salad days

Sat, 26 Dec 2009 02:05:28 GMT

Mon, 21 Dec 2009 07:13:54 GMT

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Wed, 16 Dec 2009 20:28:22 GMT

This feels like something I should be whispering.

There's a freedom I'm missing out on. I can feel it like a phantom limb. It should be there. Sometimes I feel just enough of it to remember it and that I lost it somewhere. I have no idea how to go about getting it back though. It's out there with the sunlight. Where can I go to get some sunlight around here?

The other day someone said "white picket fence" and there was a pang of longing in my heart. What is this nonsense. I HAVE NO TOLERANCE FOR FEELINGS OF LONGING OVER SUCH THINGS.

This is why animals hibernate in the winter. To keep from going crazy.

how we change

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 04:51:58 GMT

I used to fit into suitcases that I afraid I may not fit into anymore.

Finally finally finally updated my etsy. More things to come this weekend too!

jackaltails.etsy.com

Tue, 08 Dec 2009 21:32:26 GMT

Images from my personal journal:

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"losing you in a fog and slowly becoming a block of ice"

"winter 2007 - You only brought death."

"If I were to live my life
in catfish forms
in scaffolds of skin and whiskers
at the bottom of a pond
and you were to come by
one evening
when the moon was shining
down into my dark home
and stand there at the edge
of my affection
and think, "It's beautiful
here by this pond. I wish
somebody loved me,"
I'd love you and be your catfish
friend and drive such lonely
thoughts from your mind
and suddenly you would be
at peace,
and ask yourself, "I wonder
if there are any catfish
in this pond? It seems like
a perfect place for them." "

-Richard Brautigan
(Your Catfish Friend)

"Probably the closest thing to perfection are the huge absolutely empty holes that astronomers have recently discovered in space. If there's nothing there, how can anything go wrong?"
-Richard Brautigan

"Be yourself, everyone else is taken."
-Oscar Wilde

Mon, 07 Dec 2009 11:02:37 GMT

Things I Would Like:
by Kristina S. B. on a late night that has just turned into the kind of early morning everyone still calls a late night from under the covers in a cold bedroom

1. to do all of the things I think about that would change me as a person but that I end up too lazy to do
2. to find my copy of A Confederate General From Big Sur so I can reread all of the cute passages about alligators
3. to think more, instead of just when I'm restless and can't sleep
4. to stop taking things for granted, especially the ones that make me happy

posted to jr_nal

Tue, 01 Dec 2009 22:20:56 GMT

Tue, 01 Dec 2009 09:00:21 GMT

I feel odd. I feel how I imagine I would feel if I was someone's cat and they packed me up and moved to a new home and then I couldn't find any of the same spots I used to feel comfortable in because the light didn't come in through the windows at the same angle anymore.

And I feel cold and mean all of the time nowadays. I should get to the bottom of this all.

Mon, 09 Nov 2009 08:57:36 GMT

I can't picture living my life three more times over but isn't that what I'm supposed to hope for? Can't I just learn my life moral now or must it wait until my deathbed for the Things I Wish I'd Done When I Still Had the Chance thoughts? Will I make sure to keep them from young loved ones so they won't feel as doomed? No one ever says anything dooming on their deathbed. It's all hope and optimism and graciousness, but after "Live life for the fullest!" there must be a murmur of "because I didn't and you won't either", mustn't there?

I like asking people what near death experiences are like and they tell me the colors you see how your body shakes in excitement how water feels in your lungs and what it sometimes sounds like in your ears (like telephones, I've been told). Oscar Wilde said "I am not young enough to know everything" when he was twice my age so perhaps I should be writing down all I know now because maybe maybe this is the age when I secretly know everything and it would be nice to know how to live.

Also, I had a dream the other night that my apartment was blue so the next day I painted the walls and ceiling how I'd seen. God: please send more clear dreams like that on What To Do, and fewer dreams about octopuses and tree houses because I cannot use those in real life very well.

