i love that i know so many music lovers and music-makers. because even when the shit goes down and i’m collecting rainwater in buckets and have forgotten what electricity and the internet are, i’ll still be singing “how i left the ministry” to myself.
imagine if i got off my ass and bathed and sat up straight and had a bag of serotonin attached to my back dripping into my veins every day? i’d be the cleanest, happiest motherfucker with the best posture around.
in an attempt to be a good mother, i had my son fill out all of his valentines cards for his kindergarten class. i wrote the names of the kids that he had to give them to, and i had him sign his little name to each one. it took him 20 minutes to do. this is the email i received:
I think the Valentines that Christopher sent may have been mixed up with his sister’s class list ( I am not sure).
I can send home our class list again….if you don’t have one…
the problem with working for yourself is if something goes horribly wrong with whatever you’re working on and destroys your entire psyche, you may end up staying up until 6am applying for odd jobs on craigslist. what? you need someone to dye 4 bed sheets for an art project? i’m your girl.
“on a cartoon cat pad she scratched with a pen: “everything is as it’s always been, this never happened. don’t take it too bad, it’s nothing you did. just once something dies, you can’t make it live. you’re a beautiful boy. a sweet little kid. but i am a woman.””—bright eyes, take it easy (love nothing), digital ash in a digital urn