it feels like im getting continually smaller
like my arms are being pulled into my chest
and my chest into my legs
and eventually i will just be two feet

i feel like i am a disabled person in the centre of a cypress hill crowd
and everyone is moving past me
trying not to look
thinking
was she born that way

keep imagining a giant teacup and saucer descending from outer space and crushing me in my house while i sleep, spilling a little darjeeling on passers-by

i heard a guy read a poem last night about a baby pterodactyl and wished i had written a poem about a baby pterodactyl

also

wondering if there is such thing anymore as
spontaneous contact
in real life
without drugs or alcohol i mean
do two people who do not know each other
ever just turn to each other and speak on the train
and touch hands
and later have sex
without knowing
if the person likes white or wholemeal bread first

here are some deleted sentences from something i was working on today:

If I was an airship I don’t think I'd like it.

I am supposed to be a brilliant and overbearing ice hockey superstar, I can feel it. I have never skated since I was 4 years old.


How big is Guam?


I think about passion fruits and I really don’t know what they look like.


I want to walk around Turkey with a blonde wig on my head and with my eyes closed and with my pockets inside out. I want do the breaststroke while wearing a balaclava.

uncertain of what to say


my spirits
i am a clocktower today.
my spirits are lifted today.
i am a clocktower.
i am a lift.
my spirits are lifted today.
i am a squid in a lift.
my spirits are in a lift today.
i am a squid in a lift in a clocktower, rising.
today i am a squid.
today i am rising.
i am a clocktower in a lift, rising.


still don't know what to say really, at all


who's out there...

unmap/swallow the duvet

wondering how to make people interested in my blog
does it matter?
or if i don't want to have a blog


should i write about a party i went to last week?
i will

what is '0 comments'?

should i write about a christian man who spoke with me?
his hands looked like deer hooves
he kept saying the word 'love'
there was a bulge in his corduroy crotch

blog
going to eat breakfast while saying blog
blog blog
forcing muesli in my mouth and saying blog
feel hungry
i'm really good at breakfast
going to become the superintendent of breakfast or something
not sure what that means
i'm tired of breakfast
fuck's sake
i'm sick of hearing about breakfast's plans for the weekend
breakfast is a disgusting slut
going to fire breakfast for turning up drunk wearing lipstick
breakfast has told its last racist joke
i have a friend who got fired from work for calling a black male a crack dealer

nothing is as beautiful as a busted open knee
might never eat breakfast again
i feel bad
i feel like swallowing coins
so that i can later sit in a hospital waiting room
and try to touch people

today my plans include movement and the making of small sounds
today i am going to really try my best to woo the postman
girls are not supposed to woo
girls are supposed to bleed
and they are supposed to hide the bleeding with cotton bullets

trying to write more
trying to send writing to more people
okay okay

a blog is funny, i guess

i am going to push this blog out of my cervix
only because only because

on the bus this morning i felt incredibly warm toward any black person not reading a bible

i repeatedly looked out of the window thinking 'this is happening right now'
i kept touching my hands together and then pulling them apart
like applauding
but more sad

is anyone actually attracted to virgins?

seems extremely dumb

i guess i don't know

my mother phoned today to repeat the word 'disappointed'
my mother believes in leaving the EU, monogamy, and manners

walked around a lot yesterday listening to fang island and wanting to be left alone and wanting to talk to people

and so on