what am i doing. well. i am teaching halloween songs to first graders. then what am i doing. well. i am having them listen to scary classical music and draw pictures about it. they are drawing horrifying crayoned images of vampires, witches and monsters with gory teeth and pointy heads. i have them sit still on the carpet. i say, give me your attention.
yours, amanda L. at 12:45:00 PM [+]
we spray painted our clothes and pulled on layer upon layer, evrim leaping around corners shrieking and practicing, we piled into the car in a heap and drove fast, through the night, through the gate, muna as a bumblebee with a walkie talkie, our pockets filled with sugared candy, my heart is completely fucked, running running running, cold then hot then cold.
i went home and switched on the heaters and waited for them to work and became real sad. oh. nothing is right, right? nothing is right.
yours, amanda L. at 12:29:00 PM [+]
in a fevered state. look. i just want to hold hands with somebody and walk around our city.
they burned their fields and buildings, poisoned their own water supplies
this is a computer-supervised recording
what are your resources?
the hospital where they fix the robots looks like a regular hospital but the doctors talk like automechanics; the hallways you walk through from the terminal to the airplane, i have no idea where i am, i walked into our room, the windows are flung open, the plants on the balcony, and its empty except for a tiny radio someone has left on---
smiling, hands held behind back, with arrows through heart
in the churches: all the saints, reaching for each other, hands on arms, fingers to lips, whispering into each other's ears, communication. depiction is communication. it is a message. people rising up into the air. Teorema and the maid who was so full of passion that she rose up into the sky.
4. i want to feel things
you've stopped somewhere with sun and distant piano practice. you walked down and then up and now your body is exhausted. you don't know what your are doing and have only a vague idea what you are looking for. if you lay down and go to sleep, turn to page 89. if you decide to keep looking for some impossible inner solace, turn to page 13.
looking down at the river and there are all these geese and cats, napping togther. the geese are bigger than the cats.
jewelryboxes with ballerinas inside. ballet in general. ballet and airports, soviet-era ballerinas travelling to capitalist countries to perform, fluffy 80's coats and dark eyeliner on dark dark eyes, in the airport with duffle bags followed by bodyguards who were there to prevent them from "escaping" communism. my six year olds perception of cold war = the USSR was a cold country, with snow. and then the olympics that year in korea, ?is korea a cold country, it must have been because i had a pair of those mittens that would change pictures in the cold air with the olympic creature on them. in 1984? i wish i still lived with my parents just to lay my head next to the stereo speakers on the floor of the livingroom, drawing pictures and listening to carmen.
"----and all disease is only love transformed."
richmond and i saw lightning bolt last night. lightning bolt settles my blood.
1. taking things further
yours, amanda L. at 1:50:00 PM [+]
i went to new york last weekend. its seems silly to update now, but i want you to go hear the archive of rory's radio show. \\yesterday was rory's birthday and he is 26 like me now and if he'd only send me his full ny address, he'd get cookies and stylish shirts.
last night at the wives show, the drummer played so fast and it totally destroyed me and when a kid shoved me in the back i turned around and pushed him hard as i could i did not care that he had a microphone, !don't shove me, there were only twelve people in the room so its unecessary, later when we walked across the city looking at all the orange lit buildings and sudden spring time temperatures, an alledged dance party, girls fighting at the church with red boxing gloves from a yard sale. i spoke to My Biggest Weakness and did not throw up with fear afterwards, i broke bottles, i did not drink alcohol and felt everything like a billion needles. like a person that feels things. EVERY INCREDIBLE INCREDIBILITY.
earlier i sat on the sidewalk with my skirts on a table and talked to everyone who has a nice bicycle and all people that wear each other's clothes. but i'm terrfied of you.
yours, amanda L. at 6:23:00 PM [+]
This is a picture of me at the New York Aquarium! I was really depressed during this time, so I'm crying in this picture! Fortunately for me, a giant octopus lived at the aquarium and gave me a leather jacket! The octopus knew that if I had a leather jacket I would no longer be a victim!
this band is playing in richmond november 18.
