Materials
• 1 (2) 25 g balls Rowan Kidsilk Haze, shade 590 Pearl
• 1 pair size 10 (6 mm) knitting needles
• 1 size 9 (5.5 mm) circular needle (sharp-pointed for lacework), 24 ins (60 cm) long
• Stitch markers
• Row counter

Measurements
Wrap: Approximately 30 x 60 ins (76 x 142 cm) blocked

Gauge
12 sts and 16 rows = 3 x 3-1/2 ins (7.5 x 8.75 cm) over unblocked knot-stitch pattern using a size 9 circular needle or the size required to obtain the correct gauge.

Abbreviations
LHN: left-hand needle
RHN: right-hand needle
PM: place marker
SM: slip marker
Sl1P: slip 1 purlwise
skpo: slip one stitch, knit one stitch, pass slipped stitch over
C4B: Place RHN in front of first 2 sts on LHN, insert RHN into front of next 2 sts on LHN from right to left. Slide all 4 sts off LHN, keeping original 2 sts on RHN and slipping first 2 sts off LHN. Place the loose 2 sts back on LHN, then replace the pair of sts from RHN, thereby crossing them over the sts already on LHN. Knit these 4 sts.

Notes
- The number of stitches changes over the rows.
- Slip the markers when working across the rows.

Knot-stitch sample swatch
Cast on a multiple of 3 sts (12 sts are used for this sample swatch).
Row 1 (RS): Knit.
Row 2: K2, *yo, K3, then use the tip of LHN to lift the first knit stitch of the 3 sts just worked over the last two knit sts; rep from * to last st, K1.
Row 3: Knit.
Row 4: K1, *K3, then use the tip of LHN to lift the first knit stitch of the 3 sts just worked over the last two knit sts, yo; rep from * to last 2 sts, K2.
These four rows form the knot-stitch pattern.

Scarf and wrap
Using size 10 needles and the cable method, cast on 13 sts for swirl border, PM, 60 sts for centre panel of wrap, PM, 13 sts for swirl border. 86 sts for wrap.
Change to size 9 circular needle and work back and forth.
Row 1 (RS): Sl1P, K1, yo, K2tog, yo, K5, yo, K4, SM, K60, SM, K4, yo, K5, yo, K2ttog, yo, K2. 90 sts.

Row 2 (WS): Sl1P, K1, purl to marker, SM, K2, *yo, K3, then use the tip of LHN to lift the first knit st of the 3 sts just worked over the last 2 knit sts; rep from * to last st before marker, K1, SM, purl to last 2 sts, K2.

Row 3: Sl1P, [K2tog, yo] twice, K2, sl1, K2tog, psso, K5, SM, knit to marker, SM, K5, sl1, K2tog, psso, K2, [yo, K2tog] twice, K1. 86 sts.

Row 4: Sl1P, K1, purl to marker, SM, K1, *K3, then use the tip of LHN to lift the first knit stitch of the 3 sts just worked over the last 2 knit sts, yo; rep from * to last 2 sts before marker, K2, SM, purl to last 2 sts, K2.

Row 5: Sl1P, [K2tog, yo] twice, K2, skpo, K4, SM, knit to marker, SM, k4, skpo, K2, [yo, K2tog] twice, K1. 84 sts.

Rows 6: Sl1P, K1, purl to marker, SM, K2, *yo, K3, then use the tip of LHN to lift the first knit st of the 3 sts just worked over the last 2 knit sts; rep from * to last st before marker, K1, SM, purl to last 2 sts, K2.

Row 7: Sl1P, [K2tog, yo] twice, K2, skpo, K3, SM, knit to marker, SM, K3, skpo, K2, [yo, K2tog] twice, K1. 82 sts.

Row 8: Sl1P, K1, purl to marker, SM, K1, *K3, then use the tip of LHN to lift the first knit stitch of the 3 sts just worked over the last 2 knit sts, yo; rep from * to last 2 sts before marker, K2, SM, purl to last 2 sts, K2.

Row 9: Sl1P, [K2tog, yo] twice, K2, skpo, K2, SM, knit to marker, SM, K2, skpo, K2, [yo, K2tog] twice, K1. 80 sts.