Mon, 02 Nov 2009 09:46:04 GMT

"He used to think that he wanted to be good, he wanted to be kind, he wanted to be brave and wise, but it was all pretty difficult. He wanted to be loved too, if he could fit that in."
F. Scott Fitzgerald

There's something hollow about the space something empty about the bed something cold about the mornings and too still about the nights and it's not just from loneliness I think but more from the thought of trying to fall asleep from now on with the sound of your deep breathing being replaced by the shuffling of the mouse that lives in the wall next to where I place my pillow.

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 22:35:46 GMT

will tear us apart. again.

Mon, 12 Oct 2009 23:06:58 GMT

The State of Nevada Government had the audacity to give me a ticket when I was driving home from Burning Man last month when I clearly could not have been bothered by speed limits. I don't believe I was putting anyone in danger driving 85 in the middle of the damn desert. A desert so barren the only animals I saw were two flies the ENTIRE WEEK. So really, even the rattlesnakes were safe from me.

But in any case, the court does not favor my case and I've got a hefty ticket to pay so I wanted to post on here that I am selling pairs of the taxidermic wings I wore there on my etsy! They'd make a lovely halloween costume in any case.

jackaltails.etsy.com

Burning Man 2009

Sat, 10 Oct 2009 02:29:52 GMT

I've tried writing about my Burning Man trip on here over and over, and it's been a month and I still can't find a way to put together what it was like. I spent seven days in the sun feeling like a lizard and now that I'm back home everywhere feels too cold. I took too many pills, drank too much gin too much wine too much rum too much whiskey. I gave away tons of crystals but still not enough. In the afternoons, water trucks drove by fanning water out behind them to keep the dust from stirring up and my neighbors and I would run out stripping off all our clothes so we could bathe behind it like dusty little birds.I brought large quartz points wrapped and on necklaces to give away. The first person I gave one too was a boy about my age who walked up to me and kissed both my cheeks and said I was beautiful in French. I thanked him and put a crystal around his neck and he thanked me and kissed me on the lips and we parted.

Art:
The art pieces in the desert were amazing. I don't think I even got around to half of them. One of my favorites was a giant bug sculpture that you could climb into it's head and lie in hammocks. There was a field of flame throwers that shot fire out of the ground into the sky in patterns hill people walked throughout it. There was a giant 20' tall rubix cube with each side controlled from a different tower that someone told me a group of people solved with walk talkies. The nit the man was burned I stumbled into an art piece of four large asteroids that were suspended so you could put your head and shoulders inside. One looked like the inside of a volcano, and there was one of a cavern, jungle, and coral reef, and they were full of crystals and lights and sounds of the place. He and I stood inside a giant mirrored prism. I rode down a three story slide and found a huge cube of glow sticks hanging from fishing wire and there was a space just in the middle where you could stand and it felt like you were standing in the rain and time had stopped. A giant metallic space ship was in the center of the camp. Astronauts piled into it and it lifted into the air suspended by a giant magnet and billowing fire and smoke. On one of the last mornings, I followed a scale model of our solar system out to the edge of the playa. There were umbrellas and reclining chairs that faced away and out o the rest of the desert. It was beautiful and quiet and surreal. I walked all along the edge and found a giant sculpture with a basket of crystals which said to Please Take One. I spent the morning drinking from my flask and gazing out at the mountains.

The Thunderdome:
Lev and I went to the Thunderdome with a large group of people on the second night. The dome was huge and in the center was a large oman dressed as a viking it giant horns on her head. She held a giant scepter and stood between to men h were strapped into bungee harnesses and holding foam bats. They rushed at each other fighting and then got pulled back by the cords. He carried me on his shoulders and I climb off of them up onto the dome to watch two firemen who were in uniform working at the festival. It was really sweet seeing them fighting and enjoying themselves so much. I wanted to give them both crystals but I was too drunk and our group moved on to a music temple.

The Temple:
The temple was a giant three story lotus flower built out of wooden beams. Inside there were pictures and letters of goodbyes and apologies to people who couldn't be there to read them or hear them. I watched the sunset from between the petals that reached towards the sky and wrote a letter on the floor beams of the top level to Pierce. I can't honestly think of anyone I miss more than Pierce and a big part of me knows that he'll probably never speak to me again. He was my best friend and if there's anything I could travel back in time to repair it would be our friendship.

