HIV test results: negative. Luck? Perhaps the fates have something more in store for me than a noble death to disease...
I was in LA. A trial-run of sorts for moving there. I don't know if I could survive. There was only one Taco Bell, and that I didn't get to see. The shops are gorgeous, though! Pull My Daisy, filled with thrift shop clothes, Betty Paige magnets, zippy tampon cases, the best of Girlie Magazine, collections of nudes, black string bikinis with hand-painted flames in the crotch, beautiful things. In the bookstore, I ran across Kafka's short stories, illustrated.
I was in LA, embarassed to use my Spanish for fear of insulting any native Spanish speakers. I ate in Mexican restaurants, the oldest cafe in Santa Monica, and various Denny's Family Restaurants. Yes, at one AM Denny's was packed. And all I wanted was a root beer float...
I was in LA. I played the freeway game.
I want to take pictures.
10/20/99 10:01 PM My Bedroom:
I want to take a picture. I want to wear leopard skin underwear and dirty, ripped jeans. I will smear the underwear with menstrual blood and place bandages on my lower arms. I will drop my pants around my ankles and sit on the green toilet in my green bathroom with green tile. I will rest my elbows on my knees and put my hands together, palms up. Someone will write across my palms in bold, sloppy, all caps:
DON'T BASH MY ART
Ripped denim and leopard print will be arranged so that the camera, held by Jenny over my shoulder (right?), can get a good view of the red on blue and stripes. I will be barefoot, if she can see my feet. No, I'll wear boots with bright pink laces. Barbie-esque.
In LA, there wasn't one picture I wanted to take except for running out of film on the beach.
I had an anxiety attack.
I'm too scatter-brained to write.
fallen
previous thoughts of the day
ARCHIVES
poetry
omnipotent eulogy
short stories and other literary works
about me
tuba town
links
© 1998 UrielsPoet@aol.com
Get your own Free Home Page