Row 10: Sl1P, K1, purl to marker, SM, K2, *yo, K3, then use the tip of LHN to lift the first knit st of the 3 sts just worked over the last 2 knit sts; rep from * to last st before marker, K1, SM, purl to last 2 sts, K2.

Row 11: Sl1P, K1, yo, K2tog, yo, K1, yo, K2, skpo, K1, SM, knit to marker, SM, K1, skpo, K2, yo, K1, yo, K2tog, yo, K2. 82 sts.

Row 12: Sl1P, K1, purl to marker, SM, K1, *K3, then use the tip of LHN to lift the first knit stitch of the 3 sts just worked over the last 2 knit sts, yo; rep from * to last 2 sts before marker, K2, SM, purl to last 2 sts, K2.

Row 13: Sl1P, K1, yo, K2tog, [yo, K3] twice, K1, SM, knit to marker, SM, K1, [K3, yo] twice, K2tog, yo, K2. 86 sts.

Row 14: Sl1P, K1, purl to marker, SM, K2, *yo, K3, then use the tip of LHN to lift the first knit st of the 3 sts just worked over the last 2 knit sts; rep from * to last st before marker, K1, SM, purl to last 2 sts, K2.

Row 15: Sl1P, K1, yo, K2tog, yo, K5, yo, K4, SM, K60, SM, K4, yo, K5, yo, K2ttog, yo, K2. 90 sts.

Row 16: Sl1P, K1, purl to marker, SM, K1, *K3, then use the tip of LHN to lift the first knit stitch of the 3 sts just worked over the last 2 knit sts, yo; rep from * to last 2 sts before marker, K2, SM, purl to last 2 sts, K2.

Row 17: Sl1P, [K2tog, yo] twice, K2, sl1, K2tog, psso, K5, SM, knit to marker, SM, K5, sl1, K2tog, psso, K2, [yo, K2tog] twice, K1. 86 sts.

Row 18: Sl1P, K1, purl to marker, SM, K2, *yo, K3, then use the tip of LHN to lift the first knit st of the 3 sts just worked over the last 2 knit sts; rep from * to last st before marker, K1, SM, purl to last 2 sts, K2.

Row 19: Sl1P, [K2tog, yo] twice, K2, skpo, K4, SM, knit to marker, SM, k4, skpo, K2, [yo, K2tog] twice, K1. 84 sts.

Row 20: Sl1P, K1, purl to marker, SM, K1, *K3, then use the tip of LHN to lift the first knit stitch of the 3 sts just worked over the last 2 knit sts, yo; rep from * to last 2 sts before marker, K2, SM, purl to last 2 sts, K2.

Row 21: Sl1P, [K2tog, yo] twice, K2, sl1, K2tog, psso, K5, SM, knit to marker, SM, K5, sl1, K2tog, psso, K2, [yo, K2tog] twice, K1. 86 sts.

Row 22: Sl1P, K1, purl to marker, SM, K2, *yo, K3, then use the tip of LHN to lift the first knit st of the 3 sts just worked over the last 2 knit sts; rep from * to last st before marker, K1, SM, purl to last 2 sts, K2.

Row 23: Sl1P, [K2tog, yo] twice, K2, skpo, K2, SM, knit to marker, SM, K2, skpo, K2, [yo, K2tog] twice, K1. 80 sts.

Row 24: Sl1P, K1, purl to marker, SM, K1, *K3, then use the tip of LHN to lift the first knit stitch of the 3 sts just worked over the last 2 knit sts, yo; rep from * to last 2 sts before marker, K2, SM, purl to last 2 sts, K2.

Row 25: Sl1P, K1, yo, K2tog, yo, K1, yo, K2, skpo, K1, SM, knit to marker, SM, K1, skpo, K2, yo, K1, yo, K2tog, yo, K2. 82 sts.

Row 26: Sl1P, K1, purl to marker, SM, K2, *yo, K3, then use the tip of LHN to lift the first knit st of the 3 sts just worked over the last 2 knit sts; rep from * to last st before marker, K1, SM, purl to last 2 sts, K2.

Row 27: Sl1P, K1, yo, K2tog, [yo, K3] twice, K1, SM, knit to marker, SM, K1, [K3, yo] twice, K2tog, yo, K2. 86 sts


For the wrap only
Change to crossed eyelet stitch.
Row 28 and every even row (WS): Sl1P, K1, purl to marker, SM, *K1, P8, K1; repeat from * 5 times, SM, purl to last 2 sts, K2.