The Man:
The man was in a giant ring of trees made out of wooden boards. He and I were in the very front before the burn. Everyone waited through a sandstorm. It was so thick that we couldn't see anyone or the man at all. The boy next to us gave us chocolate and everyone attached a marching band and firedancers. Finally fireworks went off and the man started to burn and explode. At the end, everyone rushed forward over the rangers and firefighters in shiny metallic hazmat suits and circled the giant burning forest until the man fell.

Art Cars:
There were art cars that drove al around throughout the day and night playing music. We rode a couple of them on our first night. I think one was a giant ship and another was a two story house. On one of the days I spent in the middle of the playa I saw an art car decorated as a white cat and another as a black cat and they'd just found each other and were taking pictures together with the to cats nose to nose. There was one car that looked like a giant cage that said "Animal Control" on the side and they drove around catching people dressed as animals in giant nets.

Camps:
There were so many giant elaborate themed camps. On the last day, he and I went to a giant Hookah-dome covered it pillows and rugs it a ceiling covered in deep scarlet and purple billowing scarves. There was a beautiful zendo I napped in. A camp down the street from us had a huge orchestra shell and hosted tea parties. Another was a decorated bar styled like an old saloon with elaborate Victorian couches, rugs, and decadent gold framed pictures and taxidermic animals. In the center there was a giant rope swing that swooped through the entire bar over everyone's head. In the middle of the desert was a tiny bar that I somehow got convinced into drinking rum in something called a "shot-ski" here four people took shots at the same time out of shot glasses attached to a ski. It was the bartender's birthday and I gave her a crystal and a kiss. There was a snow cone camp, ice cream camp, latex body paint camps, a giant zendo, and a couple of BDSM camps. Lev and I sat at one that had a large amount of elaborate cages and devices. In the front was a large chained web with a naked man blindfolded and handcuffed to the top. A woman was whipping him as she casually talked to her friend about her day like they were in a cafe sharing a cup of coffee. There was a giant camp in the center with pillows covering the sand and benches. He and I slept there the first day when we were too tired to set up our tent. There were always tons of people inside doing all sorts of things and surrounding the camp were lots of bars, dance domes, and food camps. One of the neighboring camps brought 600 lb. of pancake batter and served everyone breakfast in the mornings.

Photo credits also to: butter_fry, Jeff Sullivan, lomokev, espressobuzz, hyperlocal, icka, suz_or_sooze, Brian_U, and seaotter22, from Flickr.

Thu, 24 Sep 2009 05:43:32 GMT

I love you.

I didn't say it enough.

I didn't say it enough. I didn't write it enough didn't whisper it enough didn't trace the words with my fingers on your back enough. But I thought about it a lot. I thought about it so much. That's what I would do different, you know. Things would still probably have been doomed, but if I could do it all over again that would be what I do different. I'd tell you ever day I love you I love you I love you. Do you wonder about that? If I'd do it all over again?

Yes yes yes little lion little chelovek . The same, over and over, but this time you would know I love you. You would be certain because every night it would be the last thing I murmur in your ear. There aren't many things I can say I would repeat, but you're one and one of the few.

Tue, 15 Sep 2009 23:54:31 GMT

I've been gone for so long but you'll hear more from me soon. The meteor shower was beautiful, the desert felt like home, and the leaves and weather are just starting to change and it gives me chills of the good kind.

Sat, 15 Aug 2009 21:17:45 GMT

The disturbing part about what happened to me and my friend Cedric is that the people pretending to be us didn't just steal our pictures and names, they stole what they could about our pasts and personalities and spent a year "as us". They talked and wrote as if they were us, about what they imagined were things we would do, say, feel, think, even fabricating interactions and relationships between "Cedric" and "myself" that were updated on a daily basis. They spent months online and over voice chat "in our characters", elaborating, embellishing, and twisting our worst personality flaws into something they must have seen as "alluring tragicness". In the wake of this escapade is now a boy who thought he was in love with "me" and another boy who thought that "Cedric" was a close confidant and friend.

