budgies in love

i really need this surgery.

it is ridiculous how people are treating me b/c i have "minimal" insurance.

i will not slip through the cracks! i need to be on this earth with as little pain or worry as possible!

while there is no cure for Crohn's, and the only way to maintain it is to get an invasive series of tests, the "ventral hernia" is real, and it needs to be taken out. not because i am a fantastic, thrilling person...not because i am a hypochondriac, or "addicted" to surgery (some people are).

someone is going to take it out of me. i will not wait 6 months b/c i have medicaid.

it's going to happen.

i thought the hard part would be recovering...but i realize that just getting these human-mechanics to value my life is even harder.

and some would say: "there's a lot of people out there who are sicker than you." how astringently smug.



i mean, thanks g-d for holding off on the other diseases for a little while. i respect everyone's individual complaints but this is my body, my issues, my complaints, my need for comfort, support, and attention (medical and non).

my life is not a throwaway.

I AM NOT DISPOSABLE. the physical challenges are enough, and the mental challenges are overwhelming. how could it be that people are getting botox & breast augmentation at this very moment in Philadelphia?

and most of all, i love you because you're crazy

i love you when you cry,
even though you're in pain
you look so beautiful
and you hardly make a sound

and if you do make a sound
you go off by yourself
gracefully, regemented;
it's like a child.

i love you when you walk
and when you run:
it's a victory!
if only you could see
how perfect
you are
when you travel
alone,
on your own.


i love you when you try
to meditate, or concentrate
and let your breaths
take over;
even if you feel clumsy...
it's just right.
know this, i am with you: don't
give up.


i love your little soft hands

i love your face
(especially when
you have the zits)

i love your lips
particularly when you're putting
balm or rouge on them
and smacking 'em together

i love it that you made it
past your life-expectancy
(21)
and furthermore i love the scar on your belly.


your most meaningful moments:
when you graduated high school
and college
when you got a job that you liked
and excelled in it




and most of all, i love you because you are crazy.

here's why:
the world needs your insight
the world needs your divergence
you have the *moxy* to be yourself
and men see it, and women see it

*and you know right from wrong,
and take your medicine.*

you've always had the guts to be yourself
even if you were miserable or fearful
or just alone and feeling freakish

you've been sick as hell

you're brave as hell

you're smarter than the average weirdo.

you're cute, you're damn pretty enough


you deserve a life less ordinary
b/c your heart, in all of its travels, its trials and disappointments,
is still big

and i would say it was made of gold
if the jokers nearby would be kind enough
to just let you be, rather than melt you down
with their 'clever torches'
and drug this heart
and poison it
again.

no, you're crazy and that's just perfect.

not just because of your legacy
or the way your feet have long toes

but the way you can feel at home in nature
maneuvering with caution and meaning
in the forest

seeing what you see
hearing what you hear

trusting that gut-sewn-shut
(and soon to be sewn-again! you'll have earned it!)

ever respecting the sky and the universe
not quite finding the derisive joke when everyone else in the room is cracking up

innocence growing, reaching for more awareness

slowly a little woman shapes her code, a stele
a law

i am luckier to know you
and your family treasures you

you're crazy
and that's just as it should be.

because crazies love plants
and love to dance
and rhyme
and sing songs to old people for no reason!

it's safe enough
to come out of your shell, maybe you will again
this year

(the shell comes and goes,
in different spirally shapes
but you
always leave
your mark.)

crazy, crazy, crazy:
spinning "Tumbalalaika"
never afraid to ask questions
that may have never been asked before.

it is your madness
that brings you home:
to entertain, to emote,
to astonish yourself
to find that boy who became the man
to do the minuet with you
for all the world to see

and so the romance:
so much more potent
for the divergent girl.

thank you, then
for being yourself.
you'll be welcomed to many new places
and unbelievably real fantasies
*flanked,
by your friends and family
old and new*

your destiny is as it goes
you are ready to be She

and now that you've shucked the poison leaves
overlaid like bandages on a mummy:

hear this....

"the miracle is here!!

the miracle is me!"

The Infatuant

And though you were only a cellblock away,
I knew I was forbidden to stride long there

So on my knees I mailed my tongue off
to your address,
Though I couldn't lick shut
the envelope or stamp.

Now, it's always night
Since I sold my tongue

For a bunch of fingers
That chatter
Like Teenage Radio



--copyright/ JLR March 19, 2009

turn and face the strange

these are some changes i've observed here around the depersonalization.

