chirk

she looked down at the table as she said it and her cheeks mottled.

waterglyphs. following these through a desert.

'I'm glad you are asking these questions.' doesn't say why. tired of the not-saying.

moss in the boundary layer, undisturbed. the air's humid and still enough that it can reach up to drink, drink up to grow. grow grow grow. no inner structure but it doesn't need one. unless it reaches into the turbulence, gets dried out, nothing to store and carry water internally.

constricted calves, aching hip flexors. why don't they give give give.

First dance in 18 months @ 0.22

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10151245926730184&set=vb.263983420335323&type=2&theater

bouncing around like I'm riding a horse! Torso of great ambivalence. I didn't have heels on because my ankles are so weak now. Tonight I put them on - couldn't even walk in a straight line for a while.

what can I do? eat the mold like it's cream, with that tiny teaspoon? mold is endlessly productive but it doesn't seem like a good option.

My mother and aunt are talking Grandma's kitchen. Mum is asking C if my brother gave her a good shoulder massage.

'To tell the truth, it wasn't that good. He just sort of prodded me for a while and left me feeling sorer.'
'You should tell him it wasn't good enough. People shouldn't be able to get away with that. Make him do it properly. After all, now you're in touch with the Infinite, you have the power to face these things.'

I'm in the bathroom while they talk, looking at my hair in the mirror. Dandruff, bald spots. I look closely at the scalp. It's horrible, blotches of white mould everywhere, the flesh soft and liquid underneath. There's a giant mouldy crater towards the front of my head, with a dark lip of skin around it. I gingerly part the hair to look at it and feel disgusted - it's like a soft sea of white. I notice there's a small aluminium teaspoon sitting in there. I brush it out, let it fall to the floor, wondering if it's this foreign body that has caused the mould. Maybe my scalp will heal now that I've removed it.


Then this scene begins again - I'm in the bathroom while they talk, looking at my hair in the mirror. Dandruff, bald spots. I part the hair to see how bad it is. There are scabby wounds all over. I look at the top of my head - the crown is completely bald. I'm shocked that I have been walking around looking like this and I start to cry. I'm shouting at my relatives - why didn't they tell me? Why did no one say anything? They don't answer but I can see from their faces that it's because there was nothing that could be done.

I'm running with G, racing with him, not against each other but towards something. this is on video, a clip on Savage Love where Dan Savage is reflecting on how two people of different physical attractiveness quotients can sometimes have great pleasure in each other. As we run there's a huge grin on my face. The comments are about my plain, unattractive face and how round I am, almost spherical, but that we both seem to be having a good time.

I'm surprised, looking, recognising that I am really not attractive. And I'm surprised everyone's taken us for a couple, they don't understand he's my therapist. I'm watching this from a mattress on the floor in front of the tv at my dad's small, dreary apartment.

My dad comes home and I feel guilty. I can tell he's disgruntled. He says something about newspapers and I wonder if he's seen this clip and is mad about me being so publicly visible. I haven't done anything around the house. I went to the shop but didn't get anything good for dinner. Something, but nothing good. I apologise. I tell him I went to buy a bed for them (meaning for the spare room, so I'd have somewhere to sleep) but didn't because I wasn't staying.

He says yes, a bed would be good, we'd appreciate that. We can go down to the shops after dinner and see if we can find one. I realise it's for him and my stepmother to sleep in, and that I am obligated to buy it for them.