Row 29 (RS): Sl1P, K1, yo, K2tog, yo, K5, yo, K4, SM, *P1, K8, P1, repeat from * 5 times, SM, K4, yo, K5, yo, K2tog, yo, K2. 90 sts.

Row 31: Sl1P, [K2tog, yo] twice, K2, sl1, K2tog, psso, K5, SM, *P1, K1, [skpo, yo] 3 times, K1, P1, repeat from * 5 times, SM, K5, sl1, K2tog, psso, K2, [yo, K2tog] twice, K1. 86 sts.

Row 33: Sl1P, [K2tog, yo] twice, K2, skpo, K4, SM, *P1, K1, [skpo, yo] 3 times, K1, P1, repeat from * 5 times, SM, K4, skpo, K2, [yo, K2tog] twice, K1. 84 sts.

Row 35: Sl1P, [K2tog, yo] twice, K2, skpo, K3, SM, *P1, [skpo, yo] 3 times, K2, P1, repeat from * 5 times, SM, K3, skpo, K2, [yo, K2tog] twice, K1. 82 sts.

Row 37: Sl1P, [K2tog, yo] twice, K2, skpo, K2, SM, *P1, K1, [skpo, yo] twice, K3, P1, repeat from * 5 times, SM, K2, skpo, K2, [yo, K2tog] twice, K1. 80 sts.

Row 39: Sl1P, K1, yo, K2tog, yo, K1, yo, K2, skpo, K1, SM, P1, C4B, K4, P1, repeat from * 5 times, SM, K1, skpo, K2, yo, K1, yo, K2tog, yo, K2. 82 sts.

Row 41: Sl1P, K1, yo, K2tog, [yo, K3] twice, K1, SM, *P1, K8, P1, repeat from * to next marker, SM, K1, [K3, yo] twice, K2tog, yo, K2. 86 sts.

Row 42 (WS): Sl1P, K1, purl to marker, SM, *K1, P8, K1; repeat from * 5 times, SM, purl to last 2 sts, K2.

Repeat rows 29-42 until wrap reaches desired length minus approximately 7 inches (18 cm) for remaining knot stitch, ending last repeat after a 41st row. The wrap in the photograph has 18 repeats of the crossed-eyelet-stitch pattern.

Change to knot stitch.
Row 280 (WS): Sl1P, K1, purl to marker, SM, *K1, P8, K1; repeat from * 5 times, SM, purl to last 2 sts, K2.

Row 281 (RS): Sl1P, K1, yo, K2tog, yo, K5, yo, K4, SM, *P1, K8, P1; repeat from * to next marker, SM, K4, yo, K5, yo, K2tog, yo, K2.
Rows 282-307: Repeat rows 2-27.

Row 308: Sl1P, K1, purl to marker, SM, K1, *K3, then use the tip of LHN to lift the first knit stitch of the 3 sts just worked over the last 2 knit sts, yo; rep from * to last 2 sts before marker, K2, SM, purl to last 2 sts, K2.

Bind off loosely on RS as follows:
Using size 10 needles, *K2tog loosely, slip the stitch just made on RHN back to LHN, repeat from *.

Finishing
Weave in ends.
Block by the damp-finishing method.

this is not the best i can do. this is what i do.

for so long, i have told myself that i can't draw. i've told myself that the only people who are talented are those who can draw realistically. how foolish! being able to draw realistically makes others more talented than i am about as much as it makes them a photo printer. this is nowhere near the most realistic drawing of myself i've ever done, but i'm really pleased with it. and a couple months ago, i threw away the most realistic drawing of myself i've ever done. i didn't like looking at it because it took me forever to do and i knew someone else could have done it better, could have drawn me more realistically. i like this picture because no one else would have drawn me exactly like this. with the same concept and the same tools, they would have done it however they felt was best.

it reminds me of when annie and bryan were over one night and we were listening to erlend's dj kicks cd while cooking dinner. bryan said, "i could write a better song than this with my asshole." and the night at starbucks when i was complaining to ricky and amanda about jackson pollock being a hack. anybody could do that! i could do that! "but you didn't," amanda said. because i wouldn't! exactly, dumbass. even with the same concept and tools, it would have been what i thought was best. even if bryan did write a song with his asshole, it absolutely would not have been down-tempo house.

