Quick sketch with pastel -Organixbitch

AHAHAHAHAHAHHA

They detonated the Mooninites!!! HAHAHAHAHAH!!! Stupid people!


http://cbs4boston.com/topstories/local_story_031135507.html

the entertainer

most brilliant trick of classic joke shop
moustached spectacles slide down
come to rest on my chin
"either way you look the fool" he says she says
"oh but you do amuse me" says the mouth behind the flicking fan
"oh but you do amuse me" says the mouth begind the bedsheet
smoke curls from noses and genitals
under and around lazy limbs
music box dancer
like old piano lessons
taps my temples
that dusty metronome
used to keep tempo for me

running out

It's early morning and my stomach is all in knots again. It feels acidic and generally unhappy, but this is something I am actually starting to get used to. I often feel like I am going to vomit. Should I complain? I weighed myself at the gym yesterday and found I have lost 12 pounds. Every rose has its thorn though, right? Or I guess in this case every thorn has its rose.

So I am dreading going to the place with the wonderful new technology (that never works), and the photocopiers that will become your appendage (as long as you enter your code!!! Or if they haven't run out of standard sized paper). The place with smiling kids (who are punching each other, leaving garbage on your floor, and never really doing any work). It's the place that I am spending most of my days at now, except when I come home it is not really home anymore. Home is like a side office of this institution. It's where I can do my office type work in my pajamas, and mourn about it because I would rather be doing something else. Even the dishes...

Home is the place where my love doesn't get any love from me. I bark out orders because things need to be done and I don't have time. I send him on errands for groceries because I can't afford a trip to town. He gets me rushing around trying to get things done, and being too tired when he strokes my hip or kisses me softly and passionately.

This is not my passion. This is not even close. I don't think that all of the money in the world is worth losing yourself.

I have been steadily losing myself since 2004. So when do I run out? When am I entirely gone?

I am feeling no passion. Just exhaustion.

artsies (from this year)

Hawksley-done in watercolour

Deafening -novel response in oil pastel

Jill Barber- acrylic

Maybe it is just beginniner's jitters, but I am starting to think that I am not really meant to be a teacher. It is scary to think that I am unable to be myself in this profession. Everything I do has to be an act because they would fire me if I did what I wanted to. I wonder if there is a profession that I can actually be myself.

I think it keeps happening to me. I have to pretend to be someone else in a job or a class and then I end up confused about identity and missing the old days. I haven't been able to act like myself in a group since I left Mount A. I think I get worn out with the acting...

I have developed a hate for the history textbook. It is useless and choppy....confusing even. UGH!!!

In other news, my thyroid is not functioning properly. The doctor says that will explain how I have been feeling tired and sluggish. I have to go back for more blood tests before he puts me on meds just in case they made a lab error.

I hate driving.

I hate people who don't signal.

I hate hearing children singing o canada off key on television.

I hate feeling ill from overdosing on water.

I am dicking around on the computer when I should be lesson planning.