Hell yeah I support Nuclear Energy

I said it, it's clean efficient and a lot safer than you think. I also dig genetically modified crops. Have you guys tried super oranges (extra fiber and vitamin c)? Higher yield? C'mon? Wednesdays are my "power days." Senior seminar and ag class make me want to join the environmental ss. Either that or completely give up, because traditionalist, fundamentalist, right wingers are our oppinion leaders and legislators.

oh. I'm in a better mood today than I have been, well since this weekend. I heard lightning today and it got me all giddy about warm weather rain and spring. I hate getting into my tyrannical moods, but it feels oh so good when they break! I also finished a poem I'm really excited about. I feel a little more comfortable with the poetic machine. I thought about posting it on the new 347 blog, but I really think that the whole tone of that blog/class is kind of weird.

Reminder: March 3 or 6 is Sammy's birthday. March 20 is big sister's birthday (the big 30).

I'm terrible at remembering anything worth noting. Eech. So next week I will be almost completely indisposed with bull-shit projects that professors decided to dump on me right before spring break. Oh well. Spring break hurrah!

GRE word of the day:
solipsism: noun
a theory holding that the self can know nothing but its own modifications and that the self is the only existent thing; also : extreme egocentrism

Double Dose of Happy

Today, I feel like I want to be back in Korea. Badly.
Small children selling booze,

Sweet d.i.y. punk culture,

"Love Motels"

Gorgeous Temples,

Precious asian boys,



Okay that was my first and last photo blog. Damnit this weather needs to get better, and I need to stop worrying about everything so much. Worrying causes gout!

GRE word of the day:
Fusillade -
long burst of gunfire. (I promise I will never use that word in a sentence in my entire life)

Apprize - transitive verb
to value or appreciate

Writer with a capital W

This weekend was long, inspiring, nauseous, enlightening, disheartening, etc.
The drugs left me very tired and uncomfortably cramped. A small wager to pay for what could have been, and what pray tell have I ignited?
I can't go back, and I can't say that I'd want to, but can one understand the weight of their decision without a timely retrospective? For now I'll be giddy like a school girl and think heavy opaque later.

Went to IWU's Tongue & Ink undergrad writing conference with a wonderful friend.
It was a cold adventure.
I was exposed to some amazing poetry and creative energy. Conflicting though (but what knowledge isn’t?). One session touted the benefits of the MFA program and another touted the benefits of running as far away from the academy as creatively possible. What path then will I chose? Who the hell knows! I was moved more often than rendered bored, so I call that a success.

Kent Johnson, the keynote speaker for Saturday read an excerpt of The Night by Jaime Saenz. The man read this poem with an ethereal passion and a perfect Spanish accent (mind you he is quite academic anglo in appearance). All of a sudden Spanish, the language of my father, reels me in and knocks me over. It’s beauty and history and family all rolled into an exotic ball. Another call to brush up on my language skills.

Johnson also read a harrowing original poem about the ills of Abu Ghraib and the “war on terror.” You can read Lyric Poetry After Auschwitz, or: "Get the Hood Back On" here, but you won’t get the full effect of Kent’s fantastic (and spine tingling) voice. . This man is quite talented.

This weekend led me back to the question I constantly find myself pondering: Beyond entertainment, what is the validity of literature, poetry, et al? More specifically or rather a sub-question, is literature dead?
In today’s blog I summon the words of Syrian expatriate poet Adonis:

To save itself, poetry will need to progressively espouse the unknown eternal truths and refuse again and again to be regimented from the outside by any kind of ideology, system, or institution....[P]oetry will have to advance by exploring regions the invader cannot reach....[T]he traditional view of the poem cannot survive, it will have to be transformed in its very structure. Just as the traditional concept of poetry has already broadened to exceed the limits of traditional forms of speech, so, in order to resist the utilitarian goals which nearly strangled it this century, in order to escape ideology, the structure of poetic language will have to open itself to more movement, and move always toward a concept of the total poem.

With that stated Adonis brings up many points which force me to question my roles in consuming and creating poetry. How can I create a body of work that is relevant, meaningful, and progressive? I have a long (long long) way to go, but without the assurance and motivation I would never even start my journey. Or would I?

I’ve begun to take on the obscene task of preparation of the GREs so from now own this blog will include … a word of the day. Ew. Any tips on cracking the GRE?

