no, no, no, no, no Sunday night

I don't want to have kids. I stare at pictures of children that have been brought into this world. Bloated, abused, angry, mourning their existence. I see cognitively burgeouning kids beeing fed whatever those in power (adults, the rich, the mean, the murderously well-meaning); 99% of these kids will fester in these narrow-minded spewings of advice. Another mass of that number will take life, either from another...others, or, from themselves- or both. I can't be a parent. I can't do that to another human'being. It is selfish and cruel. How, can one wouned rat of a human'being trying to simply keep from bleeding out, how can such a one ever raise another human being without cutting every section of that little one's soul into minced ash?


I don't want that responsibility.


I can't even think about it.


I will fuck it all up. Fucked up souls because of me.

I can't do it.


I don't even know what I fucking believe! How am I supposed to answer any child?! Any fucking person!? Why do I even fucking open my mouth!? But I do! It's a fucking disease! Like I fucking know shit! I know nothing! Nothing! I know nothing.


[don't worry I will recover enough to maintain life].


I just want Jesus to come RIGHT NOW and set us free from this hell.


There is no such fucking thing as enlightenment. If you get to anything near it- you're fucking missing the boat. We are all souls trapped in racks of skin and riggles of gray matter. Accept that while you sit in your field of grass and singing birds with your purified water and organic clothes- families are being chopped with machetes, children are being raped,people are being raped, people are being held captive and starved to death in tidy suburban basements, kids are being shot for the sake of some group's "cause."... I can't purposefully bring another life into this place- I can't parent any child into this place. I am already a conduit to the system. To my misery and demise. God help us. Please help us. Please help us. Please help us. Please help us. Please help us. Please help us.

This isn't where we are supposed to be. We are supposed to be free. What does that even mean, God?

...what does anything fucking mean? i just want to take off all of my clothes, walk into the river and cry until it floods the earth.


oh, God. Please help. Please help. Please help.

Cat Steven's "Peace Train" (my life) Tuesday

Now I've been happy lately
Thinking about the good things to come
And I believe it could be
Something good has begun
I've been smiling lately
Dreaming about the world as one
And I believe it could be
Something good's bound to come

For out on the edge of darkness
There runs the peace train
Peace train take this country
Come take me home again

Peace train sounding louder
Ride on the peace train
Hoo-ah-eeh-ah-hoo-ah
Come on the peace train
Peace train's a holy roller
Everyone jump upon the peace train
Hoo-ah-eeh-ah-hoo-ah
This is the peace train

Get your bags together
Come bring your good friends too
Because it's getting nearer
Soon it will be with you
Come and join the living
It's not so far from you
And it's getting nearer
Soon it will all be true

Peace train sounding louder
Ride on the peace train
Hoo-ah-eeh-ah-hoo-ah
Come on the peace train

I've been crying lately
Thinking about the world as it is
Why must we go on hating?
Why can't we live in bliss?

For out on the edge of darkness
There rides the peace train
Peace train take this country
Come take me home again

Peace train sounding louder
Ride on the peace train
Hoo-ah-eeh-ah-hoo-ah
Come on the peace train

Come on, come on, come on the peace train...

I heart Regina Spektor's music Tuesday

I am moving to here.


Today I am going through my entire house and clumping together all unnecessary things. This menagerie will be gleaned out among friends first and then packed off to Goodwill.


Survival tactic: iTUnes DJ. (Yessss).

we're just two lost souls swimming in a pink floyd song Saturday

Second night in a row of watching The Lost Boys before I bring my day to a close; delicious 80's movie. De-lish-usss. Mmmmmmmm :) I need to nab The Goonies next. Oh. Yes.


I am thinking of giving away a lot of my clothes. I am also thinking of getting some hot old-school ray-bans, but that's another story.


It's just that itch to give away everything. I have gotten rid of my things roughly at the turn of each year in my inwardly-conscious life. I just want it all gone. I think this is 60% healthy for me. That other 40%...I need to hang on to...something. I don't have to be a nomad anymore. I don't have to live in a constant state of 'prepare for the worst'. I should want to fight to live. I should want to fight to have happiness, security, love. I should be able to fully, completely, and absolutely vulnerably...love. I know this. I acknowledge. That's the first step to recovery, I guess. I think. I hope.


I just want to breathe.

I can't breathe.

