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Friday, June 12, 2009

My LIFE is untitled

Which recycling bin is for magazines? The blue one, right? Good because I just dumped out all these magazines I was keeping in a basket by my bed, because I like to draw pictures out of magazines, and I was thinking I'd eventually have one month dedicated only to drawing once I lived in a place with double French doors that opened up to an outdoor area with giant circular table I'd have to crawl on to create. And it would never be so windy that the pages would start blowing and I'd lose my place and have chalk on my hands that would get all over all the other pages, and if it was windy it would just be a fluke, and I would have a basket full of rocks next to my giant circular table to hold down the pages just in case. And hand sanitizer. And very close to the door I would also have a basket of cardigans to choose from in case of any drastic temperature change, so I wouldn't have to interrupt the flow of the Great Creator creating through me. I'd stored these magazines thinking I'd bring them when I moved to that place, because by that time they would have stopped selling magazines in Malibu. It would have just become a place for lovers and giant circular tables.

Okay, there was a point when my grades fell in high school and my counselor recommended I take a course called Notetaking and Study Skills with Miss, Miss Kaluskity? Some name that reminded me of ice skating. She had pastry-like hair, like a giant Danish, and she loved three-hole punching and dividers, and she also taught us shorthand. Nobody used shorthand back then but it was fun doing assignments in a secret snaky language. I'm pretty sure I fantasized about writing a love letter and then when I realized it was over the top I could shame the lover by saying, "You don't know SHORTHAND?" Then tell them it wasn't a love letter, it was just a grocery list...even though at the time your mother was the one who did the grocery shopping. You could say she let you compose a supplementary list, even though at the time you would not have know the word supplementary. Or maybe you would have know the word, but in the context that once combined, both of your and your mother's grocery lists would make an 180 degree angle.

So please excuse the following list of undercooked uhhs. I'm going to keep Found Notes here because I have no other place to store them--especially these, the ones I just excavated from my car after having written on napkins/receipts that got lodged deep in car cushion creases, in the glove box, under the seat.


Black crow using its beak to tear up tape on construction site

I’m just an organism fat lips & a heart

Awareness like singing “gone away from me” all down the steps

“If that were made of chocolate I’d dig my face right in”


Cashier walking out eyes skim tops of cars the full parking lot pumps his ego like this is a big big party and he’s the bouncer, you're lucky just to be in this LOT- but he’s wearing tropical shirt like so maybe we’re waves

Herman Hesse/Family services

If no one had ever seen packaged food It’s 2009 and the only way we know to open wine is to smash it on the floor (not ok to eat glass)

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