I've been very amorous as of late. Such a whirlwind!
I've never fallen softly, I wonder what I will think when lucidity returns.
I once wrote this (its not very good but I find it amusing and fitting):
Life's sweet, supple,
He kisses my lips with a bite; not a man for you,
An escape, a salve for throbbing aches,
As he rolls his hand
Around the meat on the undersides
Of long neglected paths. He is not a gardener,
He wears nothing but his skin, nothing but
A thick musk to mingle among the bed of roses,
A tongue to sway purple petals,
To rinse the dew that gathers
In throwing arches. Enough of heaven,
I want earth. They laugh as if
I am a silly bird. How can this not be real?
How can the ascending waves,
Caused by the intimate violence of his cupped palm
Roving in my chalice
Be not real? Our crashing bodies,
Desires' soft injuries; what? What could be
More real than this?
©hRj2006
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I don't want it to end. But it will.
I know how these things go because I've been there before.
Last night I had a fright. A block from my apartment, I suddenly lost my sense of balance while on the way home. I thought I was going to collapse in the middle of the street and be mugged/raped/taken to the emergency room (because then I'll have to pay huge bill because I have no medical insurance). This has NEVER happened to me before.
A friend suggested that it might be due to a panic attack (which earlier in the night I had). I think I'm stressed out or just plain going crazy. This happens to me every once in a while... my emotions get out of hand and I think I'm going crazy. Do people normally suspect themselves of clinical insanity? I know people generally question how "normal" they are.
Yesterday I also met up with a close friend whom I haven't seen in forever. We were best buds in highschool. Seeing her and catching up totally destroyed my ability to appreciate other people later during the night. It's just that we have such an energy together; she's always up to some kooky shit... everything is a story (but ofcourse not without risk). I would love to divulge details but I shouldn't and can't. Some later time I will find a way.
A friend suggested that it might be due to a panic attack (which earlier in the night I had). I think I'm stressed out or just plain going crazy. This happens to me every once in a while... my emotions get out of hand and I think I'm going crazy. Do people normally suspect themselves of clinical insanity? I know people generally question how "normal" they are.
Yesterday I also met up with a close friend whom I haven't seen in forever. We were best buds in highschool. Seeing her and catching up totally destroyed my ability to appreciate other people later during the night. It's just that we have such an energy together; she's always up to some kooky shit... everything is a story (but ofcourse not without risk). I would love to divulge details but I shouldn't and can't. Some later time I will find a way.
Happy Lunar New Year!
Eat something round. Eat some noodles for long life. Wear gold bitches.
I'm addicted to the gym and now spending exorbitant amounts of time on my fake facebook husband. I wish more people are as amused by it as I am. Come on, Tang Dynasty emperor? Hilarity! I guess its less funny for those people who honestly thought that first I got engaged to Mr. T and now I'm married.... well most people don't know Chinese history that well. Am I crazy to be playing this kind of joke? Here's the plotline: I want him to start hitting on my girl friends and trying to persuade them to be his newest concubines. He already put a servant to death for disrespecting my bridesmaid at the wedding.
Yes I've been job searching, doing better than before (before I was just saying I've been job searching, doing better than before). This is real. I've honestly been sending out coverletters and resumes.
This past weekend was AWP (which my current roommate and his friends who flew in from Alabama was involved in). I didn't register early enough and the tickets were sold out. I went to see Li-Young Lee and an emerging poet named Jennifer Kwon Dobbs read at the Asian American Writers Workshop and then went to some other Asian American poets' reading at NYU.
I loved Li-Young Lee. He was simply wonderful! I was never really interested in poets themselves as much as their poetry. I read his works during college and spent a month obssessively in love with his book, The City in Which I Love You. As much as I loved his poems, it never once occurred to me that I should know more than his poetry. Weird huh? So when I talked to him I felt great embarrassment when he said that he lived in Chicago. after learning that I just moved from there. That was such a dipshit moment. Well now that I've met him, I love him more: he means every word he writes and the quirk is fitting. Seriously even my idol Alice Notley... I have her essays, her poetry books, and I don't know shit about her except that she was married to Ted Berrigan and has a son (whose poetry took me a bit to get but then I learned to enjoy it).
I tried to be friends with Jennifer. I think I scared her.
When I went to the second reading at NYU, I don't know... I liked a couple of lines, two poems, and the rest of the time I felt bored. Bob Hicok (who I have yet to explore, who my friend is really into) pointed out something that might help explain my boredom. In an interview (http://www.caffeinedestiny.com/hicok.html) he said, "What is most commonly said about Slam poetry - that it's not as good on the page as it is live - is true for most though not all of the work. What people don't notice, or admit, is that the opposite is true. Much of the poetry that gets published is no good on the stage. Or, has little force on the stage." That probably explained it. Maybe if I saw those poems on the page I'd feel more engaged.
