Saturday, February 16, 2019

ridiculous. they put a screen around this tree, dead alive before the recent beaver chomp chomp, while across the lagoon they chop down others like this:

what the fuck is the park district doing? they are removing trees in preparation for the takeover of the park and nature sanctuary by private enterprise.

is there a primitive in each of us? if there is still a primitive, is it isolated from our personality? has the primitive its own motive? how do we relate? how we are, is it mostly determined by external influences? is there a wild one inside us looking out at our inscrutable world? how can we honor this one and live in this place.
what if we feel differently about the same thing? is there a same thing?

Friday, February 15, 2019

    i titled this picture anxiety disorder and found there was already a picture titled so in the same folder, so i took off the disorder and looked to find there are eighteen pictures with anxiety in the title, with one called simply anxiety, but that was last year, and it seems last year's anxiety was a separate category of anxiety, in time. in a way it's a relief, to know that i've been anxious many times going back a long way, before this diary, i was an anxious kid, raised on anxiety, though it always feel unprecedented, just the same. i probably talked it endlessly in therapy, and it never lessened for long. it never went away entirely. maybe by now it's just my default mode.


cracking the ice.
if you can go home while it's light. 
can you talk not fight.
lulu learned when she pushed the button on the elevator with her nose a voice responds, 
what's your emergency? she looks at the speaker wondering.
i don't know what to say about the emergency. i fail to respond. i'm queasy. i fall inwardly.
i feel like i can't breath, from the cold and anxiety. i feel so cold and sad. i can't breathe. 
for a brief spell i played with lulu. the cold receded along with the anxiety. so, bereft.
come home now, 
there's little light left.

mad world

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head, I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow
And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very very
Mad world, mad world
Children waiting for the day, they feel good
Happy birthday, happy birthday
Made to feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen, sit and listen
Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
Hello teacher, tell me what's my lesson
Look right through me, look right through me
And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very very
Mad world, mad world
Enlarge your world
Mad world

it's as corrupt at you could possibly imagine.