yours, amanda L. at 6:06:00 PM [+]
my car smells cancerous inside and sweet and exhausted. it makes a loud rumble when i drive it. the change in temperature is giving andrew and i new dreams, long ones. extensive ones; those of us that crowded into nina's parlor to knit and make homemade knitting needles which we rubbed with cooking oil and decorated the stops with little clay sculptures and cooked the whole lot together and from the cooking they smelled like popcorn; i found a new part of a familiar street near my house that i like; going back to the french books, do you want to pretend that we are in another city? that means: drinking wine going for walks and talking, with our breath freezing the air and the stars bright oh
yours, amanda L. at 9:58:00 PM [+]
At the Jacinto house there is an easy chair to die in. When people get old, one day they invite them to sit in the easy chair, which is a chair like any other but with a little silver star in the middle of the back. The invites person sighs, moves his hand a little as though he would like to hold the invitation at a distance, and then he goes and sits down in the chair and dies.
The boys, mischievous as always, amuse themselves in their mother's absence by playing tricks on visitors, and they invite them to sit in the chair. As the visitors are well informed but know they must not talk about that, they look at the boys in great confusion and excuse themselves with words that are never used to talk to boys, which of course the boys find extremely hilarious. At the end the visitors avail themselves of any pretext to avoid sitting down, but later the boys' mother find out what they've been up to and there are terrible beatings around bedtime. Not at all put off by this, every once in a while they succeed in tricking some innocent visitor and they have him in the chair. In these cases the parents cover up for them since they are afraid that the neighbors will discover the properties of the chair and will come over to ask
yours, amanda L. at 9:46:00 PM [+]
the substitute computer called me up and the job was for chandler middle school in good old supernorthside, and instead of the usual voice intoning SPECIAL INSTRUCTIONS NONE there was this sad and quiet and miserable message from mr. carl linnen explaining to the universe to any substitute that listens why he cannot come back to work and it was strange, sad; i wouldve taken the job if i hadnt already known i hate those brats in his classroom
i cant work tomorrow, i have to sew, and by that i mean i want to sew. and i want to figure shit out.
yours, amanda L. at 2:05:00 AM [+]
balloons all over the floor and out the window, into the trees. a smashed up lamp on the sidewalk by the front door. i don't have my keys again. that outkast song. the edges of oregon hill, and the benches where everyone in the city goes to cry. the idiot and some other books. sewing skirts, broken bicycle, rearrangement, autumn in poland and cafes in spain, miserably staring, open and close the windows, its been a week; you need to write me and then we will have a dialogue.
yours, amanda L. at 1:30:00 PM [+]
eatin food not bombs with marche in the park yesterday, talking about boys that ride bikes; at the library she set me up with that friendster stuff oh god its all over for me isnt it?
so i gave in, i guess. saying yes to all things.
yours, amanda L. at 1:51:00 PM [+]
i think ryan m. changed the astro password! for his birthday, i guess. or maybe its just not working. ryan's not that much of a brat, is he? thats so shitty.
makes one rethink all that one has been rethinking.
yours, amanda L. at 12:33:00 PM [+]
visit lovely richmond virginia, in the autumn, and all things
1. bonfire parties on belle isle
2. potluck dinners at the QP; shirts that say RVA IMC
3. movies in the dark in the early morning
4. destination:void frank herbert
5. knowing names, going to houses
6. dancing and destroying and hitting the ground hard
7. walker allen
8. that outkast song
9. i need a new bicycle AND WILL YOU HELP ME?
yours, amanda L. at 5:36:00 PM [+]
on taking it back to where we come from
the possessed. i feel possessed. thought i would have to go looking for books at the store, then found a bagful i had grabbed from my parents' house, a gold mine of watership down and scarlet letter and camus and choose-your-own-adventures about dragons.
Stepan: Good day, my dear Liputin, good day. Forgive my emotion...I am hated....Yes, I am literally hated. But I don't care! Your wife is not with you?
Liputin: No. Wives must stay at home and fear God.
yours, amanda L. at 5:05:00 PM [+]
anda gail lewis 2005. stop crying every day.