"perhaps you can write better if you leave the mistakes." -jorge luis borges

i talk about finding uniqueness and then want to fix all my mistakes. make it exactly right. exactly how it looks. exactly what someone else would do. idiot. obviously, i want it to look like what i'm trying to draw, but giving it permission to be imperfect allowed me to be able to focus on communicating. if i am less hard on myself, i'll want to draw more, and with the practice, i'll get better. this my thinking. i kind of chanted to myself "leave the mistakes" as i chose which pencil lines to trace with my pens.

i wasn't even going to sit down and draw this today. i had the idea and thought i should probably go buy a peacock feather so i could understand it. i thought i should have my dad take a picture of my mom's vanity and email it to me so i could make sure i got all the details just right. oh, and i "didn't have time" to do it today, as if there's anything more important than drawing before i go to work at 4:30. but i didn't want to lose the idea, so i decided to do a quick sketch. a lot of erasing and do-overs, some inexpensive bic felt tips i love, and a set of plain ol' dinky crayola colored pencils later, and i'm really proud of myself for trying while it was a fresh, exciting idea. i drew the peacock feather really quickly and lightly from a picture i googled. i just was using it for reference, but i liked it once i was done coloring the other side and decided to color it, too.

as a girl, i really hated that we call this a vanity. vanity is such a negative word and i hated the idea that looking at yourself in the mirror automatically made you a vain person. these days, i'm really a fan of calling things what they are, and i think "vanity" is the perfect name for any area created so one can comfortably sit for a length of time solely to ensure they look great. i always really liked my mom's vanity and would love to have some monstrous antique one of my own, even though it would definitely take up much more room than it was worth. vanity is one of those parts of my personality i'm trying to come to terms with and really consider. i've been obsessed with growing out my hair. when i picture myself in my head, it's with long, gorgeous hair. i still want it, but i don't like the reasons why i want it, so i'm thinking about that.

we expect our lovers to be our soul mates. That’s a lot of pressure to put on our lovers. We can’t expect them to be our everythings. If it was possible for one person to be what everything we need, we wouldn’t need our friends. I need other deep relationships besides my relationship with chris. I need a best friend appropriate for me at this point in my life. How do I find that?

Clothing as armor
Fear of showing sensitivity ----->
Chris is part of that.
He thinks it’s goofy.
Want others to find me callous.
Emotion is anger.
Even though I’m not angry.
“You do not really confide in many people, then they do not know you, and then you quickly surmise they do not understand and love you.” Anais nin pg 121

I’m not ready to say anything about me, and I don’t want my clothing to, either.

Today is the day I lift the ban on white clothing. I wake up with a need for blankness. I don’t need my clothing to express my individuality right now. I think to myself, “If I wore muted colors every day and didn’t speak, who would I be?” The desire to simplify my life comes from a need to identify what’s really going on. If I lived alone and took away all the unnecessary crap. If I lived in a blank cabin in the woods, bare bones, with no one to impress or explain myself to, what would be left. I am literally asking, “Who am I?”


I put on my uniform 6 days in a row. Red and khaki everyday. The only other thing I wear is pajamas. I’ve been asked if I dress goth outside of work. “Uh, no... actually, I dress like Rainbow Brite.” Am I combating the way I act with the way I dress? More fear of being misunderstood. I’ve talked with fellow employees about how odd each of us looks outside of red and khaki. How easy we are to ignore while out of uniform. It used to feel so strange wearing the same thing every day. I see someone come in on their day off, look at their clothes and think, “Oh, that’s what kind of person they are.” Individuality is difficult to express. When you try to through what you wear, you could intimidate others. Give them a false impression. Keep them from getting to know you. I want to be blank so I can get to know myself. Who is in there?