For good measure, and to set a steady pattern we will start with two words! Lucky you!

garrulous: Function: adjective
Etymology: Latin garrulus, from garrire to chatter -- more at CARE
1 : given to prosy, rambling, or tedious loquacity : pointlessly or annoyingly talkative
2 : WORDY 1
synonym see TALKATIVE

heteronym:
Function: noun
: one of two or more homographs (as a bass voice and bass, a fish) that differ in pronunciation and meaning

P.S. I totally shouldn’t have had to look up heteronym!

Why are these glorious men no longer making music?

Plan "B"

The caprices of liquor sure have a way of expediting ... "things."

Today

I did a lot less work than I should have. Still haven't put my laundry away
,but I did nap in the sun like a kitten ... for three hours.
I sort of miss my phone. Really miss my best friends.
Wrote a little today, but it made me feel ugly.
I Just bid on two low-mesh silk screens.

I hope I win, at life and the auction.

xo

ADDENDUM:
I was outbid, in the last ten seconds. lkajds ;fads. damn. Now I'm going to try and put away laundry before I have to work till 2 am :( This has got to be karma. At least a good song just came on my iTunes...

Apocolyptic Notions

All of a sudden I'm feeling quite protective of the things I currently hold most dear. Protectiveness for the Last Unicorn comes in the form of insecurity. Rather than grasp I let go. Or (let's be honest) doubt my grasp, because I too have trouble letting go. I examine (because that's what I'm good at) why; a bleary conclusion points a cold and dry finger at the impending sense of doom that has recently pervaded my conciousness.

And I will always equate the changing of seasons with you
that man-child disappeared from my life. forever for good?
and how does she feel about that? (she being me)
A) like a glass menagerie
relieved, but fragile as such.

and with that I feel like I'm not learning anything that makes me think hard.
(just hardly, enough to send shivers, but best friend says you're not a pessismist)
I'm not. No, I see my cup full (maybe because I stole your's half empty).

I don't even need to practice primal rhythms with him*

It's hard to write with colors. I just have winter white said shades. pales and palers still. It's hard to not be blue when you've spent a winter and a year's time wallowing in the shadow of something else.

oh. that's it. something did end. I'm just spooked of all that's begining, because I know it too will probably end. But doesn't everything. I remember someone yelling to me from a pulpit: The Benefits of Life Everlasting. Well I rather like the cycles of death and re-birth. But this one seems extra long, because it was extra harsh. Figuratively, Meteorogically, Literally.

*and will this season be extra opposite of what came before? Seven day forecasts aren't that accurate. I find myself with a hole where you used to be. The damage is done, but my polar ice-caps are left intact (so there).

The spring is still cold. But I'm waking up. Grasping tighter, but not too tight. Reaching out but no too far. The snow is melting. Around my organs and beneath my feet.

Oh bother why must I type-complain
it
is
gonna
be
50
this
weekend.

(remember what I said happens when the mercury hits a farenheit 45? tehee)

THIS BLOG NEEDS MORE HUMOUR...

Fast As You Can

it is rather late and I should be studying for an 8 a.m. test.

but I can't help but wonder if this endeavor is far more narcissistic than I care to admit.
Been having much trouble focusing on writing prose as of late. Grrrr.
It's hard to focus on my priorities when a thousand other pin-pricks are stealing at my skin.

and you know what?
I just hope it feels this good for forever (or at least a good long while). I wanted to tell him that, but instead I just grabbed his hair and fell asleep. I do that.

tight mouthed and thin lipped, but I slumber with fireworks behind my eye lids.

Today I feel this and tomorrow I feel that and I'm right caught between two-thousand one hundred and seventy eight different ways to process my world; how do I know when to smile and when to shout? This is my home, but I don't know how to own it. And I'm not willing to take your help in the matter.

I think I might like your help.

Don't wanna be nar·cis·sis·tic. Synthesis, Catharsis, Practice, Practice, Strive for Perfection, Road map to discovery, Confessional, etc.

any thing but Narcissism.

Have fun

separating truth from fiction.

Damn it all, I had to watch, "An Inconvenient Truth" for my senior seminar class. Terrified me.
For the first time in my life, even though I really want kids, it would be horribly irresponsible of me to bring a life into a thoroughly decaying world. Hmm these discoveries are both disconcerting and elightening.

Overdose*

He said, "Baby the road just ain't what it used to be."

and I grabbed him,

"Honey, nuthin's the way it used to be."


* too many candy hearts.

split

person

alities.

Physical Manifestation of Emotion

I could be all schmoopy but I'll just say sometimes people come along that make you want to jump up on a chair and yell nice things to the people that pass by...


