resist
she her they
crossed at 2:30 am and 9:30 and 11:52
verbal sequitor
i see that there are concentration camps again
let’s cross the line hear sand under boots scratch
volunteer
crash and storm the perimeter and cutting wires on bare skin
blood and spit and that upstart
but why does it go this way
if you watch her walk, there’s a very slight limp when she puts weight on her left hip. it endears her to me. i watch. entranced. hips and full ass swinging left and right, forward. i love watching her walk. she is fantasy in motion. she is sleeping beauty awake and at last, here.
there is much, maybe too much – discernment about intimacy on my mind.
how to.
do it.
how to.
live peacefully.
is it possible.
I’m pretty surprised, yes, at certain new developments in the national community interested in Peer Supports. What came on hard and furious to nil communication startles me into a general quiet stupor around my US Teacher P2P model of adapting the Certified Peer Specialist certification into an on the ground Transition Age Youth model designed to provide for wrap around supports to both: educator and student.
I am reserving the right to comment on the grotesque business as usual sense of usury in place apparently and a general all-pervading desperation that is a deep seeded interest to improve systems of care environments in the field of Education.
I feel so loved right now.
“One angel to another… this place is hell…” (Padron Quip, 2019)
“I’d be good for nothing like Goodfernuthin Joe, too, I know… ain’t a woman just like that…” (Lena Horne, 1934)
I have been sick with Bronchitis. Shout out to my cool peeps at work who have been so great to and for me. I am pretty lucky.
Screwing the legs onto the painted panels making 1 table for someone pretty excited about it. Two layers of clear gloss polyurethane to protect the paint.
Got into a national conference to present a paper for 30 minutes and an hour workshop in Santa Fe this August that I am really looking forward to working on more, making them excellent to learn see hear.
Were it not for the struggle, I wonder if the end product would be as sweet.
Dear Diary,
You know, I can probably quote the entire monologue for Woody Allen’s immortal close with Leonard Bernstein’s “Rhapsody In Blue” rising to full pitch in the background in his masterpiece, Manhattan.
Chapter One
He was as tough and as rough as the city he loved. New York was his town and it always would be.
My geekiness is deeply rooted in Woody Allen self-deprecation films that I grew up with in a deeply impressionable period of my artistic development ;). I like Gershwin. I love Bernstein. Diane Keaton. Standards. Black and White. Trains. WW2 “he said dju, dju, not did jou…” antisemitic rants that cast a laugh and want for more. I love Woody Allen (1968-1996).
I’m going to write to Dear Diary and number each sequentially going forward (e.g., Tonight’s blog entry is simply: “Dear Diary 1.0”.
Tonight’s is simply thus:
Gender Fluidity, Male, Opposite, Other, honoring self-identified Pronouns (esp. They, Them, Their”, When your most recent ex begins dating again, Being sick alone in a house bereft of my lover week-days… that seep into longer week nights, and that my attempts to live in this house is deeply rooted in art + intention, thinking about Portland and Seattle tonight, writing, film, making
Reading List
