Tuesday, March 31, 2009

an attempt at collaboration


i don't know why but what i want to post won't post so i'm just going to paste it in the comments, fuck this

love your abuser

pt1- Love Your Abuser is the 2007 debut release from Lymbyc Systym & this post was originally a simple recommendation that you should listen to it, buy it if you like, tell your friends about it. I've been playing it recently. It carries a weight and yet, is concise. And I wanted to share it. listen
This is what I came across in a brief search of the name. I don't copy it here to be humourous, but because things like context, communication, interpretation speak to how things work- what things are.
pt2-Unhappy In love with your abuser

Is it normal to have feelings and still be in love with someone that sometimes calls you names, screams at you and hits you or could it possibly be insanity that allows you to still stay with them (I'm a guy by the way)?  
Hi whatwentwrong,

Welcome to eNotAlone!
Yes, it is normal and common. Too many people stay with abusers and are slowly broken. Myself has experience with abusive parents and wife.
Your abuser needs help, counseling or therapy and you possibly too.
If you like you can tell us more about you how feel as well as more about your abuser.
We always will be here for you. 

Unfortunately she sees nothing wrong with her behavior as she mentions how it feels when you're stress and too much is going on. She also says that I should know clear to get out of the way whenever she comes drunk as drunkness also causes you to react wild. That leaves me to take all the blame while she changes the subject when she's calm again.

She behaves like most abusers. She refuses help but You hurt.
She should balance herself. Perhaps she has alcohol issues. 
This can go on for years and decades and often get's worse as victims may get abusive too. 
Short and simple, she gets help and fixed or you better consider to leave. You deserve better.

It all started in our second year and 4 months into our relationship (now it's been almost 3 1/2 years). So it's now been one year. Now I have scratches almost all over my face due to her long and sharp nails, but I also did get punch and on couple of occassions I receive a black eye. I have never answer back though as I would never do anything to hurt her.
I did try leaving several times a few months ago but she would come begging and crying to me to come back that it will be different or would say that I won't find another girl that loves me as she does.

Oh boy, You are in trouble: [Only registered and activated users can see links. ]
Also read: Wicked.

I read it and sadly she does have almost all of the characteristics in the article. The only difference is that she only acts violent with me and not in front of other people, not even in front of friends and does not apologize anymore like she use to on the first couple of times she hit me, rather she turns nice afterwards.
The more I'm reading the article the more sick I'm starting to feel and the more I'm thinking of ending it for good, not returning.

Thumbs up You have a future Son!
I am very sorry about your feelings now, but I am also happy you came here and see the light! She can't love you!
All you can be is a loving healthy partner to your loving healthy partner. You have a future and deserve better! 
I suggest you:
  • Advise her to seek treatment
  • Split up with her ASAP
  • Enforce strict NC=No Contact
  • Post a thread about your breakup in a related forum, you will get lot's of help there!Also read the wicked link about balancing yourself! 
I focus on mental health issues, if you need help about breaking up, or anything, just ask or make a new thread in a related forum. 
We always will be here for you! 

It is normal to love your abuser. The love doesn't just vanish unfortunately. I just filed for formal separation leading to divorce. He called me names, he threatened to hit me, he ripped up our wedding pictures, waved a knife in my face and threatened to kill me, my family and himself. He blamed me for everything and blamed me for "making" him that mad. And it hurts to go because I still love him.
I deserve to be loved better though.

