words, words, words
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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
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Sunday, October 12, 2003
I'm tired today, and i can't blame it on lack of sleep, not after the 10 hours i had last night and good sleep the night before as well. i'm tired from taking care of my mother this past week in tulsa, and worrying about her since i left on thursday. i'm tired of the pain in our relationship, the things we can and can't talk about, the hurt i'm still feeling from the words she said to me in the past few years, how she thinks i will kill myself like my uncle did because he tried to live a gay life, how she told me i was lying about my conviction for conscientious objection. i'm trying, so hard, to let it go, to forgive her, but i am not strong enough yet, not when i can't write about it without crying. i'm hoping that the good seeds i planted this week, taking care of her when her husband neglected to stop by during her surgery, will help turn her good will toward me, but i know i have to do such things without such hope for compensation, do them just for her, because she is my mother and because i love her. all this has exhausted me. it seems the love i'm trying to give her is caught in all of my pain and can't quite get through yet. but i fear, too, that her coldness will stop any love i give to her, and she won't see. This kind of work takes time though; seeds don't grow when planted. They have to be watered and cared for; and even then, i can't cause them to grow.
12:30 PM
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