Posted on | May 27, 2014 | 2 Comments
Have you had a terrific weekend of remembering? I have. Aside from fighting some underlying depression, I have lots to remember that is good.
I’ve reached a point in life where the good is outweighing the bad. That’s what I always wanted. And I’m grateful. I hope nothing comes along to destroy it.
Monsters…Meteors…other M words.
I guess I should just tell you the big news–what I’ve been waiting for since I began the journey of solving my mystery on June 1, 2010—–I got a new altar!
I’ve been waiting for this very patiently because….I knew that once I got a new alter(?)….I would be done with that leg of the journey. i would be on a new journey, no longer the mystery journey.
I have the past in the proper centipede position–trailing behind–not whipping around like a live wire in front of my eyes.
I’ve been on my own for 4 years, with a few nice visits from old, resurrected altars. It was a difficult way to be. Almost like a recession of personality rather than economy. But in order to solve the mystery I had to get rid of all clones and face the mind-ghetto alone.
My new alter is a guy, which is surprising, scary & exciting. I had to put the kibosh on guy altars after Ed (the Ariel Castro of alters) nearly destroyed me. I decided it wasn’t safe to have guys inside judging me. And it really wasn’t.
But, I will say–this guy’s different. Delightfully different. And that is all I will say because I know when I share/ discuss this stuff I provide fodder for giggling & gossiping. I’m not afraid of that, but I do want to enjoy my personal happiness in peace.
[I don't mind being the fool, the spectacle,
The bad example. I hope it really keeps you from
feeling what I've felt
If you can learn something from my anger & scars
But don't judge. Thank.
It was violence encoded on my soul
That brought you that production
Violence and lies
So don't just laugh & lip sync & tarragon
Don't be so thankless
I don't have cankles
Or an STD
Or irritable bowel syndrome
Or a gender dysphoric child
I learn about all that stuff from you
The slanderous insult I've been called all my life?
Now I will look through
A mirror that reflects a masculine
Now I'm sitting on this side of the fence and all the grass is jaded jealous olive emerald sage.]
Maladies, Monstrosities and other M things…oh yeah…Memories!
I had to give up my daily Memory game. I love memories, don’t get me wrong…but a year is a long time. I know my history good & well now. And so do you Attention-spaniel Witness-angel Donkey-asses. I love you for it & will do something more creative with the rest of my memories.
It is hard every morning to go through all 27 or so May 27′s I have stored in my head library!
It can be fun. It can be the opposite of fun. It can be embarrassing. Painful. Hilarious. It has been quite a project. but I’m over it.
And I know some of you are still doubting Ricardos. You still think I’m plucking through my old girly diaries that say: Dear Diary Today I saw so & so, and I kissed so & so, and I had sex with whoozie-whatsit.
I don’t have any of those diaries. I have plenty of Vogon poetry journals and LOTS of psychic fashion notebooks, but no daily girly octopus pages. PERIOD.
[Oh please, don't ask what a psychic fashion notebook is. I can't answer that in today's blog]
Because, Guess what–I have so many Vogon poems for you today! Please try to enjoy them, and if you can’t enjoy them at least struggle through them & try to find some meaning.
When I say I've "gotten" alot out of LIFE
I mean *meaning*
Materials are great,
but meaning is worth 7 billion dollars and 63 cents.]
You toss or flip
Your eye contact is
Your son may kill you
But I’m friends with Jesus on facebook
Your daughter may
Be kidnapped by the baby sitter
But I’ve been abducted by
While eight-legged scientists
Your wife may be dead
Or in the asylum
But I’m about to clone
Something that hasn’t
I’m about to get out
My No2 pencil.
I flipped a copper coin
Worth more than one cent
And it caused you to lose
One of your senses
(You didn’t get to choose)
It made your eyelashes
You felt the need to pluck
All the rest of the hairs from
You couldn’t stand the
And to be honest
Neither could I
You look much better now.
I would never do that–
Get out my pencil
It’s a trick I use to make people
For I have no muscles
Or other hulking characteristics
To make people back away &
I need you to back away
My shirt is ripping
But it’s slutty not menacing
Scarred up tits
Won’t put you in the hospital
Though once in a pink moon
They’ll put you in the grave.
You walked in
So radiant in your pink hoodie
And I knew you were
Who was on the ship with me
The One who gave me the coins
The One who distracted the spiders
You were there when Jesus
Let me wear his crown for 24-hours
You were there when
My buttons were pushed
and rending thread
And you knew
There, that’s all the Vogon poetry you get today. I know you want more & there is more & it’s Vogon. But I’m tired, and a bit sad about all this shooting & hate & hormone fluctuation that has gone on this weekend.
But when I feel better, I’ll be back with the rest of your poems. And I will have more art/watercolors for you in June.
P.S. I hope you loved the new ‘Adventure in Reality.’ It’s getting harder to write ‘Adventures.’ I always wonder–”have I already used this noun as a verb before?” and “Is this weird sentence in my head because I read it in Pynchon’s book, or someone else’s book?” That’s the drawback to reading so much–everyone else’s words are in your head & you have to remember which words have been strung together before by someone else…Anyway…the last couple ‘Adventures’ have been quite EPICal — I’d like to remember how to write shorter ones…but it may be awhile…