I'm in a really good mood today; Despite losing my phone, a mild cold, and the drifts of snow that are nearly as tall as me. Not because it's Valentine's day or because it's a half snow day, but because I got really great people in my life. Uh huh. Hooray.

Mamda & Papi, thanks for making sweet love and pro-creatin!

Now go hug someone or a tree or maybe your computer, and then go be wild like children.

i felt i was on fire, with the things i could have told you

Today,
I do believe I bombed my mathematics test this morning. I'm no good without words. Later on I sliced open my finger at work. One thin movement and a gush of crimson was revealed. The color was bright and fluent. I wanted to paint someone's walls with my bright bodily fluids. Perhaps to remind them of what life looks like. I bled and bled until my face turned white and my pores began leaking. "My you look like a ghost." (See, I told you I'm disappearing.)
Barely made it to the bathroom, sit down, breath breath heavy breathing. Mop the sweat from the brow. Still bleeding. Ahh yes now the ground don't look so absorbed and tingly.

moral: don't skip breakfast. don't cut fingers.

Inspired to read additional William Carlos William because of this:
(the red wheel-barrow pales in comparison to those white buns and his other works)

And Kamau Brathwaite taught me how to use language in defiance. I ain't no girl, Ima woman.

OH oh oh feeling springy today a bit (due to the blood letting?)

Excited to do a lot of things for a lot of reasons, but I'm also tired of mathematics and mass media. Makes me feel lethargic and un-inspired. GO AWAY.

Dear Barack Obama,
Save us from the young republicans. We can work on global warming together. But lord knows I'm not a brave enough woman to take those bastards on. And if we could just ease up on the drug war, I'd really dig that. Oh and I'm excited to hear about this "universal health care business," seeing as how I am a sickly character and I will be off the parents insurance in a matter of months. Well, I'm pulling for you, and I'm sure i'll see you around a lot more.

love and support,
The Last Unicorn

Someone told me that warm weather is a mere three weeks away ... I think I can I think I can.
But for a reminder and in case I disappear ...

FRECKLES!!! (i.e. sun spots) (i.e. happiness)

precious colors

and I hadn't realized how good I had gotten at hiding my feelings.

Some days I wish I had magic chalk like Ophelia in Pan's Labryinth so when I need to escape for a bit I can just draw a little door and skip out till I feel right again.

but slowly this fog is lifting. Despite the cold I can be happy once again.

*the boy makes me feel warm.

So I've decided that it is imperative for me to become fluent in espanol again, and for me to be much stricter with my diet. (not Diet as in "trimspa baby", but diet as in dietary needs)

Someone I look up to called me brilliant, and for some reason it just made me feel more confused about how little I know.

Un hace mucho mucho tiempo, Yo era una vez una princesa.

Don't ask me I don't give a damn ...

So now I'm sick. At least I'm getting to the point where my general distaste for everything has reached a comedic level. Also, oddly enough the people I'm most intimately acquainted with feel similar unrest and/or feelings of crazy.

I'm really terrified of global warming. We've really done it this time. It's quite scary to read a scientific report telling me that we've fucked around enough to cause a significant global change that can be seen in my life time. There's no way to stop global warming, we can just do our best to curb it. I need to really re-examine what kind of role I want to take as a consumer. What the hell can I do (I don't care if whatever I do won't make a significant impact, I don't want to be a part of destroying something I pretty much dig)? Shower less, recycle more, go vegan? Plant a victory garden??? Am I a strong enough of a person to make the comfort sacrifices I need to uphold my ideals? I feel like in the past three days I've been bombarded with everything that is ugly and terrifying in this world:

• War (costly, devastating and with no enemy)
• Unregulated Mass Media (thank you Toxic Sludge is Good for You!)
• Global Warming
• (Militant Child) Evangelical Christians ( unsettling , Jesus Camp)
• and shitty weather
  

I wonder if it's the weather or all this stuff that is making me feel sick?
Regardless I'm not in class and I should be. and sometimes I wish I could be one of those blissfully ignorant kids that just go on living their lives un-affected by all this garbage. I know I need to make some changes. I just hope I'm smart enough.

My love grows for you-tube ... my daddy gave me a tape of this song from Woodstock when I was eleven years old. (okay the F-U-C-K is a little silly) BUT I think this song is great! Where are all the people writing protest songs about the silly war on terror?