Sometimes I catch a gasp. An hour of dancing alone in the dark. An automatic, unhindered hug towards another. An hour of loud, broken, wailing sobs embraced like food. I just wan tot be free, Jesus. I want to be free. Help me to breathe.

Help me to breathe.

Thanks for the bits. My smiles are all for you. My tears are all for you, too.

Jesus. goodnite...

Thank you cosmos for 'Julie & Julia' and Judy Saturday

Interpersonal update from 'Letter to V'-

"Reading through [this] now I am not in the fear that I was. It is always possible to be 'marked' by this type of encounter, for later, which will certainly be in the back of my mind for a while. However, my soul and spirit and mind are free; I have to keep repeating this to myself (have had to for years). Jesus said to love God and love people. It is an all inclusive package. Why should anyone have love for me if I do not have love for even just one person? Even if that person wants to peel the skin from my body while I watch [which I have not quite wrapped my mind/heart around- working on it]. Even if that person is Adolf Hitler [Dito- it's just so fucking insane! But I believe in it! Ga!!!]. Even if that person is annoying. Even if that person is too loud, too quiet, too whatever. Even if that person is a prowling slave-trader wearing a suit and tie on a walk through Downtown. I think that is all that I can express as to where I currently am. Will I piss myself and cry if this man or anyone of his ilk do ever take me? You fucking bet your ass. [This does not make me a coward. Anyone who thinks so is in jack-ass mode.My body is subject to this world and will do what it will under abuse. I- me, I am free.] Will I have moments of billowing fury when I think of the people that become prey to such as him? For the rest of my life. The Good: I am now equipped with an experience out of which to teach others. Thank God. Help us God. Help us Jesus. Ya... It'll be an ongoing conversation." -Me

Just watched "Julie and Julia." What an effervescent release! A melt in your mouth movie experience to savour on a cloudy day. (sigh of utter contentitude and longing for a French dinner- right now). :)

It was a much needed lift in my sagging life.

Travel and lack of sleep have caught up with me. I have that thing where the passageway which travels from the nostrils through the inards of the neck and down into the cavity of the chest feels like scritchy, scratchy, dull-burning, poky nettle smuck. It is also the type of walking in a state of prolonged and dogged pre-fever. All the while helping my neighbor move from two-stories to 700sq. feet across town (which! I love! And it has been tough only for the fact that I am a cooked slug).

My neighbor. (sigh of bittersweetitude). She won't be my neighbor anymore. She'll be across town in a condo. She'll have new neighbors. I am going to miss having a sweet little biddy on each side of my house. Now I will have only one little biddy.

I am going to wake up tomorrow, sit up in bed and realize that my flowers need watering because my neighbor got up at 5am and watered her flowers across town instead of next door and, in-so doing from the goodness of her candy heart, watered all of mine, too. When she gets sick, I won't know. I won't know to buy her a copy of Good Housekeeping and put it in a party-bag full of Saltine's and Chicken Noodle Soup. Because, she won't live next door anymore. I won't find flyers wedged in my front door for classical concerts for us to enjoy together. I won't wave to her in her window as I drive away to tackle my grocery list. I won't be the one buying her groceries when there is two feet of snow in her driveway. She was the best neighbor I ever had. My very first, best, neighbor. and I am so sad that she won't be there anymore. I am so sad; she's gone, now. She was my friend. My very loving and thoughtful friend. Who is going to be loving and thoughtful to her now?

I know she will have nice, good people to be neighbors with. The people in the condo next to hers have a planter on their front step in the shape of a cheerful piggy, for crying out loud. (sigh). She was just the absolute best and I am going to miss having her around here.

I hope you all have neighbors half as special- for then your life would truly be blessed.

breezy Friday

Today I woke up and visited with my husband. That always makes my life beautiful.

I decided to get out of the house and out into this tantalizing day. I have been recently okayed to eat small doses of wheat- Pizza! I stopped by Pizzicato and ordered one slice of Putanesca and one slice of Veggie. Mmmmmmm. The three of us traipsed over to some public grass under a public tree to bask in public sparkling shade; the kind that dances with sunbeams. I snagged a blanket from my trunk and a bottle of water from my bag- voila- picnic in the park. I listened to two little girls racing clumsily around the playground while they played 'who screams the loudest and for how long.' It was thoroughly delicious to every lotion of my soul. I think I would like to picnic again in my very near future.

