Monday, May 26, 2014

i hope that if something happens to me

the knife someone left in my hallway (mine is the only apartment on this floor) could be some stupid college-kid thing or sinister. 

if something happens to me i sure hope emily and joe are texted, and jefforama. 

but, shit, I haven't gotten around to making sure the babies get all my savings and anything of value that can be pawned. i don't think my brothers need to be my beneficiaries. the babies for now are the most logical choice. 

i miss joe, and i wish he were here. that knife is creepy and i'm a sentinel tonight. 

sentimental and sentient.


since november

i wish dad were alive

so i can say, "i understand

the way she is, and why you called her a bitch

after the divorce

why you exploded that word from your lips after such long consideration"

(not excusing his own issues

but i think it's funny: i'm not the one who married an abuser

yet somehow it's as if she never did)

i bet the woman who told me i was stupid for years and that i was the most boring person she'd ever met when i was in second grade

and glows with everyone else so they think she is this bastion of radiant kindness and patience

even those she has alienated once they flock again

oh, it must have killed him alive all those years to leave such slug trails and find that hers

odious as they must have been

vanish into thin air

Sunday, May 25, 2014

typically typistically threadbare

i have had enough of apps

so i can't edit my typos

this iPhone deal sucks lately

i told jeff not to make it about anything but what it was about

and he stopped trying

"you think i don't care about you" and this is the only reason

i keep him around

he fucking grows up immediately or within a few days when i piss all over his lies and obfuscation

but he went from 30

to 37 in a week in--late february?

last week his hair was saltier than ever

this morning his goatee and pate were almost purely white

which is really fucking flattering

but o! the shock! a goatee white as time

but goddamn that eyesore

he dresses a wince

the tears of the litter, high above the crowds

after david, after the way toolworks fucked with me for demanding that no sexual abuse ever occur on the job, and, hell, compounded by joe--and

the gorgon

i totally bawled after four different totals at lane bryant (i'm not caring that my clothes are tattered and few, i must lose enough to accept myself as lovable and healthy and able to fit into at least a third of the clothes in storage...but my tits feel so much better, my back is aligned and my left leg isn't as tortured--and he

my favorite uncle and formerly crush-worthy cousin are jeffs and there's an inside joke about the bens! so this guy is my most trusted friend right now and jeff is just a nice way to put him--


is gonna die with a stream in my hair that will suck to pry apart on the couch. just looking at these 40Ds in not-38DD bras!

but nothing at the store fit. i'm an 18-20 proper, i weigh that much, i wear 18s in jeans again, but at lane bryant even the 14s i could try on were too big. not all were designed to be crazy loose but nothing fucking fit

and the dress is gorgeous. one bathing suit top in a 16 fit. if i manage to heal this time i think i'm buying a bikini. i know it took two weeks to tone my arms noticeably at a size 10-12 so

it won't be too hard. if i get back into college boys

i have to; they still think i'm cute but a nicer back would cement everything

and jeff is getting too old

this morning he asked if i was crying

i laughed and didn't mention the tears flowing from his asshole accidental insult

but yesterday i'd told him to stop making our argument about anything but what it wasn't about and he shaped up

so all this and i bought some new bras. first the total was $84, then $96, then $91, then just ten cents under $99!

i kept protesting that their math was wrong

got a "you white bitch, you shut up, we can do our jobs" thing from the older of the cashiers

kept explaining that each bra was $20 and was told it was "taken care of!" the younger woman was newer and so apologetic but she was so not at fault! new to the hierarchy!

how does lane bryant/caciqué justify keeping on a cashier who rings up three sums until it hits $100 and refusing to let me explain? she was gleeful to let me know that my deafness was a way to control me

and i ended up getting $34 refunded by the manager

and, yeah, the younger woman and i had had a misunderstanding so $6 of that was a return on something i hadn't wanted...but that was a genuine miscommunication. those can be so funny

but i was so flustered i wondered if my guesstimate of $27 still owed yours truly was so off i wasn't thinking

and thus

my tits are red velvet cakes

Saturday, May 24, 2014

acute clerestory

the nave works.

i loved pillars of the earth, the miniseries.

the whispers "omigod commie butt found all the sex bits"

on my way to jim perry, wasn't it, and this gaggle of RC admirers were about dying with the sensation...alism.

