fever dream.

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i watched the battlestar galactica miniseries. i liked it. so relieved to have another series to bury myself in. only problem is i can’t watch it without a certain someone.

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I wish I could live free

leavethesunshineout:

I hope it’s not beyond me.

settling down it takes time.

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‘the road’ was really fantastic. relentless and effective. now i need to read the book.

2009-11-27

Emotions, in my experience, aren’t covered by single words. I don’t believe in “sadness,” “joy,” or “regret.” Maybe the best proof that the language is patriarchal is that it oversimplifies feeling. I’d like to have at my disposal complicated hybrid emotions, Germanic traincar constructions like, say, “the happiness that attends disaster.” Or: “the disappointment of sleeping with one’s fantasy.” I’d like to show how “intimations of morality brought on by aging family members” connects with “the hatred of mirrors that begins in middle age.” I’d like to have a word for “the sadness inspired by failing restaurants” as well as for “the excitement of getting a room with a minibar.” I’ve never had the right words to describe my life, and now that I’ve entered my story, I need them more than ever. I can’t just sit back and watch from a distance anymore. From here on in, everything I’ll tell you is colored by the subjective experience of being part of events. Here’s where my story splits, divides, undergoes meiosis. Already the world feels heavier, now I’m part of it. I’m talking about bandages and sopped popcorn, the smell of mildew in movie theaters, and of all the lousy cats and their stinking litter boxes, of rain on city streets when the dust comes up and the old Italian men take their folding chair inside. Up until now it hasn’t been my world. Not my America. But here we are, at last.

i just cleaned the fuck out of my kitchen while listening to ‘the fame monster’. precluding that i shopped for three hours. there are steamy hot handmade potstickers on the table. i kind of like today.