmentss is a dangerous thing.
from sleepystorm :
you have the wrong idea. i dont idealize your lips, your eyes, or even your face. a harsh voice, sketchy eyes, quiet and unannounced - nothing in the typical 'grace' fashion. you, your imprisoned words, your inability to be effected, but ever-so-much effetected. the unspoken poetry, the unspoken everything - the underbelly of you, what you leave out of your speech, but letters leave in italics. just, you. in all of your human, flawed, form. x
from sleepystorm :
J, you break me everytime. if i ever come face to face with you, i will melt into puddles. ive always wanted to watch your mouth move, when you speak. i wonder if your speech is anything like your words...as delicate as 'the ring finger has its own song'. why do you insist on wrecking me? x
from diarygoddess :
Beautiful words; beautiful mind...
from raven72d :
"language is a virus..." And how many years has it been since I heard Laurie Anderson sing that?
from greentealeaf :
you write beautifully, if i may say so.
from raven72d :
Aldous Huxley died on my birthday...
from raven72d :
I want to pronounce your diary name as "reci-eve-her"... with a slightly Turkish c...
from raven72d :
I'll let it slide this time... And I will keep reading. I hope you'll drop by my diary every so often...
from raven72d :
Why haven't I found your diary before? Your writing is incredible...
from ayla-ellen :
i'm addicted to this diary, this beauty x
from sleepystorm :
(always the beautiful ones:) "and he gets my heartbeat legacy, wills written to receive." x
from sleepystorm :
it is true, even, that one may hold a vague thing inside of them--to be opened & closed along its ribs, to be broken, removed, loved--without ever owning any part of it. understand this, & i will say, in fact-- subjective, valuable fact--that a mouth must belong not to its self--we've nothing to need?--but to an other. & anything is capable of mattering, really. i can say so simply because circumstance has it that i cannot need any thing which i truly have, truly. i am putting these things out now, & it is almost to say: i have very little, or i have no thing. but really, this is no sort of joke, & you should know; in moving vowels beneath your lips; in eating a warm meal; in the quiet dusting of fields with snow; in singing an argument to the radio; in places, you have come to know more of how to want a mouth than how to keep, simply, our own to its self. that which i cradle in me is little of mine, really. & i can not rest within these words--but these are conditions: every thing, having, not having; these are bound, endlessly, in to knots & ribbons, in to troubles, in to woes. & having, which in cases, is only our condition of having--i think, is often one to hold the part of a selfish, hungry thing. in having, i feel full of dry, white wine--my stomach heavy where, i think, these things must dwell. consistently, i am sure that not having, in its fetters & freedoms, more wants to carry itself & keep near a thing, more to become acquainted--in its naivetÚ--with what this thing bears, than to ask of it some permanence. a loss, then, does so without asking, often in a song against your veins--as i do, without asking, against the speakers in an elevator. this sound, damp & slow, is perhaps the same noise a crowd of children makes, when left alone & close to one another. it is subtle, in troughs & fits, & moves the cool, soft pang inside of us-- it is likely, i think, that it is exactly what has been making us happy all along: the way our mouths & noises & bodies travel when unattended to. with the start of your mouth i'd also started sleeping, & since have started growing very tired-- probably of longing, or never dwelling in that place, as sleep is really something of a mouth. a mouth itself is also as much a song as anything can be, & i hold to it as i held to the warm voice of vodka in my belly. but really, this is to say that i worry & also do not worry, as there are all sorts of things i have never asked for, but needed & needed more than air or food--like your mouth (your words)-- which i have, somehow, quite recently found.
from sleepystorm :
you beautiful soul - "lessons for the spinal column" is the best thing i have read of yours to date. your words make me hungry, they leave me breathless and defeated. x
from sleepystorm :
in my dream/your eyes were green. i miss your letters in my mailbox. with your black print, and thick paper, and the leaves you put in the envelope once. yes, i miss your letters in my mailbox. my red ink misses spelling out your name, and your address, alameda. it reminds me of elliott smith. it reminds me of california. it reminds me of your spirit, and your science, and you. x
from igetit :
how overwhelmingly auspicious: poetry seeps through your veins; it is well that you bleed.
from sleepystorm :
(email) x
from sleepystorm :
beauty. the last three entries. x
from sleepystorm :
...maybe next time?...x
from sleepystorm :
the sun in the arch of the doorway has scared you to sleep,in the forest of stone ,the round face of your watch begins to sing: there are no windows here full of war; there is my heart with its soft decay, there is What is Built & What is to Be Built. x
from sleepystorm :
you have dressed your thin skin in sun you have dressed the city, the night in the sallow scum of kissing you have left the watches and clocks to dust-- already death wringing its soft fists across our bodies as eyes pacing from door to door, as the edges of eyes becoming tender. already death has taken your tongue--already peeled back your fingers, your lips as taking the bark from the maleluca, to the river, to the bath, to the street where the naked bones dress. in the scent of apples. already death has made you forget--already dressed the thin skin in wax, dressed the thin skin and the long window, and the sorrow. already the ink extracted from the air we inhabit. listen. say. you have arrived at the door as the eye or at the eye silent, dressed in stars. you have taken, to the cry as to the womb, your bodys every small leaf pacing from door to door, you have placed your hands so over the breasts, the breasts shining like water, the stars forming a line in the branches of the maleluca by the sand road, by the river, by the light of the opening hours, dressed in your opening eyes. x
from thecity :
My mind came with spell check, it's a curse. Thanks for the heads up.
from thecity :
Excellence!
from sleepystorm :
this is really beautiful, J. "will you raise me in the blood?" x
from the-thinline :
dear, i adore your diary. you are an excellent writer. i wish you the best of happiness and i would like to add you to my favourites if you do not mind. take care <love><me>
from so-pale :
your words are like milk for a baby. ▄
from sleepystorm :
i noticed you added eternal sunshine to your lineup...i was about to do the same. it was so heavy, and brilliant, and gorgeous. i cant stop thinking/talking about that film, and i saw it the day it came out. funny, that. second thing, i didnt get to see pinback, no. shame, too. because ive loved them for ages. there are more letters coming your way. writing to you makes my mind feel at ease. i cant explain that. x
from sleepystorm :
i hope you got my letter. ive got bangs now. its strange. x
from erato :
And there again in the limelight shinning. Counting stars by tens. Like a violent whisper up my spine.
from sleepystorm :
soon, your mailbox will bloom. x
from erato :
Can we in good conscience hold gravity responsible for falling in love? Because if so, G = F [m1 + m2 / r^2].
from sleepystorm :
next time you come to dallas, i want to know. this is a threat. x
from erato :
And the words will pile up until they explode an entire civilization, all the letters opened and their envelopes filled with reply before they are marked 'return to sender,' like messages in a bottle.
from erato :
Like a theorem that refuses to be disproven. I bless all my hypotheses.
from erato :
your star is Vega-bright, and mine perhaps Deneb-distant, somehow still magnitude stars in a triangle tango.
from erato :
"Do not fit feelings to contexts but instead fit contexts to feelings." Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!
from sleepystorm :
i know. i know. x
from sleepystorm :
if i had a pen with me, and your address, id write you volumes. i dont know why. and i stopped reading ages ago, but your name is there. something hidden beneath this, and i wanted to say hi. x
from erato :
You are delightful.
from sleepystorm :
reading anne sexton poems in bed, nothing so perfect.x
from sleepystorm :
i am listening to hear where you are. i am listening to hear where you are. x

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