but then again

i can't wait to watch the singing detective again

the original series

he fights dirty

and i told him when she found his first e-mails to me

and that it was really unfair to her and horrible, and that we were just friends

because we met and i started kissing him back and he was just as good as joe

damn, i mean damn! only three guys in NYC kissed that well

and floyd oh that was my favorite kiss and oh vincent my second favorite

but said i couldn't do any more cuz i realized i really had feelings of companionship with joe

so i just reminded him that he ended the platonic thing by

raping me and that he needs to quit the sanctimonious assery


"i need you"

you would be shocked how many men

"i need you"

and then rape me on their way out

for saying, "ehh, you just don't meet my standards anymore" and usually "better watch what you say about women, you stupid motherfucker...that's my house"

and he pretends i didn't say that

being mean or picking fights

i hate being mean and anyway

if i really am smarter or deeper why should i treat them badly

they didn't check any boxes before birth and neither did i

and anyway

that leads to rape more often

gorilla glue&the wrong surface: up the flue.


but he just won't go

i pick fights but he just won't leave

but i can't stand not being me so please

pick the lock so i can unpick

the fights

pick up my mes

and keep all my own pieces

Friday, May 23, 2014

true love

but now marci and i are working out a life map

just in case

so in a few weeks

i will begin to petition

for my true loves. just in case

because they are my favorite things.

but by now they aren't who i remember

so dearly.

so clearly, and clearly i have no issues with working things out amicably


but, gosh, the wondering: who will they be?

artists, degenerates, tour guides in a post-apocalyptic wasteland or new-planet pioneers?

lawyers, boxers, NBL druggies, one of each of so many spectacular geniuses or failures and generous sprinklings in between?

i didn't really turn out wrong. i've met a lot of tormentors along the way and i haven't met anyone who doesn't agree professionally that i have the right to accept myself as not damaged and the cause of my sexual abuse, the right to just like myself and the way i look, and demand, not request or deny, that other people not tell me i'm ugly, the right to pursue degrees and careers despite pissing off people who feel entitled to better grammar or whatever, drawing skills, even...the right to complain about sexism and audism in class and at my colleges, and the right to understand and believe that i generally interact with people well, respectfully, and that i'm actually a better person than most people i talk about. like, they believe every rape story, and ilene actually outlined ty before i got to his characteristics. she's like, let me guess:

and i've always felt compelled

to write


and understand,

and i think it's more important

to pursue the two other things professionally

and teach english for fun and for free

since, uh, that's just group therapy with some lessons. i break rules to make it work and that's how it is. find each person's hook, and i think i have a fairly universal one to expound on perfectly in ASL, as observed. why not break the rules to make them all work? and i can keep track of each student, even the "let's date, you smart woman!" starry-eyed "but can such a 'hearing' true ASL deafie exist!?" kids/young men. i see no reason not to teach everyone using my own criteria because it actually works. most everyone cries and then spreads dem proverbial wings

right, and maybe.

maybe even that, i think, so i can moonlight--

and the tykes

i keep starting to pack for NYC

then it's like

"oh, right!"

so i make jewelry, punching needles into vulvae



and i have raving fans

the dust devil in the vacuum

there must be two.

first, no matter how i try, i can't be me without words, puns, writing, telling silly ASL stories. it was implausible.

but, well, second. i loved floyd and still do, but out of respect to the fucker, it's a "you in the universe, much happiness to you" microwave-ready meal of positivity. so, yeah, david's mom had me rattled. almost seeing floyd tell me i'm worthless and ugly, vincent and david too, and it was hard to keep from flashing back.

so: floyd&vincent made me want to really be nice to david; then, well, i thought he was a real kick, and his foibles were so entertaining i took to him like a rind to brie. i gave joe that chance too.

so i don't actually still want to be with or love vincent. i just can't talk about what happened; our first date was honestly.

he was falling in love too.

what he said to me was shocking. he was cruel in telling me off after he decided i wasn't raped, or incested, or kind, worth anything, understanding, laidback, fun. he said i was a poser waiting to trap, manipulate and destroy him.

and that he never had feelings for me.

but i pinched his ass, browning out, close to a blackout after just three beers. because

the look

said everything. we had the same lock i shared with josh

that trilling songbird of electricity and recognition of eons shrinking into ions


don't tell

i knew as soon as i saw fatso

that he posed a danger so great it came jaw-in-maw with something like love. that he was determined to hide it. from that first day at MSSD, by the chalkboard--

he knew right away that i was competition and that it excited him, and that i wasn't pretty enough to show affection for. i went stone.

all i absorbed from his morphing eyes led to contempt, wariness, and a fearful hatred.

but how does a 14-year-old whose books are fluff and who's teachers' <~~ yep! pet even contemplate the patriarchy?

