the mta is the uber-taint

i think the mta is a bunch of sadistic fucks.

you and everyone else.

the alerts they send are either annoying or not useful.

yes.

and i can't tell you how many days i've rushed out of my house when i wanted to sleep a little longer just to end up standing on a platform for forever and end up late to work anyway.

me too.

if i'm going to be late, i'd rather get the sleep.

but you wouldn't have the good excuse.

true. (pause) and the fare increases! what the fuck? i'm going to have to pay more to get crappier service.

i know.

i'm getting a bike. i'm just going to ride to work. all the other hipsters are doing it. i'll take the train when the weather sucks.

which for you is any time it's below 50.

i'll get use to it.

sure.

why can't it just work the way i want it to!

Well, I had a shitty commute this morning. How are you doing?

and miles to go

plan to learn time management
as in setting aside some for me
months begin open
quickly overfill and leave me exhausted

looking today there is little time left
for cleaning
for cuddling
for rest

may will come with the same promise
that i won't give it space to fulfill

the moment that i stop
what will happen
the moment that i don't
what will happen
the moment that i decline
what will happen
the moment
that i
sit still

I'm ready for the summer. Maybe I'll be able to really grab some time for myself then.

the unarrived guest

leave the mess and lay on the couch
scratch the kitten's belly

unhide the computer
surf the web
post this poem

my house is mine again

bare feet bare arms bare tits bare ass
no need to be decent
with myself

kitten stares
it's time for dvd
cylons won't destroy themselves
but
we could be wrong

I was supposed to have a guest for the next three nights. He found other arrangements. I am happy, because once again I am busy and need my fortress of solitude.

way to wonderland - post six

Ten paces and twenty were accomplished. Could she make it further? I want to walk to town. The bands left her legs, and she tried to walk left and was stopped, the bands back in place. She moved slightly right, and the bands vanished. Town was to the right. At least the bands had some functional use. Her legs moved at an oddly regular pace, on the edge of her control. The joy at accomplishing something larger than a few paces at the time dampened the panic she normally would have known. Body working outside of Mind, there was nothing more frightening. The crest of hill from where the tripod men had appeared waxed and waned under her feet, and the horses pondered the thought that had led her away in such a strange and rhythmic manner. Dipping toward the earth, the sun began to stretch the shadows. She walked.

~~~
a summer's morning splashed myriad colors on the stone floor, and lazy notes floated off of the violin and mingled with the scent of cake. the garden strained to look vibrant, knowing it should love the sun, but it longed for rain and grew green at the children racing to shrinking lake. a kitten nearly snatched a mouse. she ran away at her own prowess. the long lady huffed in amusement before dribbling tea on her chin. she wiped her chin and looked left. someone was coming. twelve or thirteen hours away. it would be close, but she could be ready. a cultish girl, older than most. the kitten bounced into her lap for its kisses, and the long lady complied before wrapping it up in her arms and gliding back into the house. the clock would not wait. a quick eye into the oven. four minutes longer. she rinsed out her cup and placed it on top of the breakfast plate in the sink. dishes fell to the end of today’s list. from the pantry cabinet she pulled the large stock pot, and filled it half full with water and dropped in three leaves from the creeping vine that had overcome the kitchen window. this she placed on the stove on high flame and left it to boil.

out in the yard, her long legs stepped over the gate meant for children and dogs and made their way into the depths of the garden. she needed roots and herbs.

Here is post six! What is the lady making? Is it good or bad or neither? Is she even a good cook?! These are things I think the long lady must answer herself. Posts: One, Two, Three, Four, & Five

i may not be pleasant right now

swishing swirling spiraling up and around the spine
fanning out the base and palming the back of the skull
inch fingers forward into the eyes
pulse there
pull up the jaw
press against relaxation
inspire sweet sleep but never give it
darkness
silence
coolness
flow
only these can cure

I had a headache.

something comes

a summer's day splashed myriad colors on the stone floor, and lazy notes floated off of the violin and mingled with the scent of cake. the garden strained to look vibrant, knowing it should love the sun, but it longed for rain and grew green at the children racing to waning lake. a kitten nearly snatched a mouse. she ran away at her own prowess. the long lady huffed in amusement before dribbling tea on her chin. she wiped her chin and looked left. someone was coming. twelve or thirteen hours away. it would be close, but she could be ready. a cultish girl, older than most. the kitten bounced into her lap for its kisses, and the long lady complied before wrapping it up in her arms and gliding back into the house. the clock would not wait.

I just started with a description. I was thinking about stained glass. This will probably be in the Wonderland story. I'm not sure how at the moment, but the story is figuring it out.

blood thieves

racing heartbeat and labored breathing
rising panic
trying to stay in control
trying to stay conscience
though there is something
pleasant
in fainting
peaceful really
for a moment
releasing the stress brought
by the simple
prick of a needle

I have a serious problem with needles. I know where it comes from, and I don't pass out as much as I used to (I don't let myself now that I know the signs). I have a doctor's appointment today, and I'm pretty sure there will be blood taken.