ardor of the hardest order

tonight, there will be a lunar eclipse that shatters much and rattles many...or at least that's what susan miller has said. i'm not sure i could rattle much more than i've already rattled. and carved. i've carved shapes out of myself and placed them over a fire - as a light snack, a post-dinner bite, a morning boost. all of that was unnecessary and still i have no idea how to be any other way. i rarely learn from my own mistakes even if the taste of my own foot in my own mouth is by now familiar - masochistically so...regardless, it happens that most of the the time i am more in love with my own love letters than any words i've ever received back. i read my own words go out and i dwell on them, their shape, their tone, how they match, any misspellings or the actual ways that i misspell...i find them wholesome, honest, satisfying...the conversations i have in my head have far eclipsed those that have actually happened and i guess, as such, the words i get back will always be disappointing if you've already made a guest appearance in my head (by the way - you played yourself very, very well)...

i've long wanted this fluffy rug...it's always been like that, feels odd to say - i want something, and i fixate on it until it's purged. in wanting it, i imagine how it could flatter or help me, how much i would love it, how it would look on, what it feels like, how it compliments my legs, if the color is for me or if it's not about color, how long it would take until i no longer care?

outside my window plays a sad christmas song that squeaks over and over and again and again on loop; it seems to come from the neighbors' bush, decorated with mini-lights of blue and green and white. on the train home i read a joan didion essay about finding meaning through narrative (there may be none) - if we can't find meaning in our stories then we have had nothing. and if we can't make stories or string together coincidences we feel like there has been nothing and nothing makes sense as a stand alone event. inside i drown out the sad christmas music with bob dylan. he asks about sweet marie, and where she is tonight? he's at her house, but can't unlock it. i will be asleep when the moon eclipses the earth. most likely i will awake when the sun moves me, or when the tiger mauls me...

here is the beautiful mauler and his magnificent paws - (with an old classmate of mine).