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

the baby defense

joe has huge sausage lips. teeny cheekbones. big blue eyes. intense blue so it took just a few weeks to forget the quality they share with fatso's. 

if he wanted something, he'd stick out a lip and try to look like he was coming down with a case of the self-pitying doldrums. i had a lot of patience but he looked like a fish doing that so i started cutting that shit off soon as i saw the eyes and downturned mouth. he tried to treat me like an ATM one night and i was like, what did you just do in front of your fucking friends, kiddo? 

so i cut that shit off at the root. after a few weeks he went crazy on me. addict. stealing my painkiller, seeing a bullying druggie pal whose pill stash was just huge...well. looking at me like a 29-year-old baby with a bushy 5 o'clock--

i would just roll my eyes and tell him not to bother. 

and i loved n&e to death, but i didn't want all the housework and two babies and school and the non-felony salary and the feeding and clothing and laundering and upkeep and shopping and all for two growing boys. with joe just going out "for five minutes" to smoke a cigarette and coming back after an hour, knowing they were fed and close to bath time, then going back out "for a cigarette."

i loved them but that and being assaulted and the one with gas money--he was warned. specifically about that. i would adopt them but it seems like i probably can't. unfortunately, i have the least likelihood of abuse of anyone they know as their parent. except for his oldest brother and his lovely wife. I love them but he works for P&G in arkansas. 

the babies are really too awesome. the abuse i've seen frighten them is not. 

Monday, May 12, 2014

the post-secret

ben moore was all, why didn't you use photoshop for post secret?!? i was all, uh, have you ever seen a post secret? i figured different levels of realistic art and collage skills would be appropriate because ahem that's what makes them interesting enough to read. and the gally ones for the yearbook sure were stupid. all of them about some stupid conquest or other and some with words that just don't match the plot.

but post secrets aren't to be photoshopped. the point for a yearbook and for secrets like that and even gally sextrysts, the point of telling someone is to humanize the experience.

these were so lame a lamb couldn't wobble any worse.

so stupid. then he started all this vitriol and i think i tossed the cards i made just because keeping the file as "work done" is so fucking lame. some made it to cincinnati and joe was like, if you do better than this unicorn, then yeah, i wanna see your work.

it wasn't that i didn't love him. he uses almost everything as ammo and i was like, hey, boy, i bought you some paint and some acrylic ground, and canvases. that didn't work, it made him more paranoid that i'd use a slip-up against listen, dude, you know, i don't like to paint around you either. i stop or do mediocre work because i don't want my feelings hurt. so you can just relax because we feel the same way but you're crazy talented and i'm talented except for painting.

but, damn, he couldn't stop blowing that gasket. he had rational discussions but instead of catching himself, the more he let go, the more his fears skyrocketed. and the times he almost killed me were really fucking frightening. throughout july and august i was like, dude, i love you. i chose you. like, my fourth or fifth love. so chill. between the raping, the few killa shots, the outbursts and defensiveness, the clawing and slapping, all when i compliment you, i have got nothing awesome to look forward to with you. so leave or change.

it really doesn't feel good to be apart from someone whose addiction has caused such severe fear, whose lifelong fear has transmitted into addiction and is now transfused on the human level to a sexual partner. i really don't hold with being substituted for a parent. joe got off easy.

the last guy got laughed at, was asked to turn the picture of his mom over, peppered with questions, then was stopped halfway through, and i met his brother after an earful about their upcoming thanksgiving with mommy dearest.

either it was weird creepy shit or she's raped him. he was all idolatry when i told him i didn't like him and would never see him again. he was in touch for years and it's been as long as i stopped signing in to AIM, in fact. in 2011. i never blocked him because he was truly, truly lonely. now, at 36, i wonder if it's partly because he's so shy (he is!) he actually knows that very few women could handle that girth. it took us maybe 20 minutes to get it in, and he said the noise of me finally stretching was indeed audible. it felt like a monotonous electrical zap.

what a guy. i kept telling him to take the picture of mommy off the wall and go out and meet women. and i finally was all, i don't like you, you're dumb and creepy about your mom, so i can't see you again. so for the last couple of years he was like, "i know. but would you please?"

i don't like worrying about people so i tried shaking him off my leg. i really worry about him sometimes. like, he seems like a decent guy, and clearly he isn't aggressive even after years of no sex. people just need to get up off that couch and get the fuck out. i'm going crazy here. where is there to go?

and now this j is trying to start something up with me. i am not having it. not romance. he apparently has fucking divorced and is like, mmm? i told him it isn't gonna happen and that i oughta just disappear because he's way too serious. nope, nope, nope octopus.

damn the asshole. now i have said no to living with him but said i had been looking forward to it to smooth things over when he said he had no intention of living together as a couple. then he fell all over me and was like omfg i thought you were saying you didn't want it!

oh, my fucking. the sex is great but sex is sex. i told him i didn't want him to get confused between a little naughty sex talk and love. he's married and he's been obsessed with me since we met. he was like, my dick actually gets hard! what!? this medicine doesn't allow for that but it is going crazy. so what? find some other new pussy. only he's like, hmm, no, this is it for me. you.

sorry, not my canoe. i'll start kayaking.

