fables of the reconstruction

whew, i thought this thing had died...the link didn't work all day yesterday. just goes to show how everything is so temporary.
the internet is even more of a "vapour" than the ghostliness of tangible things.

i'm having a bleeding-soul day. now's about the time when most people will have several beers, or smoke a joint, or deal with it in a socially acceptable way. all i'll say is, when i started this blog shit, i was really alone, and inside i still pretty much am.

i'm thinking about dark things, dark faces from the past. i could write myself out of those worlds, but now they're here, still, nibbling on the corners of the sun-blasted days...waving cautionary, spindly fingers at new friendships. telling me what a melodramatic bitch i am. that no matter what cool bands i've discovered or what people i've met, that i'll always be that nobody, drooling and snotting on the rug, crying for her mother when you kick her.

i know i have PTSD (on top of everything else). i'm not sure what to do about it, other than this. i don't want a million e-friends to post comments like, "ooo, we're SO here for you" and stuff, that's not why i've ever written this shit.

i'm guessing that PTSD, in and of itself, is the physical presence of tragedy and/or violence in your cells. anyone who's ever lost anyone close knows that. anyone who's been in a war. anyone who raises their hands in front of their face too quickly, or is "tactile defensive."

i guess this is when most people take up tae kwan do, or learn how to master something outrageously complicated and physically exhilerating, like windsurfing or skydiving. people "take back their lives" every day. huh.

Gravyboat Sails On...

...and on, and on.

i can't believe how time has passed since i started this blog-voyage, where it took me, and how much i've grown (or shrunk, depending on how you look at it).

not entirely sure how to "update" this archive. i've been blogging on myspace for a time, although i'm a bit censoring/political in my approach therein (one can cross-reference www.myspace.com/sizzlean).

no matter how ashamed i've felt when reflecting on some of the past posts in here, i won't delete them, at least not right now. they're not written in stone, just some sort of algorithm that the Big Machine has already digested anyway, whether they're deleted or not. one can't undo existence; emotions come and go like the Eight Winds. i try to meditate on the feeling of being a boulder in a field somewhere.

i've been in california for a few weeks shy of one year. i've made many new friends, and try to stay in touch with the old ones that matter. my mother can't really walk anymore. my relationship is definitely not champagne and roses, but is certainly not Mad Dog and poison ivy either. i'm a better artist, certainly having more of a body of work, but only making minimal money...but hey, it's $24 more than i made before.

some theme songs for my current...being: (i should make an album, ha)

"Both Sides Now" by Joni Mitchell
"Lunatic Fringe" by Tom Cochrane/Red Rider
"Long Long Way to Go" by Phil Collins
"You Know You're Right" by Nirvana
"In the Lost and Found" by Elliot Smith
"I Saw the Light" by Todd Rundgren
"Burden in My Hand" by Soundgarden
"Perfect Circle" by R.E.M.

to name a few, for now.

this feels better. this feels more like home, not trying to edit myself for a carnival of assholes. funny how i used to be so private. i still am, mostly. i still feel like i'm living in someone's experiment, or somebody's weird-ass B-movie screen play.

i'm still a bit wiggy from last night...i went to Faces, an ultra-hip gay bar. this place is basically Club MTV; absolutely pungent with sex, like a heady tropical vinegar. i kept expecting madonna to show up and then things would fall into place, as it would just be a living madonna video and everyone her back-up dancers. i have no libido these days though (probably a defense mechanism, i'm sure), so my hips wouldn't really move to the music, and the long island iced tea didn't quite touch my social anxiety. i had fun with nicole though. one thing-- the bathroom was truly scarey. i used to feel comfort in knowing that i didn't have to use the godforsaken mens' room, and that "ladies" were surely more civilized...ha! i will leave it at that.

*shrug*

motown philly back again...!

my vacation in Kaliphornia.

shoping list:

1. bullet-pruf vest
2. likkor
3. red red lipstik
4. seven veils
5. peen8t butter and K-Y jelly sandwitches
6. boyfriend-snatchin' net
7. book on hypnosiss (for hypnotizin' Theo to give me The"O")
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once upon a time, this dude decided to come visit me. see, he liked what i had to say, and i thought, well, why not? there really aren't many people out there that really listen to what i have to say. i mean, there's this blog and all but who the hell even reads it? i mean, WHO? little did i know, man....but that's not for a little while yet.

