somewhere

I am a little beast in here, a beast for you 

babe.

who has fingered me? don't stop touching on me. don't use your words at me, leave your swoll fingers afar from. I'm grippable. take my city from me, push it out my holes, fill my brain with other-fluff, the stuffs of else. I already knew, read ahead in all the books of this. once I was at your house and we were fighting, I was in the bathroom and you put on fade into you by mazzy star and I started to weep. I thought it was an example I could grip, of you connecting to me. and you hadn't any idea I felt your playing this song to be a reaching out for me. I started to cry because it felt like we were in the same place for once in awhile. you were hearing & responding & sending it back out. but then you changed the song in the middle, and I looked at my tearface in the mirror and the illusion was spoiled. welcome back, I said to us. but always remember, to never understand should never be a surprise maker.

2:49 am voicelog

the even like you
fleshbrain
sketch my feet in the sand
wait for me I'm on the salon
laying here legs outstretched feet taking
a little diff in the forever from forever ago
I wanted to read you but then I remembered
that I don't even like you anymore
but if we're still on there, that, I like me more
everybody knows I like me more what's not to like me more
so I'll try
with my voice with my feet in the sand
I'm out so its legs pointed toward the river
to the dark water and the swish of it and the glow from the streetlight
in the dark of everything in front of me from the trees below to me
waiting for someone to show up so I'm not around here
anymore
surprise me forever for the middle of nowhere
come at me in the dark of the water
learn me learning tell me
your whole thing to me stories
we're at the gas station what are you going to get
I'm going to pick up some beer and some condoms
do you need anything
no I think I'll be fine thank you
its 1:42 a.m.
I'm standing in the light at the Maverick
I'm watching our bikes
I'm watching that easy cab
listening in the lights the gas pumps, right musics
deal homeless in the cars with a truck
  fun sounds on
its 1:43 a.m. and I'm still standing in front of the matter
what you get at me now
your pain in the grass
I'm sitting at your picnic table in your yard
at the stars come out
we'll have a beer and the end of it
what's going to bed now
you and I
the morning jinx me
good time on that long
long night with you
I don't cry dude
dude I'm a dude
I wouldn't say anything in front of you
Evernote
music notices me hiding
let me stand, boy
I'm to end
catching
me, you never will

88% humidity

surprise body! surprise
lately:
petrichor
wet everything
grease girl
favorite song
broodless
dancing till soaking
dancing with dumb rattail joey, sorry
hot joey sighting
dancing to hot sweat joey drumming
of course that hot joey was the drummer, smh
awkward date sighting, no thanks
hundreds of gallons of alcohol
pc upset
aggrofags
sorry, not
come to new orleans with us
puppybody
puppypuke, sorry
ida pizza, smh
all of the $$
happy birthday, I love you
no don't talk to me
other guy, wtf is your name again?
let's make out
no, nevermind
disdain girl
glad for rain
let's party till we die
summer mood
get that moon
get it

also,

I was given a few books! To my joy and surprise, on the inside cover of Anne Frank's The Diary of a Young Girl is written my name, Molly Stoddard, in feminine thirteen-year-old script complete with hearts, stars, and exclamation point. And even more worthwhile is the original copy of William Goldman's The Princess Bride, a truly exceptional book. I started it again last night and haven't stopped from smiling. The opening sentence: "This is my favorite book in all the world, though I have never read it." Ah ha, intriguing, no? What else is here: Cat's Cradle. I read Jailbird and liked it but is it too late for Kurt and me? The cover art is brilliant, vermilion background with a small inset of pink hands holding the all-important cat's cradle strings, the going-off of an atomic bomb, and a confused psychedelic sun. "Call me Jonah. My parents did, or nearly did. They called me John." Mm hmm,  pretty Clever. Ah, well it's about twentyseven pages long so I could just suck that down. IF I WASN'T so busy sucking everything else down. You know! What else, oh if it isn't Percy Thrower's How to Grow VEGETABLES and FRUIT by god!! Depicted is Percy Thrower himself, wrinkled oldman brow and long elegant pipe... it appears to be unlit. He's fondling a large & impressive yellow onion, and showing off with this sort of licentious look on his face a wheelbarrow just full of delicious treasures from the earth. Mm hmm we have potatos, radishes, beets, tomatos of all flavors and persuasions... oh, and they're so damp and dewy with earth and newness! how hungry you've made me. This book is filled with images of hands using tools and breaking off beetgreens. In fact, there is a bookmarked page I've just opened to... the Beetroot. Just delights.

I have to go now, to rinse my hair... let the solemn ballad of poor Lonesome Susie leave you charmed.