this is what i do every monday & thursday night

ghostland observatory

"Music, not sex, got me aroused.”
-Marvin Gaye

Anaïs Nin

"I am an excitable person who only understands life lyrically, musically, in whom feelings are much stronger as reason. I am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me. Anything I can not transform into something marvelous, I let go. Reality doesn't impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls."


"There were always in me, two women at least, one woman desperate and bewildered, who felt she was drowning and another who would leap into a scene, as upon a stage, conceal her true emotions because they were weaknesses, helplessness, despair, and present to the world only a smile, an eagerness, curiosity, enthusiasm, interest."


"Man can never know the loneliness a woman knows. Man lies in the woman's womb only to gather strength, he nourishes himself from this fusion, and then he rises and goes into the world, into his work, into battle, into art. He is not lonely. He is busy. The memory of the swim in amniotic fluid gives him energy, completion. Woman may be busy too, but she feels empty. Sensuality for her is not only a wave of pleasure in which she is bathed, and a charge of electric joy at contact with another. When man lies in her womb, she is fulfilled, each act of love a taking of man within her, an act of birth and rebirth, of child rearing and man bearing. Man lies in her womb and is reborn each time anew with a desire to act, to BE. But for woman, the climax is not in the birth, but in the moment man rests inside of her"

11*11

i just wanted to thank you
for inspiring me to start living on the edge
no, scratch that
to start living again
to not play it so safe
and boring
and dead
to take a chance to
hear the music
and dance
and feel alive

Harlem

By Langston Hughes


What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore-
and then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over-
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it sags
like a heavy load

Or does it explode?

10-30-98

Chills all over
Hands all over
Empty me
Skin on skin
Ina d out
Minds spinning
Why am I here?
What are you doing?
I can't hold back
Stop. We need to stop.
My heart isn't yours
It's no one's
I won't be here at dawn
I won't be here in five minutes
I'm somewhere else
and you're still here
Stop. Chills all over
Spin, spin...
You mean more than this
I don't mean as much
Cut me down
I'm bleeding
My soul hurts
Droopy eyes say you want more
That I can't give you
I'm falling
You're flying
This isn't happening
Because I'm somewhere else
And you're still here