Reading the loser article above may help you understand and ease your pain. Please remember that losers are incapable of love as they do not love themselves!
Yes, you deserve to be loved..
Not loving oneself really is the biggest loss in life  and it is sad that abusers often destroy ones love of oneself.
functions as  cultural memory 
punctuated with smilies 


Monday, March 30, 2009


Sometimes the

of a poem, dialog, sentence, thought, rhyme, quip or consideration
is less diminishing than the

Monday, March 16, 2009

With Your Seatbacks in Their Upright and Locked Position

Two spaces to my left, in the aisle seat, thighs and love handles spilling out from the constraints of the armrests, Red Sox fidgets with his seatbelt, snapping the metal clasp over and over again as he stares at the flight attendant's ass. His mother (I must assume that she is his mother: K-Mart clothes in hospital green and khaki, wispy hair, painstakingly applied makeup, and that unmistakable air of patient, loving tolerance for hopeless cases), sitting in the middle, opens her book. Rebecca, reads the title stamped across the top of each page, the author's name opposite, in font that is too flowery for this book to be anything even close to a worthwhile read. I surreptitiously scan a few lines - Emmeline is losing the love of her life, it appears, and nothing she says will change his mind.

Hey mom. Mom, hey. Red Sox (so named for his absurdly supportive outfit) taps the page. Look. He shows her the display of his cell phone - not the best, newest model, but nice enough that in a couple months he'll have changed it out - and I suppose she smiles in response to whatever it is. He launches into an explanation of the backstory, which I tune out in favor of the more enjoyable occupation of unfairly judging this man, who must be nearly thirty, for traveling with his mother to and from baseball games.

He finishes speaking, his eyes again on the flight attendant (now coming back up the aisle, so he has a chance to check out her breasts as well), and his mother nods, laughs quietly, and again opens her book.

The seatbelt light blinks on.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009


Camera: angle one: the pupil retracts causing a flame
Drunk in isolation off a gender-neutral friend of mine
They clapped in response, walked in silent rows
The two of them captured their scattered immature lusts
On a bus of lonely rowdy passengers who knew fame

Blood pouring from an inner pore, you were well tame
As he reached his hand towards your hesitant pant line
You told them to behave, never disobey directed flow
Public drinking until blood blushed their exposed busts
It was his last chance at redemption: a missed train

Until you fell in the cellar a moment before she came
But you were no longer drunk on University time
Your love for them kept discipline a continual low
And they still couldn’t handle this blooming age of trust
So he sank down, a confession of his ego and pain


Czar has two big projection screens on either wall, stage left and right. During bands' sets, they project live footage of them performing.

For "Agorophobia", the band had us watch them only via the screen directly to our left.

Then, for a guitar solo, they had us turn all the way around to view the projection to the right.


Witchcraft & Externalities

We were sprawled like intellectual lions on the mattress, our limbs criss-crossing each other.  My head was buried in Paths to a Green World as it absorbed the tenets of sustainable development and externalities - effects of an action outside the closed loop of its genesis and perpetuation.  Hers rested in the House of Seven Gables, murmurs of witchcraft walking the alleys of her mind.
"What's that play about the witches?" she asked.
"The Crucible," I answered offhandedly.
I paused in my reading.
"Arthur Miller," I said to myself.
Another pause.
"Death of a Salesman," I remarked, fond remembrance flowing past me.
She stared at me, wide-eyed, open-mouthed, and probably clichely in at least a few other discernible ways.
"What?" I ask, and she tells me I've just answered all three of the questions she wanted to ask.  Witchcraft and externalities, indeed.


Earlier today I decided that my social project for, like, the next 2-3 months would be convincing as many people as I can that I'm a thesis student. To do so I'd interject frustrated plaints, typical of students working on a thesis, into everyday dialogue, e.g., "Oh man, I have to have my draft in to my sponsor by Thursday!", or e.g., "Yeah, I'm tired because I had to wake up early to meet with my thesis sponsor." Or even e.g., "Oh shit, my draft is due yesterday!"I might be muddling the thesis-idiom, so pardon me. But the point is I want to thesis and be done. The point is also I am activating repressed pretensions to capability. The point is I'm done. 

creativity zapped

They enticed me into a night out by swearing they'd seen not one familiar face the week before, and I dressed up to eject myself from this insipid inbred bubble... so of course the cars lined up with ours at each last light teemed with random mixes of cliques and of course the hostess sat us in the corner cluster of just-legal sake drinkers we yes, knew, and even the homeless man with a red cup of beer (he begged for refills?) and one of our cigarettes in his mouth now asked "is there some college party around here" but ours was defiantly private until... the bar and just turning around, bound for that bubble again because every last face that made it horrible was, apparently, out.

