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Thursday, March 31st, 2016
7:36 am - Endangered Species - Bob Hicok
Originally posted by evening_train at Endangered Species - Bob Hicok
Very busy sensing there's nothing down the train tracks except remembering there are only five remaining speakers of Mohave. There might be a loose and rusted spike, a smashed bottle of Bud is likely if I walk long enough into picturing a basketball team of old men and women in a gym in Oklahoma bouncing an orange ball against a team made up of how the rest of the world can't understand them. Coal trains come through here, taking across the mountains what we've taken from the mountains, I think this is like walking over cows while eating a burger, and feel filled up on the empty feeling night is good at bringing to me like flowers before a date. Here, night says, I brought you this bouquet of gone, and it occurs to me these are the flowers of negation the man who spent a night in a foxhole with a dead Viet Cong was handed over and over. He doesn't talk about that, there's not a single speaker I know of the language called "this is what it's like to dig a hole and be alive in your death with the example of what that looks like." Nor am I the last speaker of the language called "I will too often use crows to express my deepest self," which it turns out is only centimeters below the surface, now that we're trying to go metric. The gravel sounds like breakfast cereal eaten straight from the box. If night is crows touching wings somehow in place, stars their eyes and the moon a hole in the patient of crows to obliterate, only the air, with its high absorption rate for dead languages, could speak of this to the past, which I've been trying my whole life to get in touch with. So the last speaker of Mohave will soon be sitting on the edge of her bed, noticing for the last time the beauty of cups, the entirety of their existence the honor of holding and giving over, emptying fullness into the empty mouth, and she will whisper a word the cup has heard many times over, and when she's dead, someone will take the cup away without putting it to their ear to listen to the last, the entire ocean of what is left of a people. They will be gone, the cup taken to a new life full of waiting for water to come. I understand that sensation most of all, feeling there should be something inside me there's not a word for in English or Urdu or Wichita. In grunt, perhaps, in the language I've called "heat this blade upon the stove and press it against your forearm," absolutely. If languages have to die, kill that one. Every time I walk it down these tracks and leave it, it drags its way back and kisses the neck of my sleep with its teeth.

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Friday, April 2nd, 2010
9:59 pm
And then I forgot I was recovering, and I binged an extreme amount of food! My digestive system is all, "Wait, are we digesting this? Is that what we do now?" and so I am bloated and gassy, bleeeurgh.

And I took laxatives, and I am going to take more, and this is bad but I guess I will try again tomorrow. I am good at trying again tomorrow.

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Thursday, April 1st, 2010
9:02 am
I am trying to give up my eating disorder.

Which sounds about a million times easier than it is. I had gotten so used to having nothing in me all the time that EATING and DIGESTING and DERIVING NUTRIENTS FROM FOOD is enough to actually make me cry. My anxiety came back with a vengeance, and I can get about thirty minutes into a class before I start to panic.

What I am trying to say, is this would be easier if I could see some benefit to recovery. I'm still hungry and cranky and tired, the only difference is that now I'm all that, and bloated with food, too.

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Tuesday, March 16th, 2010
1:05 am
BAD NEWS: My street is flooded!

GOOD NEWS: I am not there right now.

BUT BAD NEWS: I needed to be there tomorrow.

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Saturday, February 27th, 2010
10:37 pm - A short list of things you should know about the eruption of Mount Vesuvius, 79 AD
-The city was not perfectly preserved in time, as many roofs collapsed, and buildings suffered immeasurable damage, and what was able to be looted after the eruption was looted

-There was no lava, but in Pompeii and Herculaneum it rained pumice and ash from the huge cloud of molten rock that had erupted into the sky
-- This is called a Plinian eruption, in honor of Pliny the Younger, who first described it

-Pliny the Elder launched a rescue mission, only to die in Stabiae of complications due to asthma
-- Pliny the Elder was very fat, and not in peak physical condition
-- His nephew (and adoptive son) Pliny the Younger, didn't go with his uncle because he was busy doing his Latin homework

-In one of the pyroclastic flows, which headed towards Herculaneum, mostly, avoiding Pompeii, the heat was so intense that people's flesh was instantly turned to charcoal, and their brains boiled in their skulls
-- We know this because the skulls have scorch marks along the sutures where the brains boiled out

-Another pyroclastic flow (which resulted when the cloud of hot ash and molten rock collapsed on itself) brought a wave of toxic gas through Pompeii
-- Soon afterward, another flow brought hot ash and toxic gas which killed everyone who remained in the city (we have molds of dogs who were chained up writhing in pain from inhaling the toxic gases)

-The final flow actually reached across the bay to Misenum, where Pliny the Younger and his mother were, and where Pliny the Elder had sailed from. They had remained, waiting for Pliny the Elder, but fled when they saw the eruption heading their way.

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Monday, January 25th, 2010
9:21 pm
Things I Am Losing:
-my faith in myself to remember my keys (just kidding, I never had this)
-hair elastics
-my gag reflex
-the last remaining knowledge of calculus
-my memory

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Thursday, January 21st, 2010
12:24 am - I don't know who you are, but you have good taste
"Lately, I feel like that all over again. Even crowded
around the table at lunch with everyone. Like my friends
are drinking soda while I’m sipping gasoline. My teeth hurt
from remembering. My throat hurts from not telling. "

- 'Quietly' by Eireann Corrigan

"I’m at that age when everyone is talking about the kinds of love
they’ve been using to get by."

