my favourite song to play while painting

FIONA APPLE

I'm gonna make a mistake
I'm gonna do it on purpose
I'm gonna waste my time
'Cause I'm full as a tick
And I'm scratching at the surface
And what I find is mine

And when the day is done, and I look back
And the fact is I had fun, fumbling around
All the advice I shunned,
and I ran
Where they told me not to run,
but I sure
Had fun, so

I'm gonna f*** it up again
I'm gonna do another detour
Unpave my path
And if you wanna make sense
Whatcha looking at me for?
I'm no good at math

And when I find my way back,
The fact is I just may stay,
or I may not

I've acquired quite a taste
For a wellmade mistake
I wanna mistake
why can't I make a mistake?
I'm always doing what I think I should
Almost always doing everybody good

Why

Do I wanna do right, of course but
Do I really wanna feel I'm forced to
Answer you, hell no

I've acquired quite a taste
For a wellmade mistake,
I wanna
Make a mistake, why can't I make a mistake

I'm always doing what I think I should
Almost always doing everybody good
Why



i want to be kissed
but when given the opportunity, i have not...

what...
who am i waiting for?

benji

i've known benji for years.
i've always had a deep affection for benji.

he's a wide open loving person.

he speaks without thinking...

last night, i spent the night first in a bar and than, at a house.
we played cards.

i only played one hand and poorly.
benji was my partner.

then, he and i retired to the couch to watch tv.
he turned the station to soft porn.
i knit.
we cuddled... a little.
sat close to each other

benji loves porn.
i think he always has.

we touched a little more and more through the night,
discreet touching.
slight brushes of the hand.

i wanted to touch his entire body...

i want to kiss him.




i've known him since we were children.
i am older than him.



he invited me into his house.
i wanted the invitation...
but i declined.
i played the hand poorly.



a few hours later, i wish i were curled in benji's arms
yet, grateful i am not

because i'm not sure how to reconcile our past & the newness of wanting to touch him.

cyber neighborhood

blogging... an odd and yet, somehow very natural activity.

journalling always assumes a reader
even if that reader is the future version of the author.


my journal is not very well travelled. (my profile has very few 'hits.')
i am solipsistic
random
obsessed with love, at times
obsessed with the purely sensual, at other


i am neither consistant nor eloquent.

i wonder what a random reader might think of me
i wonder if i know you...


watching the news the other day,
i saw that the man who killed the pretty little 10 yr old girl...
had a blog
a small piece of blogger
a blogspot
a cyber neighbor

i don't think his blog has ever blinked its words across my screen.
i wonder if his blog was well traveled.

(note added a little later...
it looks like a lot of people read his blog, an odd collection of articles.)








i end this entry with a prayer for the family of that lovely little girl.



*when i was a young girl,
an evil man kidnapped me.
i am grateful to be alive.

kissing your neck

we went on a date, julian & i.

a basement bar
alternative country
hank williams lyrics thrashing against drums, keyboard,
and bass

(my choice of his alias would be transparent if you knew me
or him... or where i write this.)

he was shy
and nervous
.....................and as far as i could tell, not that 'into me.'
we hugged good bye.
i wanted to kiss him.
i was shy.
unsure.


there's a short list of boys in this world whom i wish to kiss.
kissing is more important to me than sex.
sex is messy.
kissing is simple.
kissing is sensual...

kissing is alpha and omega.

without kissing, sex is crude.

i wrote a little note to rothko today.
i wish that i had kissed him...
but there was never the right time or moment.
a regret that hovers in the air like morning mist.
yet, i have the bittersweet joy of that longing
made sweeter by its delicious impossibility.

a kiss
such a powerful moment of communication.