Idiot at Sarasota News and Books

I was at News and Books and some guy in his late twenties came in and sat down across the aisle from these two girls.  I think he knew them from somewhere, or at least I hope so, because he started talking really loudly to them across the aisle.  He has on nikes and jeans that were too short and was speaking extremely loudly about his girlfriend: "Yeah, we're getting pretty serious, we're at that point where we're super intimate, but haven't told one another we're in love . . . she moved down here for me . . . she's a doctor" etc etc etc.  I tried to concentrate on my work but his voice had a certain asshole edge to it which made it impossible for me not to listen.  Suddenly, to my horror and intense pleasure he started talking about how easy it is for him to seduce women, citing one example in particular.  "yea," he drawled, "it's wasn't too hard for me.  I started talking to her and asked her if she'd ever read Sartre" (pronounced Sart) "and she said 'no' so I just started talking to her about existentialism and that was it."  This was, primarily, a stupid experience.  However, it was uncanny in the fact that such outrageously pretentious losers do exist.  


Josh Zimmerman has a homeopathy practice

The other day at the cafe, Josh Zimmerman came in, ordered his usual, a coffe, regular, and asked me if it was my bike sitting outside. It was. I said it was. He said I should be worried about it getting stolen, being on 41 and all. I rang him up. $1.61 and he gave me 2. I gave him his change, then without missing a beat, he said, "I put a buck in there for ya, by the way.", looking at the tip cup. After a very long pause, as if I was supposed to thank him, he followed up, saying,  "Because, I know it's hard times out there."
More recently Josh came in to tell us that no one liked it, back when he used to be a reporter. He showed us a website he was working on for his homeopathy practice. The homepage had four links on a toolbar and a large headshot. Nothing else.

Mocking the ShamWow Guy

   I watched a commercial with the ShamWow guy on it last weekend. He's not quite as... er, commanding... as our classic friend, the inimitable Billy Mays, but boy can that man sell what is essentially a glorified washcloth. Why does he always wear that silly headset, though? Is he actually conducting a phone conversation with a close friend using his Bluetooth, and the cameras just happened to catch him in all his washcloth-promoting splendor? And how does he make his chin so prominent? Silly man.
   Later that week, though, I stumbled upon a bewsite that discussed the ShanWow guy's crazyintense past and feud with Scientology. Now I feel kind of bad for mentally mocking him every time he comes onscreen (but not that bad).

Suzy Woltmann


by Joslyn Persh

Today, I met a woman with only seven fingers. It looked like the rest of them crawled back into her hands. She still had some thumbs, so she was still a person. I don't know how she'll be able to get married without a ring finger, but at least she can still hold a pencil.



so i walk into walgreens because i need to buy batteries for the light on my bicycle so i can see where i'm riding in the dark, and as the walgreens checkout girl gives me my total, she says, do you want to try this new chocolate bar? there's a special going on right now, two bars for just four dollars, and i say no, no thanks, no bars for me today, just the batteries, and she says, but are you sure? this chocolate bar is really good, and i say, no not today, thanks though, maybe next time, and she seems disappointed, but as i put the money on the counter, i notice in the right corner of the counter a box of chocolate bars called thingamajigs that look oddly familiar, and something makes me think of that new burger king commercial that flashes back to the old burger king commercial, and i say, are those the new bars that are on sale? those bars right there? and she says, yeah, those are them, they're really good, and i say, but those bars aren't new, those bars are really old, i mean, those bars been around a long time, and she says, no those are whatchamacallits, these are thingamajigs.