“The basis of insincerity is the idealized image we hold of ourselves and wish to impose on others – an admirable image.” – Anais Nin

songs

take on me - a-ha
behind the wheel (live) - depeche mode
serenade for winds 3rd movement - mozart
ordinary world - duran duran
black - pearl jam
plowed - sponge
last goodbye - jeff buckley
tomorrow never knows - the beatles
regret - new order
stars - hum
hummer - smashing pumpkins
she runs away - duncan sheik
1979 - smashing pumpkins
narcolepsy - ben folds five
lonely soul - UNKLE/richard ashcroft
setting sun - chemical brothers
born slippy - underworld
pink moon - nick drake
(your love keeps lifting me) higher & higher - jackie wilson
morning bell (kid a version) - radiohead
elevators (me and you) - outkast
only in dreams - weezer
little fluffy clouds - the orb
so strong (sander kleinenberg mix) - ben shaw
carry the zero - built to spill
the audience - herbert
gold in the air of summer - kings of convenience
same - dani siciliano
tables and chairs - andrew bird
the boy with the thorn in his side - the smiths
poor leno (silikon soul remix)/there is a light that never goes out (acapella) - röyksopp v/s erlend øye
pocketful of money - jens lekman
never seen blue - tori amos
keep falling - hot chip



albums

violator - depeche mode
siamese dream - smashing pumpkins
weezer - weezer
harvest moon - neil young
ok computer - radiohead
dig your own hole - chemical brothers
out there and back - paul van dyk
kid a - radiohead
vespertine - bjork
photo album - death cab for cutie
blue - joni mitchell
global underground: 19 - john digweed
bodily functions - herbert
gish - smashing pumpkins
riot on an empty street - kings of convenience
you're so silent jens - jens lekman

My Diary November 29, 1991 - September 19, 1994 5th grade - 7th grade

My Heart 2 Heart Diary December 1995 - July 1996 freshman year

Eyes February 1998* - September 2002 junior year - sophomore year of college - planet xchange

*Lord Byron winter 1998 & 1999 christmas senior year

Suede September 2002 - June 2004 planet, dropout club, isolation from 129, medicated depression, pot-head, problems with chris

Tragic Thoughts June 2004 - September 2004 more of the same

Delirium September 2004** - September 2005 potlucks, ma, off medication, lose weight, feel great, g & s marriage, key-holder.

**CD Project April 2005




phase one:

birth - middle school

phase two:

high school - September 2000 (129)

phase three:

September 2000 - february 2001

phase four:

march 2001 (chris) - February 2005

phase five:

march 2005 - April 2006

phase six:

may 2006 (unemployment) - December 2007

phase seven:

January 2008 - currently

always tell him what you’re thinking about. He likes to know what’s on your mind. You know that because he told you so. Even the stuff that makes you blush or feel ashamed. Tell him your ideas. He can help you build them. Tell him your dreams. even if they’re silly. Don’t be afraid to open up to him. He will not ridicule you. He is supportive. If he ever did ridicule you, you’d point it out to him. you wouldn’t let him get away with anything. So don’t worry about that. He is on your side.

While sick and about to pass out on cough medicine, you confessed your desire to share your life, your discoveries, your art, and yourself with others, but you weren’t sure how to find people who would want to listen and share as well. Your journals hold what you consider to be important discoveries about yourself. Why do you feel compelled to share with others? Where does this need to feel like you’re understood come from? (It’s arm and arm with hoping there is meaning behind living, even though you don’t believe in an afterlife.) Is this a root of your fear of being ridiculed? Is part of it the fear of being misunderstood? Chris says he wants to help me find a way to build more confidence. He thinks that’s the root. I feel like I’m not as good as the strangers I fear will ridicule me.

Being a kinder person ------>
do not allow others to mistake your candid nature for anger or hatefulness. Watch your tone. You know you’re not angry. Make sure others do, too. Same goes for joking. Don’t allow others to think you’re being unkind when you think you’re being funny. It’s your responsibility to make sure you’re being understood, and you will feel more confident if you know others understand you. You are in control of whether or not others think you’re mean. Watch your words. Make an honest attempt to avoid language that others consider unprofessional. It’s ok to show frustration, but make sure others know you appreciate their hard work. Recognize them publicly. Resist the urge to sound callous over showing emotion. Make eye contact. Smile.

from my great-grandmothers, i have:
watches
coins
a severely damaged photograph
compacts...

All broken.
No knowledge of whether or not these items were sentimental to them or why. The compacts are sentimental to me because I know mamaw used them.

What would I put in a time capsule for my great-granddaughter?

1982 world’s fair lighter cover
roadtrip pocketknife
bracelet from mom and dad (colorado)
ren-fair necklace
a photograph of me, dated, framed
merbabies
make it spring! Cd w/ track list
death card
items I obsessively kept with me for some time every day, but don’t anymore.

