Sage F ight Club Escape Artist

in the two places at once. tyler isn't here. tyler went away. tyler's gone. but in disassociated-manda-land, ALL the magic is in the breakdown, baby.

not a genius, just a genie-- poof i'm gone.


Sage Francis. A healthy distrust of sea lions...

i don't have a very large music repertoire. when i like something, i listen to it for months sometimes... so the same few songs can keep me interested for years.

today is sage francis on repeat.

mental-music-video, over and over... that haunting melody of sea-lion, that so captures that trudging numbness i hear all the time, the what? huh? why-should-singer-care part that i just want to lie down and drown in, that takes so much effort to pull away from.

building the same sand-castle over and over. watching it melt into the sea over and over. firing into the sand, nothing tangible to shoot down...

so many times i have heard it... and the girl's voice at the beginning still startles me sometimes, it sounds to me so like my own, i'm always disconcerted. how did i get into the song? wait. where am i? who is where and which is real...

my wooden arms are too tired to pull off the armor. too tired to remember why i should care. but Being only among songs is not where i want to BE, only where i am.


Another shower

Maybe the emotion is leaking from my head and affecting the physical world. I was just in the shower, thinking, and the shower-head kind of exploded and gushed sideways and loud. The startle of it almost made me cry. But I didn't. But almost. And then when i picked up the shampoo, tried to pour it into my hand, i almost missed because my hand was shaking so. But i didn't miss. But almost. Sometimes i think i am all calmed down, and then i will notice how i can barely hold a towel, how i don't feel the weak and shaky until i see the towel shake.

i am racing and racing, my thoughts are pacing. i am egg. i am fragile. i am so full of thoughts and talking. Poor little caged thoughts.

i spoke to someone yesterday. they said-- i am a quiet person.
and i said-- why?

because i really wanted to know. because i wanted there to be a REASON.
but all they said back was-- because i just am.

which was not a very exciting or dramatic response. and i tried to pretend a bit, that there might be more to it, because of course, if you are quiet, and then you give a long-winded explanation as to why that is so, well, that is not very quiet. but i do not think they said "because i just am" to be ironic or funny, i think that was just the end of the story. which was disappointing.

all the real-life people i know are still imaginary in every other sense.

who are you?



A semblance of a dremblence of a trembling, dreaming, dead. Assemblence of remembrance, of a deadened teeming head. Dead-end dreaming, alone not team-ing. Seeming, seaming, almost meaning, almost meaning, at the cusp of MEANING, but no such gleaning ever quite, ever quite...

I have a lot of conversations in the shower. Oh wait, sense and order. Um, yes, lets post the email first then get to the postscript...

i think of W. writing down that he wanted a popcorn snack. if i hadn't had reading so early, i think my life would have been so much different. i wouldn't have had a way to understand and connect and communicate with the humans. when the kids have tantrums, i wish they could write it down, tell me they want a popcorn snack... when i am angry, writing is so much closer to reach than spoken words.

i've been thinking how all my interactions read like a scrip. (you know how i imagine conversations with people and how they might go.) i wouldn't actually explain it to the people at the school, since that would be too much talking about myself, but i pretend that maybe we'd become friends in the future, or a conversation would come up where i could ask and explain and compare/contrast my way with theirs, because maybe theirs is the same?

my notice of things is heightened at the school. how i do all those little things that people do without noticing, like breathing, blinking. when i say hello to someone-- it is: person approaching, should acknowledge, crap, relax, make eye contact, smile, say hello, they asked me something... laugh, cock head to the side, grin, say yeah, roll eyes, look amused...

i think about all my affectation. the grin and roll eyes. i play it all out like i think i'm supposed to, and i wonder a lot if other people hear all that stuff in their head or if it really just comes naturally, unthinkingly. i match my behavior, responses, to scripts i know-- books i've read, tv i've seen.

So i wrote that to someone this morning. Just took a shower. I have lots of conversations in the shower. In-my-head-conversations, not actual conversations of course, I am not that kind of movie. One reason I don't write more often, is that, sadly, I don't have a lot of new thoughts. I like to think about the same things over and over. I am stuck on this script thought. Hopefully writing it down (again) will "get it out of my system" a little.

I have heard that it's "a girl thing" to act out conversations internally. Any girls out there care to comment? I spend an awful lot of time on just one sentence. Playing it over and over. How much smile? How much laugh? This way? This way? And when i get it "RIGHT" I like to keep playing it over, because it makes me feel calm to know i have it perfect, and i feel so witty and clever when i get a conversation, or part of a conversation just right, i like to just keep having it over and over and clapping with delight at myself.

Sigh. Self-depreciating grin. Except, i don't really FEEL self-depreciating. I FEEL yay-yay-lets-do-it-again!!! But I also feel somewhat obligated to make some, "I am such a dork" type comment, because that's what humans do.... YAY YAY AGAIN! ;p