anyway, he came. i mean, what, 3,000 miles, by train?? to see me..! nice, right? ego boost, huh? you could say that. you can say whatever you damn well want, but i'd never met anyone so honest, forthright, and lovely in the entire world. and when i say "lovely," i don't mean pretty-boy stab-you-in-the-back kinda "i'm gorgeous and you're my prop" lovely. i mean, like...well, would you even understand? dear readers? my friend here was someone i'd been looking to meet for a while now...kind of like someone familar and brand-new simultaneously.

we hid out in my basement. we wrote and drew and painted and told stories and wrote some more, and the days started to turn into something where hours were stains on old temple walls somewhere else.

sorry if i'm getting a little too flowery here. it's sacred to me. so was this blog.

the day came when he was going to have to go back. i needed an excuse to get away from my mother of course, but was not about to use this man (let us call him what he'd like to be called?) for that. of course i wanted adventure, i wanted romance, i wanted action and everything else they make in that celluloid land out there, out here...oh, nuts! i just had to go.

one hitch: yah, we all have a past. sometimes its pretty freaky for some of us (myself included)...think of the scariest vampire movie/novel you've ever seen/read....think of the most scarey, dead-est un-dead beast that...that...bleats until it blots out the roar of the sun with its suffering temper-tantrum. yeah, that one. ok, that's mean. but he has this ex-girlfriend who posted a friendly letter on my blog, asking for some east-coast dirt and telling me how un-terrible i am. who is the deceiver?

anyway, i came here expecting little. well, that's not entirely true. i expected to have an awesome fucking time with this guy who, just days before, was my "net" buddy, and is somehow now my...greatest care in the world. laugh at me, c'mon. he's it.

i see this town. i'm pretty culture-shocked. i meet some people. i see palm trees and experience temperate, non-humid days. it's a dream i never thought i had the courage to explore. i am agoraphobia, i am xenophobia, i am wanting to hang out. i wasn't even ready for a relationship. i'm still sorta not. it just happened.

there's a few more things: (a) i'm crazy. (b) my mother is manipulative and wants her fair share of things. (c) my friend tony passed away today. (d) because of the news of tony's death, i had to call shawn the prawn, who is probably maintaining a constant state of blotto.

so here i am in this park, ducks storming me. i'm sitting there next to this guy and i'm starting to shut down, and he hasn't left my side. in fact, he's saying, "jamie, come over here, sit with me, lay down, look at the sky." he's holding my hand and telling me he's there for me, and i know he is not full of shit. i recall how i told him the night before that i thought of him as my definition of a "man," being that he is not afraid to confront truth, he is willing to admit mistakes, he is brilliant and intelligent and clever, mature and childlike at the same time, respectable, respecting, respectful of women and beautiful.

i started talking in non-sentences, started being snotty, and he told me he'd take a little walk. i watched him dissappear behind the trees that i couldn't name (and still can't, they're just pointy) and talked a little bit to tony, remembered how it felt to give him a hug, remembered how his flannel shirts smelled, and remembered how he always said, "eh, you'll meet a nice guy someday, don't you worry. shawn doesn't know what he's missin." so i said, "look tony, there he is. you'd like him," as theo tried to nimbly dodge a posse of ducks.

so then, have a good night, wherever you are, whichever plane you reside in, my friends. i am a bit nervous about my future. this is far from an ideal situation. i didn't come here to hurt anyone, to "score," to move in on someone else's property....people aren't property, duhh....and people who think that way deserve to be done in jail with a metal broom-handle in every orifice possible. (i dated one too.) gawd.

i wish tony was alive and happy and healthy. i wish i never had to talk to shawn or my mom. i really wish this carly-individual would find her bliss and leave theo the fuck alone, and furthermore stop making death threats against people and throwing fucking temper tantrums. grow the fuck up!!! you can't just freak out on people! there are some pretty nasty, violent people out there who don't have a conscience and won't think twice about doing WHATEVER it takes to get you to just shut the hell up. stop pissing in everyone's cheerios, ok???

as for everyone else, i'm just here. whether i'm Public Enemy #1 or just some girl who makes TJ feel like a million...*shrug* i hate this catty bullshit. people break up. my parents did. guhhh. how dare i...how dare i want to be happy, to be near the person who i think it could really, really work with. my little american dream. you believe in america? did you vote for your little piece of the rock???? life and the pursuit of hap-hap-happiness? live and let live?? do unto others as.....yadda yadda yadda?

so, i'll let platitudes be platitudes.