Caution

I don't know if it's the weather or the time of the year or me, but I feel discontent. It's most likely the combination of all three. This is what I want to do:

1. Wake up
   
2. grab flip flops
   
3. my new(old) dress (got it in st. louis @ The Future Antiques and it is a gem)
4. make a picnic
5. make a play-list
6. and play outside in the sun and green all day with the people that mean things to me. (NOT worrying about work or papers or static feelings)
   

I can't take this snow and cold. It's making me feel like a little nothing. I can't stay stuck indoors.

Can't Can't Can't

Instead of un-inspired I feel angry. Anxious. Over-protective of me. All of a sudden I wake up and feel like whatever I'm doing with whoever I'm doing it with is wrong. I woke up like this today, and instead of making me feel good or doing academic work I furrowed my brow and searched desperately till I found my comfort underwear.

*Too big day of the week pantaloons. A near relic from a middle school that barely existed. "Two Step Tuesday" on an uncomfortable wednesday. Instead of writing a paper I furiously cleaned my kitchen: counters, dishes, microwave, and trash. To be honest the two-step tuesday didn't comfort me much. Mostly, because the windows in my kitchen blinded me with too bright snow that yelled at me and told me that it didn't plan on melting for some time. Well the fucking ground hog called for an early spring.

and remember how healthy I look when it's warm and sunny? Neither do I.
Conscious and loathing of this feeling I can't seem to shake it in a few minutes.

I want to be back in my middle school skivvies, in my middle school years, with my middle school ideals, talking with my middle school best friend. Current best friend, but back then music and art and life was one big blur and we could dance in the living room and it didn't make us hipsters or time wasters or lazy hacks. Our ideas were so big they filled up the room, and if it wasn't warm we'd pretend hard enough that when we woke up our faces were sun-burned and a colony of freckles had taken up residence on our noses.

Somehow these things that people do to avoid feeling grown up make them seem even more grown up to me. And sometimes I just want to slink away from it. But to where, a time and place that only exists in my wrinkly brain? I miss my girls, and it's a shame that we're all spread out like missionaries. And see I'm sorry that I can't spread my good word this day.

Okay. Let's think positive. Let's think warm. Let's not let me destroy the good things I have because no matter what I say it's no routine and it's not yet wrong.

I'm like a plant. If I don't get sun-shine and sufficient amounts of water, I'll just shrivel up and die. And by shrivel up and die I mean hole myself up in my room and not talk to anyone. I'm even tempted to seek out Crazy MD, the one person who can exactly and recklessly understand this supreme feeling of anxious restlessness. But I won't. For the sake of you and I. I won't. But my skin is becoming translucent and I just hope I don't disappear.

This too shall pass ...

I just told the biggest lie.

@#*djh

I'm cold, and I've used up all the day-time minutes on my phone.

Boo-urns.

Also, I just clacked out three press-releases.

Blech. I'll stop complaining when I can wear flip-flops again.

###

shiver shiver shit burr shiver some more.

she reads to me

I'm so young.
I'm so young I can do anything.
Anytime.
Anywhere.

ha.

she reads with the passion of a 17th century valentine
or a natural disaster.

I love her. you should be jealous. really really.

Oh brother

Don't have much time. For this, that is, because everything else is coming and going right fast like a chicago street corner. Distributing poetry today, shit, kind of nervous. Silly me wants to impress professor mcsteamy (I'll just shrivel up and die if he doesn't just love my poetry). Not really, but kinda. In my in-between moments (I have so very few these days) I'm working hard on preparing a scathing commentary addressing a certain someone with a pessimistic half-life. You know who you are and I no longer care to address you in any real-time or direct setting. Your bitterness and negativity are somehow finding me on the other side of the world. I don't have room for bitterness and negativity at this junction, try me again this time next year? But your sordid comments have spurred me to develop a manifesto of sorts to clarify what this here blog is all about.

In other news I just love this. Please check it out, wether you appreciate "pussy" poetry or not; it's people doing their thing, because it's what is important to them. I admire that.

The last unicorn surprised herself today: I woke up and went to classes even though I was late, unshowered, and stuck in a half sleep state. To those who know me in real life, praise Jesus a miracle has ocurred. I'm out to prove myself to myself, and damn it if I'm not pretty convincing. It's too early to throw the victory party, but a little headway is encouraging. Despite the frost bitten bluster of late-winter (my least favorite season by far), I'm pretty damn content.

What wonders never cease.

I believe I've found my narrative thread for my 347's epic (ew. forty pages) poem. It will be titled "The Book of Nots." Too trite? Any ideas?

to you sir: Funny how we didn’t know what we were thinking until we both had thought it.