coleo = shield + ptera = wing

I gave birth to a beetle, uhh, I'd say, 2 feet long, cylinder shaped, iridescent black, almost all thorax, with just a little head, lots of legs, on his back (how sweet, it's a boy!) like in Kafka. I was watching a movie that had no point, while my new born child squirmed around in his bassinet. What to do, what to do?
It would be a hard life growing up with an exoskeleton. I couldn't cradle him. What does a beetle baby eat? Here's what I did. I took off his head. Inside of him was filled with yellow yoke-like fluid. I drank it hoping it would somehow enter my womb and develop into a little person with the same essence as the repulsive bug.

According to the online dream guide beetles indicate: some destructive influences may be at work in your waking life. You may also feel that your values and beliefs are being compromised.
Alcohol signifies (I was drunk): feelings of inadequacy and regrets. You harbor fears of being discovered for who you really are. Alcohol may serve as a way for you to escape or an excuse for something you did.
Movies mean: you are watching life pass you by. Consider how the movie parallels to situations in your waking life. Observe how the characters relate to you and how they may represent an aspect of yourself.

Lanolin

Wool fat. WOOL FAT. Wool fat. Wolf hat? Wolf hat.
Neti pot. Net-tea-pot. Net-tea-pot.
Wool fat. Neti pot. Wolf hat.

Silver Apples

Last night I opened my window and let a cumulonimbus in. The tropical air collided with the polar air, droplets of water turned into a white fluffy gas, and now there is a localized storm watch at 7 Home, the basement.

I figure that this front, when it hits the jet stream from the laundry room, is just going to take off and we’ll have a super cell above the ironing board. You can forecast a storm by the behaviours of the animals and the bugs. The spider on my ceiling looked like an astronaut in training for zero gravity, going, at my calculations, 100 spins per minute. Until I stopped her with a life-brand tissue.

I’ve weather proofed my rug, by covering it with all my clothes, and I’ve weather proofed my school work, by tucking it away under everything else. And I am weighted down, so don’t worry.

Hot curry love

Above: Spruce cone picking slowly. I'm sorry that it's boring too. It has nothing to do with hot curry love either.

Lynn is my middle name.

Tonight we didn't stay up 'till today to wish Jeff Goldblum hbd. But if we did we would have reminisced about that one part in Jurassic park when he touches the lady's hand to demonstrate something about chaos and his voice gets quiet and tender but then the lady runs out to check out the dinosaur that's moaning on the ground. Droppings, he stutters, dino droppings?

Jeff Goldblum, Sarah Ayton, and I are all Dragons in the Chinese zodiac. Tell me that doesn't mean something (and everything).

Kidding?

I was the one near the apricot bin

You were the blond at the Jay Reatard show. We ran into each other on Nassau walking dogs. You are a beautiful Asian girl wearing boots. I like the way you loop your "l's" in your anti-liberal graffiti. You're just like me, with torn knee jeans. You had Nutella in your hands. I like Nutella, I could like you. Your back was towards me at the chiropractor's office. I was behind you in line to vote. You, the one wearing your shirt inside out. You rushed off the train, probably to work on your exquisite biceps. I think you swallowed my lip ring. I saw you (leggy, well-dressed) reading a yellow book about Hezbollah- I just wanted to say: life is short, let's paint together.

Cox (of Rahn), Kane, Dent & Shen, feat. Robinson.

I am thankful for the rash that developed overnight on my right cheek. My mother loves to spot the redness; ever since I was a kid who got eczema she's been right on it. There's some! With excited worry, prodding at my face. She sighs like it's real bad, and shows me sympathy I didn't know I needed. She'll look at me sometimes like this girl could be so pretty if only she brushed her hair, didn't get rashes on her right cheek, and shaved her mustache.

It's why eyesight gets worse when you get older; a blessing for daughters like me with moms and grandmas like mine.

Here I've gone and done it though. My Mom will say "I do not." She'll be all sorry and embarrassed and she needn't be. Because I know she only stares at my blemishes because she cares. And I know that when the light from the kitchen window pours in behind my head and soft focuses her gaze, she will remember that I am her most beautiful flesh and blood daughter.

50% off Notions

Fabricland in the mall is closing. So if there was ever a good time to indulge and tie dye, now would be it. I have these images of pillow shams, underpants, handkerchiefs and t-shirts coloured with swirls of rose of paris and reindeer beige and these images are cosmic and alluring. I want to flush white with creme and bordeaux, # 16 Arabian Night and #21 Elephant Grey.

Sapiens sapiens.

Shit shit.

You too eh?

Ever can’t sleep? Just want a little cigar? Wish for a gin gin mule to go with it? Suddenly you feel like jogging, getting sweaty, then cutting off the other half of your hair. Yeah? Ever feel like going North or South, wherever? Or do you want to go pee in the backyard when there is a perfectly fine toilet inside? Sometimes maybe you don’t want to put on pants on a Monday. Sometimes maybe you want to share with someone the way 100% acrylic makes your body smell. Do you give that stare- the steady eye-roll- to the people who you suspect agree with your foul thoughts? Do you throw your meowing cat? Do you will your drunk roommate to burst through your door and worm into your bed at 2 a.m?

I understand.

Guh

Someone went to the bathroom the other day mid-lecture, came back, asked me, "Did I miss anything important?"
I answered no, not at all, but I wished she had. But no, nothing important, not at all. I was taking notes in the library today. I have a midterm coming up. My notes read: Seth= God of Darkness/ Hippo= Destructive
Maybe I need to remember that.
And I quote a professor of mine when I say, unenthusiastically, "So that's the latest on Nefertiti." The vocabulary I'm learning to use sounds like "Guh" and means the feeling in the pit of my stomach.

School is important. And I understand why. But I'm lacking proof.

My papa would have said, and I often now say, "Twenty years from now it won't make a damn bit of difference." My want is that it would.