Damnsle Inthis-Dress

poety, rants, and self-loathing self-acceptance...what could be more fun difficult annoying ridiculous outrageous?

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Location: NW OH

Je pense, donc je doute. Je suis. Je pense.

Friday, December 23, 2005

Seasons Greetings

Dude, I just took a pill, and I don't know what it was supposed to do, but it like totally made one of my legs look bigger than the other:

right side -BIG
left side - small
right side - BIG
left side - small
right side - BIhey! where'd my right leg go?

I don't think that was supposed to happen. fuck. Now I have to grow another leg. That shit hurts, man. I should probably go drink. Merry fucking Christmas, you heathens.

Sunday, December 18, 2005

I Can

I can ache with despondency:
my limbs can hang from me
as dead weights pulling me down.
I can be immobile with tears:
they can course over my face
etching tracks into my skin.
I can reach for you continuously:
My fingers can stretch out to the sky
pulling back with naught but My dreams.
I can laugh and rollick and ignore the pain:
my life can spread out before me like a lover
begging to be taken.
I can raise myself up.
I can raise myself up:
I can raise myself up
as the burning stars that consume themselves in glory.

Because it's not finished yet.

Sunday, December 11, 2005

My love/hate relationship with the Science Channel

i feel myself slamming
and out:

the galaxy will explode one day
you won’t be attractive unless you buy *this*
comets are careening all around us
what am I going to wear tomorrow?
The universe is imploding
i really have to clean the house
string theory!
rent is due!
cosmic wide-view lens!
every day minutiae.

back and forth
to and fro
all minute long...

how am i supposed to know
what to focus on
when the universe won’t stand still
and let me think?

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

A Book to Read:

I just finished reading "A Million Little Pieces" by James Frey. My sister lent it to me, since there was still time before it was due back at the library. She loved it. I hated it, and I must own it. I cried more during the two days it took to read that damn book than I have cried in the past five years. Not because the author's experiences were horrifying (which they were), but because they reminded me of things that I've forgotten - and the fact that I shouldn't have forgotten them. I never went through anything like what Mr. Frey went through, not even remotely, but I've detoxed before (thank god I never actually puked up bits of organs) and I've lived the emotions he describes and it just reminded me of all the pain and sorrow and so I cried and cried. And while I don't believe in everything he does, I agree with him about AA and 12 Step programs: they are all bullshit. Addiction is a choice we make, and if we make bad choices we stay addicted and if we make good choices we don't and we can't blame it on anyone else. I came to that conclusion years ago when I refused to believe what they were trying to tell me: that I would forever and always be fucked up, but it wasn't my fault, I was just pathetic and weak. Plus the fact that AA and all 12 Step programs are just religion, no matter what bullshit they spout about being non-denominational and non-religious, and all religions are just about keeping (usually) old white men in power, and making sure the rabble stay in their place by keeping as many people as scared and ignorant as they can. I detest the restriction of knowledge as I detest emotional manipulation as a means of control; as I detest anyone telling me what I can and cannot do. So I will buy Mr. Frey's book so that I can keep remembering my anger and my resolve and my reasons, and so that I have a catalyst that will help me to cry when I need to. I almost never cry, and I don't think that is actually a good thing anymore.

Saturday, December 03, 2005

OK, here are the lyrics - somebody write music for them, quick! The poor things are suffering from lack of substance. Have a heart...

This isn’t what I signed up for
when I agreed to come.
I expected to be here
and to endure this life,
but I didn’t know...

I knew there would be sadness
but not this soul crushing grief.
I knew there would be joy
but not that it would be so brief.

I don’t know that I can endure
all that has been shown this long night;
I don’t know that I even want to try
because it’s now so hard to remember the light.

Oh lord, I wasn’t told
how I would cry –
I wasn’t warned
that I would want to die


Oh shine your light
down on me.
Give me hope
that we will be;
that in the end
it’s all worth
the pain and death
that comes from birth.

I knew I’d suffer
for what I’ve done.
I knew that in the end
my time would come.

But I didn’t know
to what extremes
the fates and gods would go
to make me scream.

Oh pour your love
down on me.
Let me know
that we will be;
That in the end
this is all worth
the pain and death
that’s due from birth.

I see the sun
and it causes pain.
I feel your heat,
but it’s not the same.

I knew you when
you were unknown.
I loved you then
and that love has only grown.

You were supposed to be my hero;
You were supposed to be the one.
But now I know you’re human;
Now I know what we’ve both done.

Send your faith
down to me.
Make me know
what we can be.
And that in the end
it is all of worth –
the pain and death
just brings new birth.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Oh, I had such a bad day at work...

that you really can't blame me for drinking a day early. White wine and dark chocolate...is there anything more stimulating without nudity? The feel of the chocolate melting into velvet and rose petals on my tongue, then feeling the cider bite of the wine slide through my mouth, mixing into sensuous aromas and gliding down my eagerly, greedily swallowing throat. The after taste is like a long forgotten love remembered in vague dreams during bad times; bittersweet and light only because of the deep darkness. God, I love.


She pisses me off
because I think she settled for less;
Then I see what she actually has
and it’s better than the rest.

She is strong and loving,
and yet still manages to be weak.
She holds everything together,
makes everyone march to her beat.

She is so obnoxious,
so incredibly vain.
Yet so humble and modest;
so unrelievedly sane.

Her eyes gaze at one clear,
her smile is open and full.
Even when she’s crazy;
even when she’s a fool.

She’s free,
She’s locked,
She’s nowhere to be found:

She is mine forever,
She is never to be owned,
She is always around.

She is the one that keeps me as me
Sarah knows who she is
And Sarah only knows what we’ll be...