Hello bulk posting, my old friend


I like to post stuff to Facebook, but I intend to delete my Facebook account one day, so I’d rather have it here.  Also, there’s been stuff going on, and I gather that the purpose of a blog is (in a general sense) to record when stuff goes on. However, I would rather do it in single posts, since it’s easier on the reader. So we’re coming in bits here, folks.  Bulk posting, rather than your standard bulk post.


I am not a good blogger.  I blog intermittently.

So, bulk blog post. Unedited verbal diarrhea

  • “I want to focus on the girl who won’t say penis”
    “…. I am comfortable with the fact that I am uncomfortable with my sexuality” — Community
  • Engagement dis-engaged.  Phooey.  Uncertain of my future.
  • Bad acid trip = realization that perhaps, I am just disgusting.  Abscess-riddled body, house covered in trash, no clean pants so not wearing pants, need to do my roots… sometimes, something gross is just something gross.  Re-interpretation of sexuality, also.  Perhaps the inevitable result of bad m/f sex on ‘cid
  • I’m a vegetarian now.  We’ll see how long it sticks for.  The thought burst forth from a k-hole and stuck to all the walls of my establishment.  Now meat pretty much just looks gross to me.  Eating too much cheese, though.  Need to swap cheese for beans and do my poor body a favor.  Still turning over in my mind whether I’m heading towards an ITAL way of eating, or goshness knows
  • Spent much, much too much time in medical establishments.  Surgery for abscesses leads to infection and infection and re-infection and antibiotics and months of daily cleaning and what have you.  Bored of hospitals now.  Perhaps it’s all because I’m gross. 
  • Still love cats.  Always and forever, they make me giggle. Can’t believe that such perfect little beings just exist and wander around and give out cuddles.  Too cute.
  • Have actually decided that I want to go to Japan.  Never had anywhere I have wanted to go before, so it’s a moderately big deal.  Kyoto, certainly, for the spiritual aspect and ease of vegetarian eating, but Anthony Bourdain may well have convinced me to do Tokyo as well

Note to self


Last night I completed my second ever self-poked tattoo session. As the morning creeps up, the lessons set in. I am tattooing a mandala, and due (perhaps, I should say, thanks)) to my lack of skill, it is evolving as I tattoo it. As I learn new skills, as I make new mistakes, it is changing, it is evolving. I meditate on it, I think about where it is headed next.

I can already see the next step. Little mistakes that need correcting, new ideas that need incorporating. I can see where I am headed.

I love my tattoo right now. I can see all the errors, all the mistakes, but I love it. I’m really proud of it. I’m proud of the art I have created.

That said, I hope I can always see its mistakes. It is perfectly possible that maybe it will never really be complete. There will always be more to do.

Maybe I’ll regret it. Maybe one day I will look at it and think “God, what a mess!” and go running to a pro to beg them to cover it up. And that’ll be cool too, because perhaps when you create art like this, you don’t get to put a limit on its evolution.


Mornings in this house are all rattling – in cunts, in lungs, in cages. No-one here wakes up and heads boldly into their day. It’s pacing, it’s planning, it’s procrastinating. Its tiredness and sickness and the cruelest kind of boredom. It’s doors eventually slamming, heating left running, kettle still hot.