Identity through objects
individuality
uniqueness
in a mass production society.
Sentimentality over objects
detailed
small embellishments
memories and value
I hope to share with unborn strangers.

I want my great-granddaughter to have the things I used and loved. I want them to be in good shape. Precious things, not just discarded, broken objects that were the only things left. Keepsakes that mean more than money you can’t spend.

Keep eyes open for fashionable boxes that speak to me and can house keepsakes.

at last, royal blue. Or maybe navy. It’s easier to have a full day before work when I leave the house. It’s now a quarter to one, and I’ve already been to target and kroger and back - a little grocery errand that never happened yesterday. I was consumed by the search for a book about the clothing of the 1930's. as of the 10th, I am into the 1930's.

I had started The Diary of Anais Nin a few days before, but didn’t really get into it until stuck in the waiting room of the walk-in clinic for an hour and a half. I’m up to page 43, and I hate June for taking Anais’s clothing and using the money she gave her, all she had for the month, on frivolous things. I hate her for using Anais like that, but I want to know more about her (ugh! June!).

There were so many references to their clothing, trading jewelry instead of kisses, and I couldn’t imagine what these items may look like. Also, I wondered how beautiful could June really be. I could only find 2 pictures of her online, and both were only of her face, one in profile. She looked to me like she were about to fall apart piece by piece. First her hair would topple, pins and all, followed by her sunken eyes, ringed in some greasy shadow, then her smug mouth and thin, high-arched brows, her ears, her nose, common. But maybe photography doesn’t do her justice.

I wanted a good example of the clothes she and Anais wear, and that desire seeped into yesterday, setting its course and leading me away from the few necessary chores I had. I even put off going to the cd store, a trip to south knoxville, and drove out west where I was more likely to find precisely what I was looking for.

I found the book at barnes and noble after a few other stops were fruitless. I also found a postcard of a photograph taken in 1932 by brassai called “lovers in a café.” Paris, 1932. I will be carrying it around with me. For a time, I tucked it in the fashion book with a bluejay feather I’d foun in the driveway as I was leaving the house. I

’d been imagining designing jens lekman a 30's inspired outfit with little feather details such as a subtle one on his hat and a red and green combination from a parrot on his lapel like a flower. Jens looks very “smart” in a suit. I saw a video of him playing “black cab” in a white suit once. Not every man can pull off a white suit, but he looked splendid. I thought maybe I could pull something together for him as I was making pasta for lunch. The collage method. But then lunch was ready and I forgot about it until the driveway.

When I got home, I set the fashion book out with the postcard and the feather. I flipped through the book while watching “rebecca,” which is from 1940, but the clothes are still late 30's, and made a half ass attempt at making some notes about what I was thinking before getting sidetracked by a hailstorm and the idea of creating a keep-sake box for my great-granddaughter.

It feels so good to want to be so totally immersed in the world of a book just 40 pages in. I didn’t read a book last month other than a volume of fruits basket I’d already read. I tried but was faced with several false starts. I used the month for knitting and penpals and (excitement!) drawing, instead. I feel really good about that, so I don’t mind missing a month on my read-a-book-a-month resolution. But I feel a reading and writing flow may be coming on and life is better off the couch. I’d like to sit out side, weather providing, at least 30 minutes a day, before noon, every day that I can. Even if I have to drag a chair outside and all of our neighbors besides p & l annoy me. Chris should buy me a hammock.

i look back and it's there where it wasn't before. But now it’s as if you I could close the book or pull it away, out of frame and every line, curve, crossed t, doodle, phrase, list, drawing, experiment, exclamation, revelation, missed opportunity would hang in the air, all their colors overlapping now from where the pages which had once shielded them from each other, walls around them, holding them, were now gone, and every mark, scribble, dot, and dash was left behind to simply be precisely what they are – penmarks and nothing more. Very descriptive penmarks. Tomorrow, we dance.

