615 days to go

olive you not?






'.....the perfect sky is torn.....'



friday nov. 2, 2001

5:40 am

i'm worried about you, and i'm worried about me. the curves around midnight
aren't easy to see. flashing red warnings unseen in the rain. this thing has turned into
a runaway train.

long distance phone calls, there's a voice on the line. electrical miles that soften the time.
and dynamite too, is hooked on the wires/and so are the rails of american flyers.

blind boys and gamblers, they invented the clues. you'll pay up in blood
when this marker comes due. to try and get off here is as bad as insane, as those who wave lanterns
at runaway trains.

steel rails and heartlines, they are always in twos. i have been here before this, and now
it's with you.

i'm worried about you, i'm worried about me. we're lighting the fuses, and counting to three.
what are the choices for those who remain? the sign of the cross or the runaway train?

this thing has turned into a runaway train.


See it shinning on the highway at night,
Little lights burning from the cafe right
An eight track's playing your "Silver Wings"
Like a razor's edge Merle Haggard sings

And a woman rides the beast
In the seven hills of the fallen priests
And a woman rides the beast

-----john stewart


loopyloopy,whee hee hee.






coming from that microsoft window.

blew a breath of warm air at it& the computer steamed up




...hate being summed up by a small
part of what i am or what i say.
context is everything.
snap judgements suck.
but hey, whatever's easiest..

funny how my rhythm syncs up with some, falls
out of step with some, then realigns, or syncs up with
others; love is a rhythm.....communication is a rhythm...
lately i hate everything blithe.

don't blast my honesty with blitheness

kate does the same thing: spouts and spews the passionate
stuff which lays her bare to the bone. &i even start to get
judgemental about her choices/directions, in my head. b/c
she carries on wildly with the doom&gloom scenarios and all
of a sudden she's got a whole series of great auditions lined

...&i think, well, fuck it, she's shaping her own destiny, &i'm
just along for a ride & because i love to hear her talk....
...and talkandtalkandtalk and TALk.

lovely kate who i watched on tv in the 80's &loved&remembered when we met a few years ago. she has a spark
that katie does, a dangerous spark that burns itself too bright sometimes

too strange and wonderful, offputting&loveable.

hate the easy answers, hate the snap judgements, hate the
justice-preaching militants and the militant peaceniks both hate preaching one thing and practicing another no
matter what form it takes.

will had a good point.
davis is taking for opening his mouth,
but it would have leaked anyway. too many people involved.

oh..he's here. there he sits.

work to do.

..a pang..

i feel i will never


have anything to say

to him ever again


(unbearable longing to hold him&then
remember him holding someone else instead of me)


it reveals things otherwise dormant.
causes knowledge of another.
extracts costs.

easier to oppose tendencies in others that are bad
than to address one's own tumor-laden ulcer jello. no?

we radiate tendencies outward
or inward, changing the climate
of everything. we're each distinct and separate
and part of something larger as well. our immediate circle
and wider realms that are hard to nudge without violence,
or concerted leadership of a vast number of souls, enough to
physically push and push until a ripple occurs in the world.

greater forces, illness, violent legacy, regional poverty,
evolution of the mind, the senses, the instincts.

and tiny variables
like love
or chance
or timing
or choices
sometimes making no difference
sometimes radiating outward and tipping one balance that tips another
and a ripple moves out to become larger and larger.....

yes, if it were all up to me, i would......but it's not;
the forces that operate according to one's theory
of the world differing wildly at times from
the forces in actual play. the compromises deeper
maybe. varying depending....
i would rather have clinton. bush made me cringe
with the tax cut that drained the coffers, the hundred billion
dollar missiles flying into the sky from vandenburg,
playing hooky from all those summits.
and now this pounding and pounding at the desert.



how you would like the
world to be, vs. how it is.
the extent to which you can be seduced
by your own illusions.
the extent to which the behavior
of human beings can be predicted
and managed.

i used to be a conspiracy theorist,
before i started reading the paper and the
wires every day.
i still am......but the role i think
conspiracy plays, has changed
....w/the introduction of so many other
factors on the scene.


there are games to be played:
situations in flux; simple principles at work as well.

action and reaction,
aggressive passivity,
blunted perception.

agendas, appetites, compulsions,
evaluations. possible moves vs. consequences.

motives &compassion.
uncertain percentage of pure.
what's to be gotten from what can be given,

needs of self vs. needs of others,
how much of one will detract from the other?

and was i just the image of a lover.

hello in there.