Alex says: WTF is platitude? Hm... At any rate, it sounds nice and carly, that's just plain mean.

Some Updates for the latest DSM

today in Nut Class we learned about phobias and other neuroses. here are some little-known ones i think are pretty important in our current world:

palmalivophobia: fear of clean dishes.

zoorophobia: fear of U2.

sucrofun-ophobia: fear of Fun Dipps or Pixie stix.

disenfranchosis: intense sweating, palpitations and skin rash when confronted with GOP politics. may also include diarrhea and welfare.

generalized affixitosis syndrome: sexual arousal brought on by Scotch Tape and other popular adhesives.

perpetual residual unspecified bettycrockeriasis (PRUB): trauma induced by intense wanting (and never having received) an Easy Bake Oven as a child.

hydrofelaromitism: preoccuaption with sniffing wet cats. common in veteranarians.

granular groin syndrome: possessing a constant sand-wad in yr bathing suit.

cleaval aerosuspention disorder: wearers of push-up bra's.

frigid syrupeanutitus: trauma induced by intense wanting (and never having received) a Snoopy Sno-Cone Machine as a child.

snuffleuffophobia: fear of large, hairy quasi-mastodon creature on popular children's television show.

rectovisual verbatim-adnauseam syndrome: disorder in which the individual, in addition to observing posteriors of others, is compelled to repeatedly report his/her findings on the subject in question, i.e. "Did you see the ass on her??" [see also boobovisual-]

-----> related disorders: see rampant violence-response commentosis satiation: subject (often female) grows tired of her recto-/boobovisual verbatim adnauseam partner and reacts, quite often in the public arena, by pouring a drink on him, bitch-slapping him, or simply cowering in the obscurity of self-loathing and inadequacy.
often these victims will later employ kickassicistic menengrageme tactics. the key to
rehabilitation is empowerment and often lookimagoddess-hooyeh tribalism with others
of similar gender, or the "I Rock, You Rock, We Rock" school of transactional analysis. recovery is variable but is almost certain!! :)

see? if only these things were in the DSM, psychiatric professionals would have a lot less work to do!

ok, time to snort some lines.

turn out dee light

interesting what a dedicated blogger i've become in the past 48 or so hours...i guess it's nerves. huh. i always consider the fact that i could simply type shit out for myself and print it out, hard copy, but that really isn't as much fun. this is gratuitous, this is my little corner of the world, yo (la tengo). i remember this story we read in 3rd grade or so about this poor little inner-city kid who decides to make a "corner" for himself his family's apartment. i remember he had a little step-stool thing, and a plant, and he even got a fish. it was a sweet story. sometimes i miss elementary school so, so much....and i guess this is why people decide to have kids. why relive it when you can live it vicariously, having already had the experience under your belt? who among us doesn't wish we could go back and tell the bullies, "you know, i don't really give a shit what you think of my [fill in blank], because in 15 years it's not going to matter."

in 15 years. in 20 years. 20 years ago i was in third grade. we had just moved into our new house. we could afford things. my father managed to buy a different car every year. my father is in ohio with 2 children who are 22 and 26(?) years younger than me. he always liked kids, never teenagers, never teenage girls. this way he'll be in a home before my half-sis turns 14, so all she will know is that he loved her.

i really don't complain like this all the time. this is my catharsis-time, my personal automated therapy. *scratches head*

it's fucking 4:30am. i have terrible beach boys songs stuck in my head from the princeton radio station. "be here in the morning, be here in the evening...." *shudder* they must've been on some pretty good dope out there. granted they also played some really obscure rolling stones that i'd never heard, it was really bluesy, i loved it. also enjoyed the kinks that the dude played too. i like college radio-- it seems like the dj's usually just sit there and enjoy the sound of their own voices, or admire their brilliant taste in music, or just cough a lot. i should really go to bed. well, i should have a cigarette and go to bed.

theo update: (pictures a little dotted line moving slowly across the country like in cartoons): he called from denver about 4 hours ago...i guess he'll get to chicago tomorrow afternoonish. i can't believe he is doing this, still. i thought the 5-hr plane ride was bad...geez...

meanwhile i've been decorating my dresser. i only got 2 out of 5 drawers done, not to mention the top and sides. i have to buy a lot more mod podge, or some kind of spray-finish. the top one is painted eggplant (shock!) with a scarab jewel on it and some bendy wire things...and the second is a collage of b&w pics with a gray-green background and black border. it actually looks pretty good...i guess i just got in the mood. it helped a lot with things.