I guess it’d be the same effect if these white pages were clear. A journal of translucent pages. Oh, my god, I want to do that so bad! Clear paper. Not tracing paper. Not cellophane. Sturdy enough to turn without crinkling up or ripping, but not frosted. CLEAR. One page could inform the next or not. Treated as a regular journal you can’t see through as you write in it makes it more interesting when you read it. Writing on it in fine-tip sharpies. The cover... should it be clear or normal, hiding a secret. Not plastic. Is that possible?

listening to alan's cd and thinking of you. I’m alone in the house tonite as the boys have gone to see their families and I’m thinking of you here.

what would it be like to lay next to you naked, sharing a cigarette, laughs, and sweet looks. Would it be like that after sex with you? It’s like that with chris a lot.

I’ve forgotten what you look like naked. I don’t imagine it, either. It’s more about me being naked, over the covers, and you finding me beautiful, my every move graceful and captivating. It’s about you seeing me the way chris might.

What’s so damn special about cowboys, anyway?

Fall in love with the cowboy, but keep him to yourself. Never marry the cowboy.

Marry the knight in shining armor. Just remember he has his faults, too. But at least he’s somewhat reliable and honest.

I am such an idiot.

Sigh.

sometimes it's here.
sometimes it's congested.
too much traffic.

Lose the traffic.

Because I know my skin would be electrified under your kiss.
Tense.
I know the back of your hand could stroke shivers into me.
I know the heat of you would
it hurts. I ache. Foreign fingers.

Clear out the traffic
congestion.

You think you’re so smart.

I’m still learning
how to keep secrets.
I’m still learning
to shirk the
policy of truth.
I still want to become a better person by learning from the people around me.
I want you near, but not out in the open. From you, I want to learn about myself. I want to learn that I am all of the things I admire about you, and none of the things I despise.

I love you because
you’re all the things
I want to be.

From you, I’ll learn?
I don’t even know anything about you.
Maybe you are just a body.
An attitude.
Otherwise a clean, white wall
to project romantic melodrama on.

You are my pet project.

Out of the open
the non-essential
can be whoever I want.

Cool calm clear
kind smart sexy

when do you become
who you are if you’re
always searching to
improve yourself?
You’re always unfinished until
you die, and then it
doesn’t matter
anymore. This is
the reason we
created religion.

Why we created god.

The need to feel that
when we’re dead, it
wasn’t all for
nothing.

It gives us a reason
to be alive to live at all.

If everyone in the world was an atheist, we wouldn’t do anything but survive.
The search for god
is a search to be better
than we are.
When man created god,
we opened the door
to become something more
than an animal existing
purely on the survival level.
We created comfort and excess
for ourselves, and evolution
as an animal of this planet
disappeared, replaced by
wealth, status, and morality.
We seek notoriety by inventing
unnecessary toys, and to better
ourselves by buying them because
in religion we are taught
that we are smaller than
we are and encouraged to
follow a specific set of rules
it is in our very nature
to reject in order to go on
to something better after out
deaths, which we’re told will
make our struggle worthwhile.
Technology, in its constantly
changing world, has allowed
us a way to reject god and
the rules of any specific religion
by promising our salvation
by purchasing the next big
thing, hence technology
has replaced god as the
entity that will deliver
us from our miserable,
meaningless lives and
cure what ails.
That will we think
of next?

1. I can’t fail.
2. I want to be likable.
3. I want to make people laugh.
Imagined discussions with
heroes over dinner.
I’m so clever and funny.
Wise beyond my years.
Charming.
Truly impressive.
I make everyone smile.
That’s all I want.
In every fantasy all
I do is make them smile.
I just want people to like me and
know that I am genuine.
4. I want to impress people.
5. I am actually quite charming, even when I’m a bitch.

The dreams I don’t tell you about
never take place on our couch.
I’m smiling
I’m charming
I’m loved
and I’ve left you
I live in another country
with someone I’ve never met

the dreams I don’t tell you about
are full of flowers
and red headed boys
ages four and six
who sing like angels
the kitchen is warm
and a mobile of colored glass
hangs in the window there.
It’s something every parent should have
I sing while brewing coffee
for someone who had a long night
and is sleeping in

the dreams I have don’t tell you about
are the ones where I am
someone you would laugh at,
but they keep me inspired when we’re
sitting here pissing our lives away together.
Until I can share dreams with you
they’ll never include you.

genuinely
become
admirable
to whom
you admire
by bravely
admitting to
and working towards
your desires.
Become vocal,
not to impress
but to undress.
GIVE GENUINELY AND BRAVELY.
Give life to your passions and let them loose.
Expose yourself to those you trust.
Let them feel your excitement.
FEEL EXCITED!
Keep this close to you.
Keep it in everything you do.
It’s necessary to do what scares you.
Do it honestly and do not hide it.