616 days to go

thu. nov. 1, 2001

2:30 pm

aside from being deeply
addled by lack of sleep, excess caffeine,
effexor, ephedrine, and tequila,

no, seriously. it's
physically yucky...napping, not napping,
bursts of energy, stretches of lethargy,
but mostly existing somewhere below the
subnormal horizon
someone just said 'get over your
anthrax pakistan trip.'

i can't get away from moments of pure
..something. remembrance, annoyance. i walk
into the hallway that leads to master control
and there's this big ass box -HUGE box,
you can't NOT see it--in the mail section.

and i know it's from this admirer who
sends him something about once a month.
just because, he said. no return address. gifts.
he said he thought it was 'sweet' to do that for
so long, and not include a return address or want
something back. but
he had met the admirer at one point, and it was
(of course) a very lonely

and i thought,
it's not a sweet, selfless gesture
as much as it is SAD. i mean,
if this woman had someone in her
life to give where she could get something
back, maybe she wouldn't send these packages
once a month for years and years.
if i recall correctly, this woman wanted
him to give up radio and move
to the country with her or
and i remember leaving him
little gifts, and getting so
little back in terms of
contact, company,
mutual back-and-forth consistent trusting
give and take, and how frustrating that
really was.
i mean, it could
be a sweet gesture;
but more likely this is just a really
lonely person who's willing to give
and give and get nothing back
at ALL...

anyway i saw that and



something the stuck in the
sweaty flypaper glue that seems to be
coating my convulsing brain and picking
up linty little facts to spit on the
air morning and afternoon between
stretches of delirium


just looked at it again.
there IS a return address.
so this is not really
something for nothing.
you can't tell me
that in this woman's heart
of hearts she doesn't want
something back.
god, it is really sad.

but it's not my problem.


5:13 am

the air is achingly clear and clean
spicy smell of fall and ocean.
astoundingly, astoundingly precious
ocean-salted eucalyptus air that carries
something ancient down from the mountains on a secret wind.

something perceived just below a conscious level and
more powerful for not being directly experienced----something
rich, aging, and wild. something in the fermenting
tangle of dying leaves carpeting the foothills.

sage, oak, heather gone brittle
roasted by a summer's worth of brilliant sun and
going back to earth now in darker days,
seeding the ridges for another season, and down in the flatlands
the mystery surrounds us..

think about ed all the time.

can't comprehend he's not here. he does not
exist. he was, and now is not. he is not anywhere.
my mind can understand that a leaf will decompose
and, broken into elements, soak into the soil.

it can comprehend that ed's ashes will do the same.

but it can't comprehend that ed himself is gone.
not anywhere---simply gone. his body is one thing.
ed is another,
where is he?

he is nowhere.

&i don't understand.

&i think about him every day&wonder.




617 days to go

top entry most recent, scroll down for older

olive you, olive you not.


wed. oct 31, 2001


if there's anything weirder than
going from zero to sixty at this hour
i don't know what it is

kyle is here
he was here last night when i left
after 7. seems a little


it must be a combination of the meds and the early hours. b/c
night sweats last night ...like nothing before. soaked. soaked, hot cold
drenched soaked.
and wild weird dreams.
and this morning a little sad that it's fall again and.....can't wrap my
arms round him in a sweater.
or anyone in a sweater. no, not just anyone. kyle would do just fine;

just because, just because it's really cold outside..REALLY cold.

i hope i hope today is better, physically. yesterday got really really really hard
can't catch up just with the sleep shift. but slept like the sweating dead
ice-hot saltwater-slick and dead
like the sweating/shaking quick-and-dreaming
sheathed-in-condensation dead
since 9:30 pm so

willing wishing for
a syringe to inject liquid crack
make that weapons-grade





he walks down the

hall and it's
like seeing the ghost




618 days to go


tuesday, oct.30,2001

6:45 am

love the rain

love the fall

so i'm okay.
i am not missing having
him in my life.
i miss him.....
but when i think about all that
happened for all that time......the other women,
the hiding of our 'liason', the whole terms and
conditions of the thing, i don't miss it at all.