The people who adopted our identities haven't called us or even tried to contact us, and honestly I don't think that that was ever their intention. It feels now like they weren't trying to know more about us or become closer to us personally, just closer to the idea of who they thought we were like we were fictional characters in a book that didn't explain us well enough.

I like getting to share my writing publicly and feel that most of what I write is vague enough on personal details that it does not need to be censored. I really appreciate everyone's comments and I've decided that I'm going to keep the majority of my journal public due to the interest in my journal from everyone on my last post.

Wed, 12 Aug 2009 21:59:26 GMT

Someone has been pretending, over the phone, instant messenger, and internet, to be me and a friend of mine for over a year. They knew details about our pasts, personalities, lives, and had fabricated a relationship between us. This was all brought to my attention today.

Because of this, entries are going to be Friends Only now and if you want to read them, add me and I will look at your journal and possibly add you back.

Mon, 10 Aug 2009 16:29:36 GMT

I'm off into the forest for three days to watch the Perseids meteor shower. It's a shame I'm so terrible at thinking up wishes. They always end up very vague... "I wish for a good week" sort of wishes. Boring sorts. But if there's going to be an entire shower of shooting stars I better at least dig down to some real desires I've got that I'd like to have actualized and get them all out of the way in one fail swoop.

Also, things feel very lovely seemingly everywhere but in my chest under the ribs. There's a moth still rattling around making me very nervous about all the loveliness. I can't be sure why I'm holding on to it.

Sat, 01 Aug 2009 01:18:36 GMT

Hell bound juju tries to whisper to me tries to speed me up tries to slow me down I have other priorities now you know I have other passions now you know more organic more natural less chemical things to make me happy better things to make my heart speed speed speed it's beats.

It's mostly you little wolf. Can you hear the things I think the secrets I say in my head sometimes sometimes sometimes when our eyes are so close you look blurry and I look blurry? It's alright if you can. It's probably alright. I think it might be alright. Because really they're all words that are really just too nice to say out loud. All secrets that I think you probably already know. Secrets I pretend are still secrets. Sometimes I look at you out of focus and say all the thoughts in my head exactly like saying them out loud. It feels the same, almost the same, just without pushing air out my lungs past my throat off my tongue, but not through my teeth, the words wouldn't go through those.

Maybe you can hear maybe sometimes you can, because sometimes, sometimes I think I can hear your thoughts. Do you know what that's like my dear? It's like listening to electricity running through telephone lines and electrical boxes and it's like putting you ear next to an outlet and hearing the soft buzzing and swearing you can hear words in it. That's what it's like.

Lots of new things in my shop, jackaltails.etsy.com! xo

Tue, 14 Jul 2009 03:12:42 GMT

I started an ethanol fire today. I heard the glass cracking from the heat and rushed to shut off the burner but the alcohol had already caught. My hand lit up for a second and soft blue flames licked between my fingers like air rushing through. It felt cool and velvety then burned off quick and I saw flames spring up under the burners and across the surface of the stove. It was burning so hot that the flames looked like they were floating. For a moment I thought everything might explode. I thought, everything is going to go up in flames and eventually the gas line will light and blow up and there will be a giant hole in the side of the house smoking and the air will smell like flowers. Everything will smell like flowers and it'll be so peaceful. Maybe the blast will knock me unconscious and I'll wake up someone different but think that it was how I'd always been. Maybe I won't love the same things anymore and I'll love all of the things I detest and I'll be much nicer and sweeter, but instead, after water and towels, the fire was out and I stood dripping and shaking head to toe.

Tue, 07 Jul 2009 08:24:45 GMT

One time, someone told me about the static white noise coming through a transistor radio being an echo of the Big Bang. When I was little I used to turn walkie talkies on to static channels to listen to the little whispers of voices and pretend it was the voice of God. A few days ago, Lev told me about how some people think when you feel a chill up your spine it's because somewhere someone just walked over the spot you'll be buried at when you die. My 4th grade teacher told us that the chill was from a spirit passing through you.