- 'Turning' by Annie Guthrie

I don't trust my new podiatrist because he has a very gentle voice, and then suddenly he is scraping part of my toe off and I am crying because it hurts but it's a weird hurt, I can feel it all the way inside my toe, but it would be impolite to let him see me cry. He is only doing his job.

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Thursday, January 7th, 2010
8:34 pm
I had a massage today, and it was brilliant. Only now I want another one, and I am worried that I will become hooked on massage therapy, requiring one daily in order to function. This is serious worry, massage addiction would be an expensive habit.

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Friday, January 1st, 2010
11:14 pm
Dear Diary,

I had a pretty okay New Year's Eve; I spent it in Boston going to all the First Night events with my brother and his girlfriend. If I could ignore their constant making out, it would have been better. Also, if I had been as drunk at midnight as those two men who were fighting each other in the Common with drumsticks.

But there were fireworks! Except they only had them at seven on the Common, and the midnight fireworks were at the aquarium and invisible to those of us not there.

Tonight I ate Fortune Cake with my housemates, and I got two fortunes in my slice. They were both in Bulgarian and Yuli told me they said I would be in school and have good health, they could have said that I would get genital warts, I don't speak Bulgarian.

It was the best day ever,

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Saturday, December 26th, 2009
10:54 am
Christmas was actually going just fine until my uncle grabbed my ass and now I just feel kind of gross.

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Sunday, December 20th, 2009
8:54 pm
I got an A in Latin and in Bio, and even though I don't have my other grades I am guessing they are either As or "It's okay, at least you tried"s

Oh and I cry all the time now, it is embarrassing and I am thinking about becoming someone who lies on the couch all day and watches soaps and weeps; I am pretty close already

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Saturday, December 12th, 2009
12:18 am
dear livejournal,


this happens if you get together with church ladies and drink a lot of white white wiii-iii-iiiine

also I won a pie plate so now I can bake THE SHIT out of some pies

also I guess I can never show my face again at church

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Saturday, November 28th, 2009
4:33 pm

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3:39 pm
heartburn heartburn heartburn

in other news, HEARTBURN

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Wednesday, November 25th, 2009
9:58 pm
My entire body hurts from cooking all day, but at least now we will have pumpkin pie and cranberry sauce and stuffing and Toll House cookie pie and turkey and sweet potatoes and squash and it all runs together after a while.

In other words, there is no room in our refrigerator and so I am kind of mad that my brother ordered more Chinese food than he could eat; we need the fridge space!

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Sunday, November 22nd, 2009
3:17 pm - Also for some reason I think constantly about sandwiches
Lauren asked me, "What do you need to do to be happy?" and the answer was, "Be someone else."

I keep waking up in the middle of the night panicking about Thanksgiving. How am I going to arrange all of the foods so that they arrive on the table warm? I was okay about this before I started watching too many Food Network specials, where people call in shouting, "The turkey was dry and now everyone is DEAD!" My favorite was the man who called in to say his cat ate the turkey. I do not think that is a cooking problem, sir.

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Sunday, November 15th, 2009
2:55 pm
Looking at past Project Runway final collections makes me feel kind of nauseous whenever I watch this season.

Also, I told my mom that if Christopher won I would never watch Project Runway again (how can he be so clueless about the FUG of his clothes???)- but he teamed up with Carol Hannah for her 13th look, and her final collection is definitely the best. I want her to win, but if she wins it is partially a Christopher win as well!

I just hate him so much aaaagh, even Nicholas had more talent than he does and Nicholas could only make white dresses covered in sparkles, also there was already a White Witch so your costume idea was not original, dude have you never heard of this famous book, I think they made in into a movie, about this land called Nurnia- no, Narnia- and IT'S CALLED THE LION THE WITCH AND THE WARDROBE EVERY CHILD HAS READ IT

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Saturday, November 14th, 2009
10:54 pm
I hate November because I type a hundred times more than I usually do due to NaNo, and now my pinky (the one where the tendon is only partially attached, WEIRD, what if it detaches oh God oh God) hurts.

I like to talk about my tendon issues because it is the only time I ever had a Medical Problem, and my sole goal in life is to get to a point where I can complain about being sick all the time.

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Wednesday, November 11th, 2009
9:37 pm
I have a very small bruise on my head. It's raised and roundish, just a little smaller than a pea.

I have no memory of getting this bruise, I discovered it a few nights ago when I was scrubbing my hair in the shower. It seemed to disappear the next day, and now it's back, and more defined. I desperately want to ask someone to look at the top of my head and describe it to me, but I don't know anyone well enough to feel comfortable asking them that.

Until I hear otherwise, I'm just going to assume it's cancer. Really I just assume every ailment is cancer, because it is the one disease that doesn't run in our family, and I am just waiting for it to manifest in me so that I can collect all the hereditary diseases. Degenerative hip disease, heart disease, osteoporosis, arthritis, Alzheimer's, addiction, depression, bring it on.

Admittedly that previous sentence would look a lot better if it were more concise, but we like to pass all of our horrible problems on to the next generation in my family.

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Thursday, November 5th, 2009
11:16 am
Last night in lab, I couldn't think up any words I needed to. A consensus was taken, and it was agreed upon that lab is equivalent to being high. Basically, when I spend ten minutes staring at a computer screen saying, "I can't remember what it's called. This time, I'm going to think until I remember it!" I am usually on drugs.

I should also stop reading large encyclopedias on food and cooking techniques before I go to bed. When I dreamt about eggs on Tuesday, that was all right, but last night I dreamt about meat, which was slightly weirder.

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