don't feel wistful or sad even. not most
of the time.

it was a real blow. the 51-year-old. it
seemed so sudden, but he had probably been seeing her for
awhile and just not told me.

i wonder if he's
also seen the actress. i would be willing
to bet there's at least been communication there,
and in inward toying-with-the-idea-of-trying-again.

i don't miss it, i don't want it.

i want someone who would go to melissa's
with me, travel with me, be a boyfriend
and all that.

it'll be nice to find that again.

it'll be nice to not have to wonder when
the other shoe will drop...when all of a sudden
i'll face the threat of another woman yet again.

in fact, it's nice to not have to deal with that

nice..nice...nice. katie moans all the time
about how there's "no one to hold" but
i can't seem to get really sad about that myself.

it's a bummer, to be sure, but .....i don't know. it would be nice
to have that, it's fall, a cozy time...but...

all in its time i guess. in the
meantime, i think i'm going in the direction
intended, in this 700 days project.




just kidding, i don't have any more to report about the
fucking fun foam. but i do want to say ---you know how sometimes
you're just REALLY DRAWN to a person? for some reason you find that
person delicious, irresistable, endlessly intriguing?

and it can even work with infants.

i never knew this. (i try to stay away from infants as much as possible)

so this is how i feel about my niece sharon. could be
that mel named her in memory of our mother.

or it could just be that she's delicious.

anyway, as cute as she is, it's the expression on her face that's always
got me. like she's looking avidly and thinking, 'now what the fuck
is going on HERE?' ---and her delight in violence and sadism, as
when james takes their toy taco bell chihuahua (which says 'yo quiero taco bell'
if you press its chest) and slams it repeatedly into the floor, resulting in 'YO QUIERO
TACO BELL! (SLAM!) YO QUIERO TACO BELL!' (SLAM!)......---which causes her
to scream in pure delight--or, when he takes
her arms and jerks them up and down like she's a rag doll, and it looks as if he's going
to rip her arms off, but she laughs and laughs at it-----
anyway, so it was obvious even before she was semi-conscious that whatever
desire came floating up from the dim depths of that baby brain was
not going to thwarted in any way. very strong-willed little kid. since
she can't talk, this manifests in grunts and yells. yesterday, mel said
"this is going to be a real problem." sharon still can't talk at a year old, although
she understands everything from complex commands on down.
but her tantrums are already legendary, according to mel.
she related an incident the other night where, from her high chair, sharon
was having difficulty expressing what it was she wanted. so melissa began
presenting her with items one after the other. juice, milk, macaroni, green bean.
sharon greeted each offering with an emphatically negative grunt and foul
facial expressions. finally, when mel showed her a cracker, (this is how mel told it)
she grabbed it in her fist, made a face like 'some kind of demon,' and 'went

and hurled it away with great force.

she is so yummy to me,
her little neck smells like
baked bread fresh from the oven
with a little bit of honey
in the middle
dipped in milk



i'll never be able to refuse her anything anyway. she cuddles up
just like a little otter and, when i saw her last, rolled rather than crawling. rolled,
rolled all over the house.


god. the hours are catching up with me.
feeling like a completely miserable piece of smashed
shit in the road. crash


beautiful outside wish i could enjoy it.





it's nighttime at 3pm.




5pm: no kidding: copied direct from city news service:

Advisory, Beer Spill, URGENT CNS Network Advisory

Eds: The CHP estimates it will take until about 8 this evening to clean up all the beer spilled when an 18-wheeler overturned on a rain-slicked transition road earlier this afternoon.

...ongoing interesting email conversation with
vincent about middle east issues.

vincent was my first love fall of 87.
the first person i met who hates tv as much
as i do.

wildly differing perspectives...if anything
good comes from the dialogue i'll put some of it here..

right now too anxious, tired, lately don't
know why but am picking my fingernails
down to the quick...bleeding...
don't know..
goodnight..goodnight...goodnight...fuck npr for playing
this music bed, it makes me think of
him. &i'd really rather, you know, not.