-i feel music physically. more physically. it seems to feel me. it finds me and it moves my temperature & blood

-it screams for me. much easier than screaming inside. too metaphorical. it's true though. i don't have to scream when i put on my headphones on.

-i have vertigo, she has vertigo, we now know what vertigo is from a medical-psi-chi standpoint

-i am going to get through this stronger than ever. that's why i let it happen. "you do it to yourself, just you...and that's why it really hurts."



i'm gone. it's fun to do. i feel the dancing coming back. [read: spirit fingers]


i will never shut the fuck up. who's the perp, she's the perp, he's the perp, there has to be a perp, huh. i don't care what you think anymore.



i get what "doll parts" is now

dear courtney love: thank you for being a sister, a friend, thanks for getting through it so i can too, i wish i was in a band like you.

the music is NOT LOUD ENOUGH. IT'S NOT LOUD ENOUGH. I WANT IT LOUDER.

the woman makes demands but not little-girl demands. woman demands are serious. even though child demands seem like life-or-death at the time.

i have an axe. a real ax, that is. not a euphemism for a guitar. it is used to chop wood.

it's an implement, this ax. i want to put it in the car and drive around town through the darkness that is putrid and sodden with my assailant's piss but no.

axe handles. william carlos williams? or was that the red wagon with the chickens? "so much depends on...."



this is who my enemy is: Afterwar.d.: after the battle is over and the dead are in shreads and the bloody bodies are immobilized and crying for their mothers and screaming if they are able to scream, and feeling so cold......i'm one of them... and i'm so terrified that i don't even know whether i'm living or dead. that's when the voice of the enemy wafts so, so close, like a private smell from childhood, and enters without hesitation, intoxicates me and whispers, "I hate you."

my dreams are on fire and you will see me on TV and bleeding upon the red carpet...almost life-like.

thanks especially for the glibness; glib is such a descriptive word, only 4 letters long. "stop that psycho blogger! stop her right...now!"





laxatives, please.


jamie-jam gets through this b/c she's been thru worse. just ask her childhood friends. (they were never ashamed of me, even when i was ashamed of myself.)


good news: i think the welbutrin is making me quit smoking!








and the music says,
"i'd like to change the world...
but i don't know what to do..
so i'll leave it up to you." --10 years after

The Friends That Were My Lies

{VARIOUS LYRIC QUOTATIONS FROM THE "BELLE & SEBASTIAN" BAND PERTAINING TO AND SOOTHING TO BLOG WRITER JAMIE, who hopes she annotated these passably}


"Call me a prophet if you like, It's no secret. You know the world is made for men. You know the world is made for men. You know the world is made for men, Not us." -- from, "We Rule the School," album: Tigermilk (1996)

"It's someone else's turn to go through Hell/Now you can see them come from twenty yards/Yeah you can tell/It's someone else's turn to take a fall/And now you are the one who's strong enough to help them/The one who's strong enough to help them/The one who's strong enough to help them all" --from, "Mary Jo," Tigermilk (1996)

"Hand in hand with the electronic renaissance is the way to go yeah" --from, "Electric Renaissance," Tigermilk (1996)

"'Something's gone wrong,' said the spider to the fly" --from, "Chickfactor," album: The Boy With The Arab Strap (1998*)

"You made me forget my dreams" --from, "You Made Me Forget My Dreams," album: Push Barman to Open Old Wounds (2005)

"They let Lisa go blind, The world was at her feet and she was looking down. They let Lisa go blind, But everyone she knew thought she was beautiful, Only slightly mental. Beautiful, a bit temperamental. Beautiful, only slightly mental...Beautiful."
--from, "Beautiful," album: "Push Barman to Open Old Wounds (2005)




"Wouldn't you like to get away? Kerouac's beckoning with open arms, And open roads of eucalyptus/Westward bound." --from, "La Pastie de la Bourgeoisie": Push Barman (2005)

because you care

"...I'm cut at the root like a weed/Cause there's no one to hear my small story/Just like a woman who walks in the street/I will pay for my life with my body/What price to pay/For bad wisdom?" --suzanne vega

Barbara Kruger Says it Best

help was nearby

i hope that the state i'm in isn't as cute as you think it is.

here i am after a post saying, and i paraphrase: 'all bipolars should be given another chance.' well sure. cool. but there are laws, and just b/c you are sick doesn't mean you're allowed to break them.



it happened during the snowstorm.

my next post will be victorious. or at least not full of such moribund abjection, haha.

i've changed my stance on bipolar affective disorder. every man (or woman) for him(her)self.