Friday, May 9, 2014

the joke's on him.

i actually have learned that the guys who won't eat women out are more likely to rape me. i tell them to get lost and they go berserk. but they're not the only ones.

and they usually say they don't want to eat pussy unless a girlfriend really must have it, then they're beholden to duty.

and i think it's funny cuz guys still say i taste great and detail it. i find it entertaining how they each describe it. they also still say they're lucky i look amazing naked.

no squishy waistlines from jeans that seat differently at different weights and shapes or bras that feel great but actually too snug.

but now i'm old so getting fat again has given me ripply thighs sometimes. AIEEE WHAT NO PLEASE AGE DON'T CREEP UP ON ME

weirdness: dr. philness

it's raining but just threatening most of the time. infuriating.

so i left the TV on and walked back back in. sucked into this story. she does seem to be lying but it seems to me she's too angry not to look her rapist in the eyes but looking at dr. phil all the while. she may be talking about the last incident after the time he's crying over. that would make him credible.

they often do that, remind you of the time things were consensual, be it another, steamy night, before you figured out you didn't like the sex or that he didn't deserve it? hmm? men can block their drawbacks for as long as they think they need to keep their guard up.

like fatso. yes, we all lie. i never tell people about being told by fatso that he refused to touch or look at, or lick, my pussy because pussy tastes nasty.

i laughed and said i heard very differently from everyone else. he told me a few detailed stories insulting women we both knew. i cringed for my friends. he was all, ick, ick, ick! and incidentally--and he said things i don't often think about. my outrage is justified. i said that all the forced blowjons over the years had tasted horrible and burnt the skin off my tongue, dashed my tastebuds so everything tasted mayonnaise.


so i said, quite brilliantly, that i oughta just say no to sex altogether forever, since he was averse to pussy but expected me to stay a slave to his gagworthy mucus. never!

he'd swaggered into my room with a letter. "too bad!" "what now?" "too. bad!" and he flicks the envelope so it bends sharply at one corner. "you coulda been my first."

"what makes you think i was so eager for that? why are you so sure i want you now? i had a lot of fun." i had lost my virginity to my incidental virgin josh. i was heartbroken until the tip of his penis reached my vagina and then there was an incredible surge. in the dark, his black condom gothier than his wardrobe, his sandy hair glowing and his eyes wide clear flowers leading into thoughts that couldn't ever stop, thoughts that shared their multitude of transcendence and burden...

and he said, sort of shaking me, deaf people know how to touch tenderly for attention but not disruption, "i have to tell you something."

i was dying of sadness looking into the face of someone who fucked a ton of girls and was just gonna forget me tonight. i was glad he didn't ask whether I was a virgin. i snuggled him and he was on his long skinny elbows. "what?"

"it's my first time."

"really!?" (he really did love me. he was the perfect first love. when he'd asked i was sure he was worth the sex before inevitable heartbreak.) "it's my first time too!" we glowed smiling into synchronicity.

"here's the letter." i refused to read or look in its direction. "x wrote me from college. she talks about it. haha! she beat you to it."

"and you think i'm interested? just go find someone else to bother."

my lesson was being locked in his closet in cogswell/krug with the light off most of the time. for 3 or 4 hours. three separate times. then his roommate was like, "what's that all about!?"

Monday, May 5, 2014

so funny it's splenetic

she's like, "i won't take responsibility for your choices anymore,"

and i'm like, "mom, for seven years now, on and off, i've been telling you--"

but she cuts in with little jabs and

"mom, this kind of stuff is what i mean."

and marci is like, "it's okay to ask me to my face!"

"do you?"

"...ask the words! do i...what?"

"do you, ah--" right into the eyes, calm down, breathe right, steady and aqua--"believe me?"

"about"--well, i forgot that line. but i won't take this down.

funny. finally saw marci's grammar. It is missing just tiny commas everybody misses anyway, and that's about it. she corrected herself later and i was like, "uh, i read it, and now it's wrong." She double-checked and laughed her ass off; she had been right and here i'm usually crying over losing friends over grammar. i hate it. it's something i tried to destroy my knowledge of but it came back in two weeks. i left clif. losing my grammar was worse than losing all homes.

so it's never gone away again. i won't let it. but i moved in with clif because mom was nasty mean. life-sucking , bone marrow-harrowing mean. so finally i'm sure we have to talk or split up.  like, no-funny-stuff for real. she's tried funny stuff for seven years but it never changes. the hook and the bait don't jibe.

ain't jive.

so i gotta end the story on my note. marci and ilene impart wisdom i am not at liberty to jeopardize anymore.


and i

have changes

to loose.

(also a pun including "lose," so contemplate further. there are six sentences here. some include eliminating one s/o. the seventh may be too convoluted.)