619 days to go.


mon. oct29,2001

let's work on the
in my

5:39 am

life's too short to bang one's head
against the walls....PATH OF LEAST RESISTANCE
lately is plan A.

blogger rocks...so fun. could i do some web design?....
digging learning html....really interesting to manipulate

urine trouble. .....i get it. ur in trouble.
yer in trouble! as in, YOU'RE IN TROUBLE!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA!
--from a whacked-out internet cartoon monica linked from her site. mr. wong.
i'm kinda sad--i think this is it for the laptop. it was valiant
for the first week..its disks whirred mightily after each crash and i had
long stretches of online bliss at home. but
i think
it's got a disease that only
dr. mark can fix.

went to hollywood yesterday.

sometimes i love this town of
beautiful broken-winged creatures
and circus freaks




i could do without the traffic, though.


kate, leaving a message about how
she's been up since 6:35, says
"we've been up since the crack of my ass, and...."


rumsfeld did make an important
distinction this a.m. when he acknowledged
that terrorism will never go away, but
that response to a multi-national terrorist
network is something different from
the idea of just 'wiping out terrorists'

that being said, how do they know
it will take years as they keep saying?
who can predict how long?

then this pious blather about how
'we need to address root causes' like poverty
......&other bs like cairo is circulating..
these guys were Not poor, or uneducated at all.
and bin laden is definitely not exactly scratching
the ground for cigarette butts.

so while i'm cringing at this campaign,
i'm not exactly convinced that if we stopped
it, and worked through other channels,
that whoever these people are would just
give up their 'holy war' and desist from any
more little surprises like sept. 11th.

i'm just not entirely convinced they'll go away.

i'm not entirely convinced military action is
the best way----but
i'm not convinced it's the worst, either.

why the taliban didn't hand him over: that's what is really curious.

we did wait an entire month, we did work through
channels, we did do all that. i'm not entirely
convinced force wasn't totally, and i mean totally called for.

if not force, then exactly how do we go about finding these characters? intelligence...? i'd rather do that any day. is it feasible? i don't know.

i mean, i really don't know.

what's the most realistic scenario?


among the whole range of friendships in my life
now, all with different emotional dynamics,
there's a recurring type that pops up now and then.
i make friends with people who perceive me as being
at some sort of disadvantage in life compared to them,
..sometimes they play kind of a saviour role emotionally, encouraging me and propping me up;
telling me i should cultivate this or that
talent or intellectual tendency;
but when i actually set about to do that,
and follow where those developments lead me,
--becoming more confident or autonomous in the process-
those friendships don't seem to work as well

i feel kind of resentful about that sometimes--&it tends to get really gnarly when i disagree with those
types over something. as if it's not really
all right to draw conclusions about an issue.

--b/c i draw conclusions &then get emphatic/dramatic and my personality flops around, whereas
they're more used to their personality doing the flopping and/or steering in our dynamic.

that's how it seems, anyway.

happens with guys too.

oh well.


"the terrorists who in 1993 bombed the World Trade Center trained beforehand at a remote site not thirty miles from Three Mile Island -- and afterward threatened to send 150 suicide bombers into America's nuclear plants. "

"The NRC (nuclear regulatory commission) could demand or order (military protection for nuclear plants) instead of just recommending. But it has not done so--even when its recommendation looks to have been ignored. For example, it took well over a month after the World Trade Center fell--and weeks of complaints by citizens, media and politicians--before the Maine Yankee nuclear power plant could be bothered to post a guard and a gate at the road leading into its complex."

"NRC officials counter that there has been no "specific or credible" threat to Maine Yankee, or to any other American nuclear plant. Apparently they were waiting for delivery of an Osama-gram with a big hissing fuse attached. And apparently they finally received something like that on Wednesday, when the NRC announced that a "credible" threat had been made "very specifically" against Three Mile Island. (So just as someone called them to tell them to clean up their website, someone--the CIA? the terrorists?--called them to suggest they look to Three Mile Island.) No details were offered, but some Pennsylvania airports were closed for several hours. By Thursday, the threat was "no longer credible."