pull inside of me all that I can hear
taste
feel
smell and
see. I am an unusual shape. Individual
and UNIQUE
thanks to all the world I soak up.
My own unique experiences and
impressions have shaped me into
this girl with these arms.
These hands that grab and pull
inside and hold every bit, crumb
of knowledge.
Pull it in
hold your breath
open wide
spill it out again/give it back
others need it, too.
We can shape each other well.
Surround yourself with how you want to
be. Surround those who want molding,
too.
In and out, a community of those
willing to take,
process, give back.
There is room for us all.
Just OPEN UP!
By letting it out,
you make room for more.

i really do feel everyone on this earth is here to help each other by teaching. Everything that happens is a lesson, and if you aren’t able to recognize that and don’t learn what you’re supposed to, you’ll make the same mistake until you do. And that keeps you from moving on and learning the most important thing: why you what role you play in the larger scheme of things. And I think that maybe this is my role. Teaching people these things. Some people kill... all I can say to that is, it’s hard to find what you’re looking for, and it’s hard to accept your role. But by killing, people are learning from you. People are seeing what this world is made of and deciding to change that. There is no such thing as meaningless death. Everything happens for a reason. If a person is killed, in this life then it was their time to die. They’ve learned and taught what they were supposed to in this lie and it’s time to move on. At the same time, their death is teaching.

I wonder about these pages. If in 20 years, their stories will still tend to conjure the same feelings. Perhaps, of course, after all that time, they’ll only be words on pages. I hope so. I’m sure that in twenty years I’ll have enough things to worry about without gather bad feelings from these instances which will be long past. I want to really start writing again, just for me. It’s something I’ve loved and something I miss. For some reason, I can do no other art without needing words for it. My prose and poetry seems to be the one thing I can create to stand by itself. And I miss inspiration so dearly. It is my search for the truth outside of myself. And outlet and a joy. I want to see the world as something that can be turned into verse again. And sometimes, I want to share the beauty of it all with everyone, anyone. Maybe even chris. I do not want to think of chores and responsibilities today. I just want my loops and stabs and strikes to go on for the remainder of the day. I begin to scrawl a few moments and then sleep wants to come. I could ignore it if I didn’t want it, but indecision is causing my handwriting to deteriorate. Or maybe just my hand’s freedom of motion. I know not why, but sleep sings again, and who am I to turn a deaf ear to its lullaby? Perhaps it was yesterday’s prayer for coma that has caused this hint of my former narcolepsy? Not that it matters. Sleep echoes in my ears this moment and I am hypnotized. I will obey. I must and will obey.

iwishihadagiftforwordsthatmadeotherssaywowthankyou

but I don’t

wastinginkandglitter
- stupid -

wastinglife

what happened so that

I have nothing to say

iwonder

words are hope for connection with other human beings. Explain to me the need to write words that move people. I want to make people think. I want to put words on the page that describe a feeling someone else has also had. I want to make a connection. To feel understood and create understandings.

So why have me words run dry?

In an effort to understand my fear of ridicule, I must understand my need to communicate with others.
My opinion of myself matters less to me than the opinions of others. If someone else thinks I’m stupid, that’s what they understand of me. I have obviously done something to make them come to this conclusion.
I have acted in a way others perceive as stupid.
Others have perceived me as stupid, so I must have acted stupidly.
I must be stupid.
My only hope is that they have misunderstood me. I am not stupid, I have merely communicated poorly. Had I been able to make them understand me, they would have seen that my action was not stupid at all.
My actions will not dictate who I am. The way others interpret my actions will dictate who I am. I feel compelled to share my intentions and opinions in the hopes that I will be understood. “Surely if others understand me, they will see how magnificent I am and like me. Then I’ll be able to like myself.”
I feel compelled to silence my feelings and desires for fear of ridicule. “Surely if others ridicule me, I am worthy of their ridicule. They will not like me, and I’ll be unable to like myself.”



Why does my opinion of myself matter less to me than the opinions of others? And not just friends or family or people who know me, either. Why does my opinion of myself matter less to me than that of a stranger? Why do I feel I am less than a complete stranger? Even a twelve year old?