"Yes, it was good being a chick to three men, and each of them on his own trip, each wanting a different thing, so that the world filled out, and interplay, like a triple-exposed photo, made indefinite space. I have since found that it is usually a good thing to be the woman of many men at once, or to be one of many women on one man's scene, or to be one of many women in a household with many men, and the scene between all of you shifting and ambiguous. What is not good, what is claustrophobic and deadening, is the regular one-to-one relationship, OK for a weekend, or a month in the mountains, but not OK for a long-time thing, not OK once you have both told yourselves that this is to be the form of your lives. Then begins endless claims, and jugglings to avoid boredom, and the slow inexorable closing of God's infinite horizon, like the red-hot tightening walls in Poe's "The Pit and the Pendulum", walls that move in inexorably and choke the life out of your world.
In the Middle ages there was the chasity belt--but that at least could be dealt with, with a hacksaw if nothing else. In our parents' day there was marriage, there sometimes still is, and that is ugly enough, but it is a legal form, and can be dealt with by more of the same, more papers. It is unpleasant, but it is only one form of the monster. The real horror, the nightmare in which most of us are spending our adult lives, is the deep-rooted insidious belief in the one-to-one world. The world of "this is my old man." Live with five, and you have the same claim, but it is spread out, ambigious, undefined. What is unfilled by one will be filled by another easily, no one hung up guilty and inadequate, no one pushed to the wall by demands that he/she can't meet."

-- Memoirs of a Beatnik by Diane Di Prima

This album -

Can't stop listening. Can't



The Pixies - Doolittle

Download @ http://www.megaupload.com/?d=9A65PEIK

Memorial Day

Memorial day means bar-b-cuties and family time. Or at least for me.
The most exciting part of any holiday is seeing my nephew. Today he had a new book and I thought it just wonderful.





Baby Food by Saxton Freymann & Joost Elffers uses various fruits and vegetables as a medium to sculpt cute lil' animals.

Current musical obsession

Hailing from Brooklyn, NY - Japanther



The couple on the left makes me cringe.


& Buffalo, NY - Lemuria

"To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is the bad dream"

My goal is to read 12 books this summer.
I conquered book number one which was The Bell Jar written by Sylvia Plath



I really enjoyed this book, but was disturbed by how parallel my thought process ran to that of Esther Greenwood's (the main character) prior to her suicide attempts. The Bell Jar is known to be an autobiographical account of Plath's life without the actual said title. At the age of thirty Plath took her own life. It is astounding how much Plath accomplished while only living until thirty.

"If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell. I'll be flying back and forth between one mutually exclusive thing and another for the rest of my days." -Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar, Chapter 8

I am now beginning to read Color written by Victoria Finlay

MAD GIRL'S LOVE SONG
A VILLANELLE

By Sylvia Plath
Smith College, '54

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

Parallels

To: Human Resources, Armdale Tea Room
Re: Dishwasher (Casual)

I am writing to apply for the position of "Dishwasher (Casual)" because, let's face it, dishwashing isn't a career. I'm not going to sit up all night and worry about the stats on my quarterly dishwashing report. I want to show up for my shift, wash gross half-eaten food off plates for a few hours, and then go home. It sounds like the sort of job that I don't even need to think about while I'm doing it. I can think about weird sex things or about what if zombies were racist, would they not eat you if they hated the colour of your skin? Would you be safe? Or would they eat you out of spite? I need to make a few extra dollars to pay rent, to buy groceries. I don't want to have to care what your company stands for, or try and make myself sound like some kind of inhuman perfect employee.

It's like meeting girls. A relationship is just another kind of job, isn't it. In the beginning you pretend to be that perfect employee. You lie in the interview and then you do your best for a while. You never step out of line. You always wait until you go home to use the bathroom if it's number two. You shave and brush your teeth every day. When you're kissing you never pull out the pen and write "whore" on her body unexpectedly. You behave. But how long can that go on before you start going crazy? You have to be yourself. That's why it's called being yourself.

And soon you start slipping up. You think, "Oh, I'll just use the bathroom a little bit. Just a bit of a number two, to hold me over until I get home." You start chewing gum just before you see her, because you forgot to brush today. You find yourself writing, "who" on her confused face, and you scramble for a weak explanation. "Oh, I just didn't want to forget to look something up, later. Who, uh... Who played the girl in The Apartment? Was it Shirley MacLaine?"

In the end it never works out. You are who you are, no matter what you pretend at the beginning. So I'm not pretending. I drink to ignore my problems. I spend more time with my computer than with my friends. I don't have a very good relationship with women. I am angry and lonely, but I can wash dishes just fine. I'm being honest. Please don't be an asshole about this.

Yours,

Joey Comeau.



From http://www.asofterworld.com/oq-display.php?id=65