words, words, words










 
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If you'd like to volunteer for the Russ Carnahan campaign for U.S. Congress Please give our offices a call at 534-2004 or email me at stephen@russcarnahan.org

biologic show
secret kings
waremouse
cucalambe
chrisafer
dogpoet
brent
salon
jeff
cho
rob



places to visit:
Center for Theology and Social Analysis
Lynda Barry
astralwerks
Sherman's Lagoon




Another place I write:
Queerday




relevant pasts:
fear of sunrise
manboylove
peaceful
soup
objection
who are you?
birthday
one year










 
If I begin to detail myself here, will you understand?



P. I am me
Q. I don't always know exactly who that is
R. I am Quaker
S. I like words and playing with them
T. I like genmaicha tea
U. I like the word napkin more than most others
V. I spend time walking my neighborhood
W. I cook rice often
X. I sleep well most every night
Y. I eat large amounts of fruit and vegetables
Z. I munch, sleep, write, create, cook, bike, watch, walk, listen, hope, learn, drink, live, breathe, touch, know, question, taste, copy, read, stare, carry, talk, dance, finger, try.





raisin@gmail.com



albums:

Magnetic Fields: 69 Love Songs
Erasure: I Say, I Say, I Say
Depeche Mode: Black Celebration
The Beach Boys: Pet Sounds
Marvin Gaye: What's Going On?
David Bowie: Hunky Dory
George Michael: Listen without Prejudice
George Gershwin: Porgy and Bess
Yo La Tengo: And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out


songs:

Wild is the Wind: Nina Simone
Come Undone: Duran Duran
Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini: Rachmaninov
My Funny Valentine: Chet Baker
Feeling Yourself Disintegrate: The Flaming Lips
This Must Be the Place: The Talking Heads
Hyperballad: Bjork







many napkins
 
Tuesday, October 21, 2003  
I have about twenty pages I wrote during my sophomore year of college, the first time i began to write about my life and my thoughts. I was falling then, unable to hold onto my fundamentalist faith in Christianity, and unsure where to go as i lost my strength and then my will to hold on. i fell from my parents, too, as I began to distrust what they had told me and were still telling me. usually, people turn from their parents and their religion to new things, friends, new ways to have fun, anything to fill that void. I had never been lonelier than I was that year, being made fun of for being too weird by most of the cadets around me, being just too different from them to relate and unable to leave the campus to make any other friends. Even the dream of the Air Force Academy fell apart as i began to see through the system, the cruelty it promoted, and the cadets it produced, hoping I wouldnt' become one of them, too. Of course, I also had the highest course load I would carry during college, 21 hours a semester for two semesters in a row, full of engineering courses that barely made sense to me, a reader and a thinker. Plus, I had the realizations that i was attracted to men around me and my repulsion from myself for those desires. I don't know how i made it.
Those twenty pages don't say much of this; i was too scared to let it out. My troubles had to force their way out, physically at first. I started going grey that year, at nineteen, and i broke out in hives as spring came around, every time i got slightly heated, just from walking around, the stress coming out as itchy red bumps all over me. I was burning, all the dead wood inside me lit by the sparks of stress. my skin, my brain, my soul, on fire. i remember walking upstairs sometime near april, beginning to panic and tighten up, knowing that i would soon heat up and itch. I don't know how or why, but that day i started breathing, and let a tiny bit go. I was still burning, like Voltaire digging through his soul unsure if he would ever be able to stop the descent. I guess it had to burn, I had so much trash in me after nineteen years of accepting everything i was told.
It's been a long time since then, and every year I have learned better how to breathe. but man, i'm glad i'm not nineteen anymore.

1:10 AM

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