| comic relief |
[08 Nov 2009|09:40pm] |
from yahoo's mailer-daemon (and no, this is not a joke):
first: i'm not going to try again; this message has been in the queue too long.
then: i'm afraid i wasn't able to deliver your message to the following addresses. this is a permanent error; i've given up. sorry it didn't work out.
***
my dad, in translation:
"innulik - beata said that you said that you'd be home on monday. but then i said that you said that you'd be home today.
please clarify."
***
two conflicting personalities:
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[07 Nov 2009|09:38pm] |
apartment buildings are an endless source of fascination. everywhere i am, i feel the need to scrutinize living conditions - to wonder about every window; to imagine what it is to live there - not with the people; not in their lives... but in their space.. among their possessions....
***
sometimes the shock is accute - everything we couldn't do... all the time we didn't have...
the 'what if' returns on a wave of tears from every limb and organ..
there's a feeling i get
when i look to the west
and my spirit is crying
for leaving...
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[04 Nov 2009|09:00am] |
shots fired, beatings, another wave of arrests.. and my poor karoubi attacked by police
if they had the audacity to go that far, we can expect a warrant any day now
i don't know what to think..
my nerves are in a bit of shambles.. a 4am text confirmed that two were ok.. only to hear now that you spent three hours near death from worry for the others while i had nightmares of being attacked by basij on a rooftop
they were very young.. in their 20s.. and they were all girls. me and a few others beat them off the ledge with sticks or fired imaginary shots into their heads with our fingers shaped like pistols...
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[03 Nov 2009|11:43pm] |
poppies
sowed themselves among
the dahlias
each
grim petal
pinned to the shrunken
air with collected precision
a salience of limbs gropes
for an oblique mouth
to unearth the sour
breath of ages
a damning
stroke rhythmically shatters teeth
jerks the lips
into a vast corrosive howl
***
italicized is virginia woolf - to the lighthouse
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[03 Nov 2009|02:47pm] |
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terrible, north american (or terribly north american?) birthday cake..
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[03 Nov 2009|10:06am] |
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i'm of the opinion that money can buy nothing.. nothing meaningful.. everything we need is bought with the heart
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[02 Nov 2009|12:37am] |
finding it hard to close my eyes even though every part of my body is weak and rebellious.. seems as if we have yet another infection-like pain in the UT
but who cares about all this..
not only am i a professional trauma, i'm clearly not who i thought i was - nor who any of you think i am..
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| hey, that's no way to say good-bye... |
[31 Oct 2009|10:32pm] |
for a moment, my heart broke
for the absence
for the knowledge of your life
i love you for your tears..
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[30 Oct 2009|04:00pm] |
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i have books enough for many centuries.. they will be my husbands, wives and children..
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| an unfortunate series of events |
[30 Oct 2009|09:35am] |
my throat is suddenly reacting to the (expected but unnerving) rejection of the nuclear deal..
it itches with worry and .. well.. what i assume is bacteria
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[29 Oct 2009|10:57pm] |
for those of you who are not on my Reader: five minutes with meg barker
wonderful.... just.. absolutely
and please check the update on 25 Oct
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[28 Oct 2009|10:14pm] |
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"this is love: finish it while i'm here"
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[27 Oct 2009|10:16am] |
today, a series of reluctances -
... to open my eyes. to leave the bed. to leave the shower. to leave the warm, steamy bathroom. to leave home. to climb into the car. to leave it. to work. to get a coffee. to leave tim horton's. to just. keep. my. eyes. open
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| on occasion |
[26 Oct 2009|09:59pm] |
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our refrigerator often taps - as if someone is politely requesting to be set free
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[26 Oct 2009|02:11pm] |
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today we are useless and inadequate..
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| [dis]appearing acts - update |
[25 Oct 2009|11:25pm] |
i recommend saving and viewing in succession for the effect of "inna spontaneously appearing"
thanks to andrei for the pictures and the magic
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| a dream |
[24 Oct 2009|12:30pm] |
a middle-aged man recognizes a woman in an elevator - they had met at a conference some time before. they flirt.. she laughs.. she's not very good looking
in bed, with their clothes still on, the man steps down to get something and is immediately assaulted by his psychotic younger brother, who has been hiding underneath..
they leave the place together
at home, he is visibly younger.. he quietly but heatedly argues with his parents about calling the police. his brother is extremely unstable, he says.. it's only a matter of time before someone is killed - why not get him some help?
the mother responds: because he's your brother.. we cannot
***
there are now three sisters - i am one.
the oldest kidnaps the youngest, taking her on an airplane that has a good possibility of crashing. i'm worried out of my mind, in tears..
my father now suggests that something has to be done; that we need to call the police.
i tell him no, she's my sister. you don't understand. you can't. you're an only child.
in the end, the youngest returns unharmed and the oldest, who should be dead, or missing, is standing near us in a large hat.. a kind of disguise, to protect her from our parents
the last scene is an imprint like a photograph - the tallest, the smallest, and the middle.. each of us a little frightened, a little nervous and infinitely far away..
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[23 Oct 2009|10:27pm] |
tonight toronto is awash in dense, violent mist..
a furious wall of wind and water; a gentle rage...
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[22 Oct 2009|12:46pm] |
oh my god, it was the young russian who was speeding..
i feel sick.
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