posted on March 24, 2004 @ 6:40 pm
i ordered crazy xian propaganda. before shipping it was $6.90, so i have that much right to criticize them. the pictures are also links, so you can read the tracts and sew a few panels of the comic. there's also a link to a big, readable picture of the poster on its site. it's so awesome.
the other night i had a nightmare that i couldn't kill tyra banks. i had an axe, and i kept cutting her head off, but when i'd turn back to her she'd be intact again. you could see the lines through her neck, layers where i'd cut each time higher and higher. i was at one house fighting her, and when i thought i'd gotten her a supervisor told me to go to another house to settle the registers there. i travelled to my own house, where tyra stood on the porch. i took my axe and sliced directly through her head vertically (through all this, she never bled, there was just this white stuff when i cut her head in half) and ran inside to settle the register. normally nightmares happen at my grandparents' house, so i'm not sure why this occured in longview. i gathered some things with which to run away, debated over actually settling the register in the kitchen (ultimately i decided to just face the concequences of not doing it), and ran out the front door. tyra sat, whole, on the bench and a cop who resembled chief wiggum in build leaned against a pillar. tyra smirked as the cop took me away, and i hated that i didn't sneak out the back.
yesterday for whatever reason, probably looking at a cat, i paused behind my bedroom door. my attention turned to leaves in the floor, then the floor itself, where just last month my very favorite person and i were lying with arms and legs in the air, staring at the ceiling.
"after a while it feels like you're attached to the ceiling."
":pause, laugh: no, it doesn't."
my eyebrows furrowed as i pushed away a lonely feeling and continued onto the vanity.
these past few days i've been pretending i don't live in that townhouse. i've envisioned all my possessions and my kitties in my hopefully future loft in north austin. in the late afternoon i'm sitting on the futon playing some video game, he opens the door, for no reason i say, "wiggity wiggity whack!" and he sits and plays with me.
normally this doesn't really make me feel bad or anything. one would think it should, but it's just something to occupy my thoughts as i'm falling asleep or struggling through a commercial break or sitting in the kitchen floor hunting with tima [i shoot food across the floor and she catches it] waiting for water to boil. it hasn't overly bothered me until a while ago.
my camera's plug broke, so it's been dead for a while. i was paranoid about something happening to my camera and the pictures being lost, so a couple weeks ago i transferred all the pictures currently on it onto this computer. and as i saved the pictures in this entry onto the computer so i could upload them into my webspace (i don't think i can straight from the site), i saw the little folder named "owen," and miniscule little preview pictures of us and our hands.
it's much easier to just push anything away and pretend that issue isn't there as long as you can't see it.
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