i can always come here. i always feel welcome. i built this place with my own two hands. it's my world, my pearl. i own the land. someday, when it's dead and gone i'll drill a hole through the middle and suck all the oil out and use it for something else.
i feel like i'm burning my own fat to make soap.
(is that the only way i'll get clean?)
i like that my template is retro. i write some of this shit on the subway--the trains rock an old vibe too, so it all fits. also, my cd man is ancient and scuffed.
my notebooks are filled with maps and equations.
back in the day i would have been writing hieroglyphics and making masks.
no scratch that. i'm a woman, so back in the day i would have been a piece of property with a kid on each tit, sucking me dry, while my mind floated in another universe
steeped in those dark oscillations...
making up stories
stories and people
people and stories
somethin to get me the fuck out of wherever i was.
raymi, write me back.
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