After I made oracular love to my pizza and water, I mosied on over to smoothie land. 20 ounces of raspberry-mango-pineapple-blueberry goodness. I took my spoils to the bookstore and perused around until fully satisfied with the grazing over new covers with my fingertips. mmmm. I love plopping down into a warm, almost steamy, vehicle after being in an air conditioned space. I relished in the heat of my automobile for a good 10 minutes after leaving the bookstore. I simply sat, eyes closed, head back against the driver's seat, breathing deeply. After my therapy session was up I drove on over to my free-movie (those club cards actually pay off).

Now I am home after popping in to the grocery store for my wheat representative: Toasty O's. :] Add a little rice milk and be thou in a heavenly state. (Totally my dinner tonight).


I love you. Jesus loves you. Let's each have a bowl of cereal.

letter to V Friday

I was going to call you but I am calmer now. I would still like the spiritual support that I have heard you mention that you are comfortable with.

Tonight, while I was in P. Square after we served all of the burritos, I was watching the bags while J and G went to get someone a sandwich.

I was sitting on a bench with K's bag, the friend's bag, the burrito Ikea bag, and J's purse. I was wearing my long dress, which you saw, and my usual old lady straw hat.

After a few moments, a man who looked like your average Pland business guy- black shoes, slacks, black jacket with toggles for buttons, wearing a tie and nice sunglasses, short cropped hair- business guy appearance- he was walking by and looked my way. He asked "Excuse me, are you from Portland?" I got up, now thinking he was a tourist, and said ""Yes."

Man: "Do you know of any camping places nearby"

Me: "What do you mean? What kind of camping?" "In the city, or, in the woods?"

Man: "I'm looking for the kind of camps where homeless youth stay. Are there any places in the city?"

Me: "That's being worked on right now, but currently, it's illegal to camp in the city. There are some places, like [place] by the airport that are permanent as of now."

Man: "[place]? Where's that; how do you get there?"

Me: "It's kind of a tent city by the airport. You can take [road] to [road]."

Man: "I'm kind of down on my luck and I'm working for this celebrity in Las Vegas that wants me to shoot adult portraits to send down to Mexico. You're 18?"

Me: "Over."

Man: "Ok. Good. I'm looking for girls in these camps where the homeless youth are to make some videos- you're not a street kid are you?"

Me: "No."

Man: "Ok. You're not a church girl are you?"

Me: "That doesn't really exist up here."

Man: "Good, because one of the questions I need to ask- Do you, do you fuck out?"

Me: "No, I don't."

Man:"Ok. Do you smoke any bud?"

Me:"No, I don't, but I'm sure you can find someone around who does."

Man: "Ok." we shake hands "What was your name?"

Me :"Zo." I was still in an out of body state before I thought 'don't say anything-or- get his name or card.'

Man: "Zo, ok, have a good night."

He walked of going north away from the square. A few moments later, J and the other two came back. I was still in disbelief and slowly beginning to process my encounter while I told them what happened like a joke.

It did not take very long for me to become angry, fearful, anxious about this man and his plans. I walked to where I saw a uniform. It ended up being a Square patrol (not a cop), so I told him I was solicited and gave him a description.
On the drive to drop off the bags at Ken's, my rage and fury painted every bit of me. I was very happy to give you a small hug when we made it there.

I called the police on my way home and left them a voicemail with a brief detail of the occurrence and a description.


The anxiety kept building along with my anger. What if I can't be safe when we go to the Square anymore? What about all of those girls and women this man and others like him get to before the police catch him? I shook his hand and was patient with him, while he endeavored to enslave me. I was alone. I’m small. I’m not physically strong. It is awful to be stuck in this physical state. I was alone. He could find me. I am mad for having to worry about these things. Jesus loves him. I have God’s love and mercy for him. I showed him love. But, I want him to go to prison. There are men and women like this man who are wrangling women and boys and men into sexual slavery. And, I want to help them be clean in their hearts. And, I am helpless.

I am working through a lot of things in my heart and mind about the experience. This guy is still out there. I am supposed to be Jesus to him. I am furious and anxiety ridden for me and women and men; and sad for this man.

I am in a state of philosophical, theological, physiological, spiritual, everything-ogical chaos. But not chaos, at the same time; all twisting and clawing at my being.

I am watching tv episodes online until I pass out. I am also self-medicating with sugary gum. It’s a great novacaine.
God is teaching me something, whatever the fuck it is.

So, lift me up to God, please. I need assistance.
Necesito ayudas, Jesus.