Spiders, Moths and Bullies

there are too many fucking spiders!!! spiders inside, spiders outside, spiders in the basement looking bored, spiders marching across the kitchen counter boldly, spiders on the ceiling in the bathroom, spiders shimmeying up the corner of my bedroom wall, spiders on the porch watching me smoke, spiders hanging around my bicycle and making homes on the wheel-spokes. spiders organizing huge protests outside local colleges, spiders doing door-to-door cookie sales, spiders demanding i subscribe to TV Guide, spiders making rude comments when i am getting undressed. spiders doing aerobics on television, spiders suing other spiders in wrongful death cases, spiders in BMW's playing golf, spiders getting boob jobs and tummy tucks, spiders on syndicated comedies, spiders getting married, spiders getting divorced, spiders criticizing my taste in clothing. spiders harassing me because i'm ugly, spiders bumming cigarettes, spiders hinting toward casual sex....


and goddammit, why can't i look like julie delpy? can i at least have a torso transplant? that would clear up a lot of problems.


i just tasted Spam for the very first time in my 27 years. it was Spam Lite, actually. it was just as horrible as i imagined it would be, if not more so. i think i'd rather stick my arm in the garbage disposal next time. i crack myself up.

you're not going to BELIEVE this...! i just killed another spider!!! it was sprinting up the side of my bureau! it was little and brown and probably reading this over my shoulder, god the motherfucker was asking for it. it's not like we're dirty people or anything.

how dare these spiders. i bet julie delpy doesn't have spider problems, even when she goes to Rangoon some famous spider hangouts. julie delpy has teeny tiny arms. men probably have no idea what to say to her.

they always know what to say to me. my formidable nose and conspiringly ridiculous breasts serve as inital barriers, but to no avail.
"How short are you?"
"You look like a really nervous person."
"Wow, you smile a lot!"
"Have you ever just done anything...impulsive?"

i'll stop there. it could get worse. it won't. not now, not anymore. men have said nice things to me too, like "you are a beautiful person inside and outside," but then they never call again, so what's the jig?

ok. i don't care. let them. let them take a look and spin their webs, i'm not even going that way, i'm not into the flycatcher mentality. i can't speak for butterflies, and i always feel sorry for the lightning bugs, illuminating their distress signal.

i'm just a Moth Girl. i'm made of dust, and i prefer night-blindness, and i'm stupid, and i eat holes in your clothes, but i have no hidden agenda, and i don't crawl. i'm a ghost. i'm ordinary. i'm kind of peculiar, spastic, ugly. harmless, but i get in the way. i'm blind, i'm stupid, i'll never shine, but i can surprise you.

i don't know how i got here, to this point, to my declaration of Mothdom or the mild nausea or sweating or anything. i need to sleep somehow.

i asked my friend tonight how long it took her to get over getting beaten by a guy. she said, "i'll let you know." i guess it's more like you just...replace the sensation, scrounge for comfort. i know some ppl like to "speak out!!" about it. i'm not thrilled that anyone even knows about it. no one ever knew what to say. i just never thought i'd be the one at work with the black eye. i can't believe i had to run away again. i hated it there, true, but he made it that much more of a dead world.

i don't miss him. thinking of him makes me feel sick to my stomach, like these pills. the fact that he lives on, that he's seen other girls, that knows he'll never have what i gave. i can't remember the happy times. i can't fathom why i stayed, why i came back. there was nothing wrong with my Love. there is nothing wrong with my ability, my capacity to love. my arms are empty and my heart is...my heart isn't.

and purgatorio is peopled with moths, who can't quite see but can feel everything.