the stonehenge affect.

new scars, cat scratches white 3 across my thigh. sicilian past lovers, eh? food so good i eat slowly savoring never slow enough. cobwebs in ice showers every 3, 4 days. clearing a dry throat in your orange and yellow bed. wanting to, seeing inspiration from you to go and do what i've always wanted, trusting like a child in the past record of the universe.
feeling love, warmth, you coming on my pubic hair and it sticking all together. the orgasm i had when we fucked how incredibly attracted to and jealous of you i am. i dont want to be another girl on your travels, like all the others in my own special way but i dont wanna be naive (and stupid) and think i am going to change your path or that i want to follow you on yours around the world. how you inspire me in a way that brings me back to the feeling i get when looking at your fotos.
the stonehenge affect.
earth moving. i felt it, the earth move, me changing history, when i cheated on jason.

horsemeathead.

the dream is a vision. a man in a black suit standing within two feet of me. i see him only from the waist up. his head is a horse head but stripped nearly clean, exposing fresh shining dark dark red meat. i can see the ribs. it is beautiful and i feel good.

(my current fascination with my own blood and eating horse for the first time)

one of the first days. w.elia.

i would stay in bed all day until a need drives me out. to eat create kiss. dare. sarebbo contenta a viaggare con te. certo sarebbe. penso forse ora non riesco immaginare una cosa piu' bella. e' meglio a scrivere i miei sogni o devo sempre dimenticare le cose brute?
voglio mangiare una torta di mela. voglio dare le mia cose via al piu' presto posibile. to give things up is often such a freeing feeling. i think its ok to give up anything if at the parting you can feel more free. like a boy, and art even, and naturally all those clothes i got hangin out in my huge suitcase.

sono arrivata.

non ha fatto freddo quando sono arrivata qua a milano. just to camminare in quest'appartamento meta' distrutto mi fa sentire diverso, essattamente lo stesso sentimento come sono arrivata sul un'altra pianeta. per questi a mi sembri lontano lontano e il mio cuore sente strano, un po' come fossei solo un sogno d'un anno fa'. so che era due, tre giorni fa' pero sembra in tanto di piu'.
che divertente nelle mie stelle: siete (Ariete) un segno di fuoco, impazienti e un pocchino egoiste, avete bisogno dei stimoli sempre nuovi.

incubo d'un fantasmo/maiale.

mi sveglio d'un incubo faccendo il suono d'un porco.


lo stavo faccendo ad un fantasmo con gli occhi bianchi chi mi stava guardando nella mia faccia.


i was in a house i had made a sign for and placed on the front yard, something about 'if you want to see this house, we are interested in it and we can show you.'
it was a house cosi' (drawing of 3 story 2 window wide highrise apt complex) and red brick.
i woke up in bed with dario and couldn't move, could feel my body being pulled up towards the top of the bed, over my pillow. i thought my body was being consumed by ghosts and i half awoke to think it. i tried hard to move but couldnt
some other stuff, scary stuff happened
but the next i remember is me trying to slap dario awake and say we gotta go dario,
this isnt our house but he wouldnt wake
and finally he did but said
'i would but there is a groundhog staring standing at the foot of my bed'
but he really said 'grandpa' though i tried to make a joke out of it because i was so scared.
dario was smiling
i could sense his teeth in the dark and then i felt them with my fingers
and it scared me even more
i thought he was possessed.
i bit his nose hard but afraid to draw blood and attract the sharklike demon energy but he laughed and said 'they bit it off so many times i had to have it sewn back on' speaking back on what was about to happen.
i tried to get out of bed and was face in face with 'the grandpa,' a bald man of 35 or so with eyes and head covered in white makeup. i snorted at him to scare and mock him and awoke like a pig, wanting to wake dario.

makeupburns.

tears runnin down fresh clean makeup face.

chemical burns.

dont cry for me you selfish one. just let me let me go.

happy new year.

sitting with
a need for change.
only this time i have already changed almost everything around me and the best i can do is listen.

dreams. ghost.

ascending stairs at the reynold's building which is much more grandiose than the actual.
i run into a boy as he walks in the door. he vaguely resembles tim wilburn but only in stature. we talk and he tells me his name
we shake hands.
he tells me the answers to my questions.
then comes a couple of girls and he is lost in the confusion.
they tell me
he was a ghost.
i end up outside and i am trying to return, to find him
to remember what his name was and what he had said to me.
i find it odd that i shook his hand even though he was a ghost.
i end up in a huge room that resembles a lighthouse room but ginormous. canyon sized.

there are stairs leading in every imaginable direction and stopping in the middle of nowhere.
i am climbing them, maybe with some of my family.

i hear a dog barking there is shuffling the room fills with churning freezing sea water greygreen and envelops the stairs which writhe and rise from the water with me holding on for dear life, just before descending to crash into the sea.

i awake. my sister's dog is barking.