---matt bivens for 'the nation'

so i guess my question for the day is,
given all of the above, why our firepower overseas
in the name of 'protecting our country'
when we're so naked here at home?

here's more:

"some see in this a logical conclusion, and new currency for an old argument: that nuclear power is incompatible with democratic freedoms. If one has to scrub the websites, polygraph the employees, call out the guard and shoot down civilian aircraft that stray too close--does that sound like the USA, or the USSR?

And if it sounds too Soviet, then isn't it more sensible to just shut the nuclear plants down?

The Belgian government thinks so, and promises a bill by December 2002 to phase out its seven nuclear power reactors. Germany has already inked such a deal, and plans to replace the lost energy capacity with offshore windmill parks. It's easier than one might think.

In America, despite all of the billions invested in it, nuclear power provides a mere fifth of the nation's electricity--far less than what five leading national laboratories say could be saved almost immediately with a national energy efficiency program, one that could unfold with most citizens never even noticing.

Given this logic, it's not hard to see why the industry would be in a state of denial about security: The very discussion is a lethal Pandora's box. Perhaps this is why a full month after September 11 the gates to Maine Yankee lay open, the NRC website was still packed with design schemata, and it was up to governors, not slow-moving NRC officials, to call out the guard. A clear-eyed discussion of how to defend these plants just might conclude that they are indefensible."

but what i just love is all these nuclear energy proponents who insist 'it's safe it's safe it's safe it's safe.'

yeah, as long as nothing unexpected happens? like a jetliner flying into san onofre?
everything risky is 'safe' as long as the right people are in control of what happens to it, but
with the weird shit that happens in the world, are we always assured of that?


how THE FUCK can anyone with a brain and a family to care about NOT SEE THAT?!!!!
DOESN'T TAKE A FREAKIN ROCKET SCIENTIST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!GOD!


friends i've fought with and stayed close
to despite the conflicts are the ones i feel
like i know better, somehow...

it's great to get along with someone when things
are going well, but stress and conflict do reveal other

one of my longtime friends--four years--hasn't called me in four months ...why, i don't know. we never fought. but a conflict came up and she just disappeared.

it's funny, because i fought with 'him' all the time;
and i know she thought she was a much better friend to me
than he was; but now i wonder.

when someone's seen your worst side, your absolute
ugly fucking screaming meemies,
and still likes you, that's something,
isn't it?

remembering when kate and i got into it after
one day when i promised i'd come over, got drunk
and blew her off. and she screamed at me over the
phone and hung up on me

it's dysfunction junction down here in our neck
of the woods, but at least we can talk about it.


talk to me talk to me talk to me talk to me


620 days to go


sunday, oct.28, 2001

first the ftp nightmare, then formatting the tables.
but i've got MY OWN BLOG now.

and, what's cool, it's interactive.
more people will see it, and comment,

that's the case, i can make it more anonymous.

so, here, i'll be more revealing,
and copy sections of the entries into blogger
so you guys get the personal version, and there's a public version as well....

cake and eating it too, i think. i like it a lot.

curious about blogger? check it out.

click here to check out blogger's journaling website.


thinking about grandiosity and how
dangerous it can be at worst,
exasperating and pitiful at its least damaging.

wondered if there's something of the
not only in his 64-year quest to find the perfect love,
but in my notion that he is the perfect love for me.

it's easy to be a fanatic about something intangible............or
about an image of yourself or someone else or an idea of 'how things could be' that isn't quite true
or might even be fatally flawed....





sat, oct.27,2001

so much writing b/c so much
is internal lately.

hoping that
as time goes by,
there's more external...

grey saturday.it's
funny how exhaustion
compounds itself. i can
feel yesterday's long hours
in my bones.


bought the neighborhood couch
from the guys next door.
it's pretty ugly, in
a neutral way. my place looks
less elegant with it;
but it's reeeeeeaaaaalllllly comfy.
would be a great makeout couch...hehe..

said they bought the couch from the guys
across the street, when they moved in a year
ago. so the sofa is hopping from one
place to another.

anyway, they seem pretty nice.
they're moving to london, she
said their work visas are expired.

and, so what if all they
do is dishes, and the laundry,
and fuck.

i let the dishes pile up,
let the laundry pile up,
and think about fucking.

i'd say they're way ahead of me.