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Missed Time

by Ha Jin

My notebook has remained blank for months thanks to the light you shower around me. I have no use for my pen, which lies languorously without grief.

Nothing is better than to live a storyless life that needs no writing for meaning — when I am gone, let others say they lost a happy man, though no one can tell how happy I was.

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dream diary

tried to watch life aquatic with Roy. *sigh* we have almost nothing in common.

i dreamt i had a friend. it was night then day (reality reverse). we were in college and worked together. i was telling her about my thought that the ultimate sword of damocles is empathy, but she didn't get it. then i felt my mind was being invaded while i slept, so i left her.

next thing i know, the old blue...laser? i used to drive was in the scene, along with bicycles and a warehouse job...shuttling back and forth. my legs grew tired of bicycles and the girl reappeared. i wanted to shake her. i caught a tiny, cute frog and she kept dropping it. then we were late.

i got so mad about the frog because she was riding the handlebars so i had to maintain control with both hands to keep her from falling off. a bunch of other cyclists crowded in and we missed our turnoff twice. the road narrowed and the crowd blocked traffic. i was pissed the fuck off. my frog was gone, this cunt was bitching and gossiping, and i couldn't brake fast enough or get past the crowd of asshole cunt cyclists.

so used her body to push another one off her bike, speed up (to an insane degree because the bikes were already well over 40 mph). i hoped the black bitch died, along with the white bitch who killed my frog in traffic and tried to get me fired even though i was protecting her dumb ass.

there was a dream in-between those, but i can't remember the order. i was sick of the cycling altogether and launched off the seat into the air near a sand lot. there were huge hills and stamps in the ground from alien spacecraft. i used the drafts off slopes to amp up my speed until i passed over the cassowary farm with electric fences.

that landed me safely in the ratty defunct gas station with the old redhead lady and her puppies and cats. this time, there were baby tigers too. i went through them all one by one, looking for a female kitten to bring home. it took a long time and some old guy wouldn't let me take the older gray. i found a brindle/tabby mix eventually. it was so small and warm.

i think the kitten turned into the frog, but i can't really say for sure.

i sleep better when nyx sleeps on me.

i'm so fucking cold and my entire left leg hurts from my hip to my ankle. i could kill his goddamn dog. fucking dogs. but i'm too empathetic to hate it, which is annoying. that goddamn dog pisses and shits everywhere all the time and roy pretends she's housebroken and that he is an excellent dog trainer.

i just stay in my room most of the time.

i'm such a bitch. no one's anywhere near perfect, which is perfection.

i don't think anyone is capable of understanding another person. it seems like men don't even try...which is something i utterly fail to grasp. why?

why? why? why?

stupid shit. i don't care. how do i not care without becoming a callous asshole (man)? i really despise women who are dicks...and dicks who are pussies.

lol. it has nothing to do with trans people.

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Those cubs will die without their mother.

fracture by Ellen Bass

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“I once told my wife I was going out to buy an envelope: “Oh,” she said, "well, you're not a poor man. You know, why don't you go online and buy a hundred envelopes and put them in the closet?” And so I pretended not to hear her. And went out to get an envelope because I have a hell of a good time in the process of buying one envelope. I meet a lot of people. And see some great looking babies. And a fire engine goes by. And I give them the thumbs up. And I'll ask a woman what kind of dog that is. And, and I don't know. The moral of the story is - we're here on Earth to fart around. And, of course, the computers will do us out of that. And what the computer people don't realise, or they don't care, is we're dancing animals. You know, we love to move around. And it's like we're not supposed to dance at all anymore. Let's all get up and move around a bit right now...or at least dance.

Kurt Vonnegut

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Groaning to Himself as the professionally dressed evangelists rounded the corner, the Lord God Almighty reportedly locked the gates of heaven Tuesday after spotting Mormon missionaries milling around outside. “Maybe if we turn off all the lights and pretend no one’s here we can get rid of them,” said the Creator of the Universe, rapidly motioning to nearby angels to stop playing their harps until the coast was clear. “Ugh, this is the last thing I need right now.  Full Story

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My cartoon for this week’s Guardian Books.

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Wholesome Wednesday Vibes

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Lone females retreated to isolated nesting boxes on penthouse levels. Other males, a group Calhoun termed “the beautiful ones,” never sought sex and never fought—they just ate, slept, and groomed, wrapped in narcissistic introspection. Elsewhere, cannibalism, and violence became endemic. Mouse society had collapsed.

(Fact Source/more info) 

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