“I try to avoid looking forward or backward, and try to keep looking upward.” – Charlotte Bronte, English novelist.

What profound monsters live in the center of my ribs, drowning in cruel jokes as thick as poisoned honey, lining my throat with quills. I close the door and they swallow me, strings attached to every limb, a film that coats the inside of my body and shrinks with every breath. Bring me the head of this discontent, show me the platter, silver and red, show me the reason for this escape. Where was it that I felt betrayed? Depths, darkness, hair wrapped around my finger, a reminder, the source of the stifled anger, silent until it surfaced, a comment laced in arsenic, self-resentment, and, at worst, a painful thread of hate.

Eclipse reminder: break out your really nice cameras

Total Eclipse of the Moon

There’s going to be a total lunar eclipse Wednesday evening, (February 20th), which should turn the moon deep red as Earth’s shadow passes over it. Maximum eclipse will be at 10:26 PM EST and 7:26 PST. Besides North and South America, the eclipse will be from South America and most of North America (on Feb. 20) as well as Western Europe, Africa, and western Asia (on Feb. 21). Don’t miss this one, there won’t be another full eclipse until December 2010.

Anyone got a really good rooftop away from light?

I’m always posting partial thoughts.

I have just stumbled across some utterly unbelievable pictures. Thank you Nikkyboy, you’re fabulous. Why didn’t you tell me??


Right, well. I did have something to say but it’s been utterly wiped from my brain. Now I’m back to the fingertrap pondering of relationships, trying to find in myself the endless young girl snakeskin shedding of this belief for that.

See, I know I have a problem. I’m aware of quandary and fire, that salt tears erode spirit faster than the weather in winter. It’s all old news, a headline that travels back farther than my family name. Simply put, I love a man who doesn’t love me back, not in any optimistic way, not with any modicum of respect, not enough. This is a star misalignment of being and need. My make-up requires more care than they give me, my building blocks want and they scream at me, going catatonic with infuriating logic, if he wants a whore, he should have hired one, it’s not like he bloody well isn’t a hell damned slut, not that I even know who’s he’s fucking or that he’d tell me, but see, here’s the kicker – I can’t make it matter. Something’s wrong with me.

He’s just a man, flesh and bone like the rest of them, two eyes to see me as something less than I am, two lips from which to fall back-pedaling excuses, but in some intrinsic way, he’s caught in me. He is my sweetest lapse of sanity. To me he smells like rain and tastes like the crackle of an endless static pattern, no matter how he hurts me in his selfishness. It hasn’t been relevant that with/out him I’ve been dying. With my heart, my health has taken a dive, the two tied together in an uncomfortable treaty. I fall now, dizzy from being unable to care for myself, and my eyes can’t close at night without filling with sky, not a beautiful twilight filled with glittering wonder, but a particularly empty span, lending no reason to move in any direction.