I went to a cult meeting today. It was some sort of group that was based in buddhism. At the beginning everyone meditated in silence for an hour and I don't know if I fell asleep or stayed awake but I kept having weird images and little dreams and couldn't stop thinking about rabbits. Some of the people were really adoring to the spiritual leader and that was odd to me. Will I ever be like that to someone? Will I know? Am I now? At the very end we all chanted a bit in Pali and muttered the names of people we wanted to dedicate our prayer to. A woman behind me said "for all of the angry people". I tried to listen to see what the people sitting next to me said but I couldn't hear. I didn't say anyone's name but I'm not sure why.

I've been lovely lately. Truely, honestly.

"Probably the closest things to perfection are the huge absolutely empty holes that astronomers have recently discovered in space. If there's nothing there, how can anything go wrong?"

Richard Brautigan

Tue, 23 Jun 2009 21:35:13 GMT

Last night I dreamt about a girl with red hair and light seafoam green eyes with pupils that were Rorschach test ink blots. She didn't look familiar but the way I felt when our eyes were locked felt eerily familiar. She wanted us to be lovers and I was shy.

New clothing, crystals, and things posted in my jackaltails.etsy.com.

harmony festival tribal dance

Sun, 21 Jun 2009 02:16:53 GMT

these sorts of things feel loveliest inhaled but I know you hate those breaths the kind with more substance than air so I spare you that motion but regardless
these sorts of things must make their way into my system somehow so outside I take two in one swallow and inside one more between the shoulders and chests and spines that are twisting and stretching against mine and soon
soon my body is twisted and stretched in between it all too and we all pulse together like a giant heart pumping this odd energy through our flesh as if we're each other's veins and arteries all connected
by so much skin on skin on skin.
those little pills dissolve into my blood as love and now they're coursing through my organs and out my fingertips as bolts of lighting into every stranger I caress
and I'm charged by every other hand that strokes me back and I brush against so many that soon
I'm electric
and you're electric
and all of us lock eyes and electrify each other
and it makes us feel like we can see into each other's souls deep deep deep inside and soon we're not strangers anymore and we're less shallow than lovers now
now we're illusioned into soul mates and here we all finally are together and in love with each other the music is motion and the lights are motion and we're motion motion motion

Sat, 13 Jun 2009 08:10:00 GMT

little lupus what are we playing at are we really going along with this charade?
we're pretending we're both still wild animals but every day that passes makes us more and more domesticated (surely you've noticed) and you know you know you must know how I feel about being Domestic, don't you?
terrible things come from it terrible things come from all things that come from being Domestic just terrible things so we'll just have to avoid it, shall we not? neither of us want to be anyone's pet and I think we'd each like to imagine we want it even less than the other.
we can share our passion but we must both keep our pride and of course most importantly we must keep any lovely thoughts to ourselves as secrets and only think them out loud when we're in separate rooms.
once though you said something too lovely and I said something too lovely after you and now we never speak of the incident because acknowledging it would mean we weren't ouroboros anymore it would mean we were going somewhere.

but I found it soothing just the same, I'm afraid. did you did you did you?

you tease me about God and I tease you about Age but you still believe there's an Eye in the sky (don't you?) and I'm always sure I'll never grow any older (but I do). if we never go anywhere things will eventually break loose and if we go somewhere things will eventually crash, and then what?

will we shake hands?

Wed, 10 Jun 2009 01:56:14 GMT

Went to a Pre Burning Man Costume Party. I'd just fasted for 4 days and was so anxious about being around so many people that I popped 3 xanax in the bathroom. I finally had one drink, and after that I don't remember any more of the rest of the night besides crushing up another wellbutrin. I don't remember snorting it, I don't remember leaving the party, I don't remember the ride home. In the morning I woke up in my own bed and there was a message for me that just said "You took too many pills." I don't think I took too many pills. I don't think this is a problem.

I've been processing poppies into opium in my bedroom.