well, got some poems together for tomorrow. hope i can stay for a little while. i'm talking to myself. i'm sleep-typing. i need a puff, need to feed that monkey up my ass.

my mother is now in the hospital, overnight. theo is still on his way, as far as i know. these events are enough to make a non-bipolar have some pretty vicious mood swings, no?

there's not much else, just moods, emotions as follows:

hopefulness, exhaustion, anticipation, rampant horniness, shattered disappointment, zombie-like apathy, annoyance. (this is just the morning.) then, resentment, fear, pity, self-pity, brief elation, self-pity, brief elation, exhileration. and more of the same. totally that germanic rollercoaster thing at Busch Gardens, i tell you. after having drank several beers from the local, adjoining brewery. (i might as well start a brochure for the place...)

elation, despair, elation, despair, despair, longing, yearning, numb, numb, passion, guilt, numb!

at least the numbness allows for relaxation and some daydreaming, which may or may not lead to the hope/elation again. i think i'll put down "Naked Lunch" this evening and leaf thru a Spin magazine. (this is the first magazine i have purchased in about 8 years.)

worlds go "boom"

he left yesterday, for here. this still seems very surreal. (then again, i am a self-designated surrealist..) the numb, physical, gray world is about to be crashed into by the one inside the cathodes. i hope i'm all i'm cracked up to be...ha!!

i don't even know what to think or how to think anymore. lack of sleep does that, i guess. i'm trying to prepare for this visit though, or at least look prepared. i got a manicure and even got my eyebrows waxed. as always i got yelled at by the manicurist for picking my cuticles. its so weird and unnatural to have people "service" me this way. it gives me that prize-pig feeling.

anyway, in all this anticipation, everything is so amazingly mundane. my mother's chief problem now is her stomach; i hope she got a little sleep and isn't dehydrated. i wonder if she'll go to her massage today. her nose is healing well-- the scrapes are virtually gone. oh, and she got her wheelchair finally..!

tomorrow i'm bringing in my poems to show to dan; maybe i'll be able to join his writing group/team/enclave/whatever they call themselves. meanwhile his extremely tiny and blond girlfriend asked me if i was d.j.'s "girlfriend" on monday. i was a bit infuriated and said "no, where'd you get this idea?" and she said he'd been telling ppl thus. i felt like calling him but i realized that's exactly what he wants me to do. god, leave me the f. alone! that place is like high school sometimes. other times its like a geriatric care facility, all of us milling around in a medicated stupor. anyway, it would be wicked to meet some other bp writers and work with them. if i'm good enough, that is.

well, if i had one wish, it would be to be stable, stable...can't go wrong there...


our love is no other
than me alone
for me all day...

--Live, "All Over You"

Blog Name Changed to "Breadcrumbs, Boulders and Bitching."

warning: may contain gratuitous bitterness, bad language, peanuts, corn nuts, lice, soybeans, masturbation, and the agony of defeat.

suddenly my veins are rivers of shit. suddenly its 3:25am. suddenly i am feeling way to sorry for myself.

gradually i realize i'm tired. gradually i understand i have pms.

progressively i notice i have no money. ever. always. eternally. forever and forever, amein.

instantaneously i am developing a headache.

morosely i realize that i am writing to myself and always will. the headache moves to the back of my head, smacks me upside the head, tells me that that's not true, dipshit.

annoyed, i recall previous phonecall with fuckstick from the past. out for my best interest...? dear friend? yeah, ok. i'd rather have a stranger give me some advice. could it be possible that someone would want to travel more than 5 minutes (on foot) to see me? why, it must definitely be suspect and desperate. eat my ass. i wish he would just leave me the hell alone.

noting my bitterness, self-destructive urges, pain, selfish thoughts, immaturity. moving on.

remembering i bought a copy of "Naked Lunch." recalling the drawing i did today (its posted on www.thexis.deviantart.com , shameless promotional plug, yeah yeah yeah, moving on).

watching the blue parakeet eat seeds.

feeling like the scene in "the wall" where pink shaves his entire body.

i'm not worthy. i'm not worthy. bang head with fist. recall lyrics from weezer's "hashpipe."

i'm super-subliminal. woooooo.

at least i can say that i'm not stupid, even if i am just a you-know-what.

i can't believe how many people i've alienated.

it's not always my fault.


i'm a creep. i'm too bitter. i make myself sick, and i'll make you sick too.

thank god its friday.