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23 July 2017

memory notebooks

Looking over old journals this morning. It's strange to think how I wrote them with the idea of "an audience" in my mind. Everything is so restricted. So performative. I was so held back.

It's sad because I'll never get those high school notebooks back. I'll never get those days back & I can't remember what I was really like. A journal should be a record of that but I was so concerned with performing. I was so obsessed with self-censorship. Whatever I was then has evolved away & there's no record of it. She's lost to the years.

It renews my dedication to be honest in my current notebooks. A diary is a record yes, but it's also something of a self-portrait. Of course we can't be totally objective when it comes to our selves, but I think trying to keep an accurate outline at least is beneficial. Maybe it's how we learn not to lie to ourselves?

17 July 2017

12 July 2017

movements

A post shared by N (@natalie_raymond) on

los angeles stretches out like bones under taut skin.
no one was made here
we all came
to be born or
die.

06 July 2017

5 min free write

"Sun beans on sandy hills the heat like potatoes boiling in rusty pots. California rises up like Lazarus reborn into desert, birthed through cloudless skies.

I wake up in my bed in Hollywood, fan circulated breeze slipping around me like olive oil separating from water.

The dream I had made my palms damp & clammy, but the memory dissolved with the last of my sleep.

A tuesday like any other, I'm waiting to bank on the pavement. Waiting for deliverance from the stale heat."

02 July 2017

documenting mess












thinking about spaces, & where we make. 
the clutter, the grime, feels like home. 
how else can I fit everything in?

28 June 2017




from my poem a day project: yesterday's poem, day 127.

thinking about what being able to get the healthcare you need means/feels like. & why it's hard to dig out our healthcare traumas to try to beg other people not to strip us of that access, limited as it already is. seeing all these people on twitter talking about how they or their children would be dead without the ACA is so upsetting to me. we shouldn't have to relive our traumas for public consumption to be deemed worthy of a basic human right. & it's made even worse by the fact that the people who would take what small steps toward healthcare we have away from us don't care about our suffering.

22 June 2017

roach

”But there it is, the neutral roach, without a name for pain or for love.”

“For I was exaulting. I was coming to know the violence of the happy dark — I was happy as a demon, hell is my maximum.”

“Oh God, I was feeling baptized by the world. I had put a roach’s matter into my mouth, and finally performed the tiniest act.”

“Through the living roach I am coming to understand that I too am whatever is alive.”

“That was when the cockroach began to emerge.”

“The cockroach is pure seduction.”

+++

nearly done with my first chapbook, the memoir of a cockroach. I have plans for this little lovely when done. currently: seeking an epigraph from the astonishing book The Passion According to G.H. by Clarice Lispector (the source of all the above quotes), which I highly recommend.