I felt really scared at this reading. Like. Intense pressure to go up or say hi and compliment everyone. I mean you can't just go up and say hi, you have say hi and compliment or you can't buy just one person's chapbook or they can't see that you didn't buy theirs. It's fucking complicated. Like... if I get good at writing poetry, this is the group I'll be in. Don't get me wrong, I'm extremely proud of being myself and care deeply about AA political issues.... solidarity is semi-important. But I couldn't do it. I don't like everyone's poetry. And then because I'm not MFA type, how fucking valid is my criticism or preferences (they're valid to ME (and we all know my opinion is final opinion) but I don't live inside myself or try not to)?
Anyways I was really glad though to meet Marlon E because I knew him from 11th grade from watching Two Tongues perform, and then being at the Typical Cats concert, and then through my Chicago slam poetry friends. He had a good vibe about him. I hope if I go to their monthly saloon that I don't offend anyone. My facial expression betrays me in split second lapses of control.
Oooh I love my tumblr blog but its a secret and all written in Chinese. TEEHEE. I'm definitely improving everyday.
Eat something round. Eat some noodles for long life. Wear gold bitches.
I'm addicted to the gym and now spending exorbitant amounts of time on my fake facebook husband. I wish more people are as amused by it as I am. Come on, Tang Dynasty emperor? Hilarity! I guess its less funny for those people who honestly thought that first I got engaged to Mr. T and now I'm married.... well most people don't know Chinese history that well. Am I crazy to be playing this kind of joke? Here's the plotline: I want him to start hitting on my girl friends and trying to persuade them to be his newest concubines. He already put a servant to death for disrespecting my bridesmaid at the wedding.
Yes I've been job searching, doing better than before (before I was just saying I've been job searching, doing better than before). This is real. I've honestly been sending out coverletters and resumes.
This past weekend was AWP (which my current roommate and his friends who flew in from Alabama was involved in). I didn't register early enough and the tickets were sold out. I went to see Li-Young Lee and an emerging poet named Jennifer Kwon Dobbs read at the Asian American Writers Workshop and then went to some other Asian American poets' reading at NYU.
I loved Li-Young Lee. He was simply wonderful! I was never really interested in poets themselves as much as their poetry. I read his works during college and spent a month obssessively in love with his book, The City in Which I Love You. As much as I loved his poems, it never once occurred to me that I should know more than his poetry. Weird huh? So when I talked to him I felt great embarrassment when he said that he lived in Chicago. after learning that I just moved from there. That was such a dipshit moment. Well now that I've met him, I love him more: he means every word he writes and the quirk is fitting. Seriously even my idol Alice Notley... I have her essays, her poetry books, and I don't know shit about her except that she was married to Ted Berrigan and has a son (whose poetry took me a bit to get but then I learned to enjoy it).
I tried to be friends with Jennifer. I think I scared her.
When I went to the second reading at NYU, I don't know... I liked a couple of lines, two poems, and the rest of the time I felt bored. Bob Hicok (who I have yet to explore, who my friend is really into) pointed out something that might help explain my boredom. In an interview (http://www.caffeinedestiny.com/hicok.html) he said, "What is most commonly said about Slam poetry - that it's not as good on the page as it is live - is true for most though not all of the work. What people don't notice, or admit, is that the opposite is true. Much of the poetry that gets published is no good on the stage. Or, has little force on the stage." That probably explained it. Maybe if I saw those poems on the page I'd feel more engaged.
I felt really scared at this reading. Like. Intense pressure to go up or say hi and compliment everyone. I mean you can't just go up and say hi, you have say hi and compliment or you can't buy just one person's chapbook or they can't see that you didn't buy theirs. It's fucking complicated. Like... if I get good at writing poetry, this is the group I'll be in. Don't get me wrong, I'm extremely proud of being myself and care deeply about AA political issues.... solidarity is semi-important. But I couldn't do it. I don't like everyone's poetry. And then because I'm not MFA type, how fucking valid is my criticism or preferences (they're valid to ME (and we all know my opinion is final opinion) but I don't live inside myself or try not to)?
Anyways I was really glad though to meet Marlon E because I knew him from 11th grade from watching Two Tongues perform, and then being at the Typical Cats concert, and then through my Chicago slam poetry friends. He had a good vibe about him. I hope if I go to their monthly saloon that I don't offend anyone. My facial expression betrays me in split second lapses of control.
Oooh I love my tumblr blog but its a secret and all written in Chinese. TEEHEE. I'm definitely improving everyday.
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