Monday, March 24, 2003





My Dog:



Self-denial and wartime just don't mix. Let's go get some syphillis and some lung-cancer. Fuck work, I'm going to Atlantic City."



(thanx, twinkle twinkle blah blah.)



New Yorkers have an excuse now to be ridiculous, self-indulgent whores, and I'm kinda jealous. So I'm using the General Terror Vibe as an excuse to eat whatever the fudge I want, whenever; to smoke as much as I want; drink too much; stay up all night playing guitar; and generally get reacquainted with my favorite sacramental poisons. Feels mortal, confusing, exciting and untenable. Feels like life. Somewhere along the line in childhood I got the idea that Real Life would announce its arrival by an all-pervading sense of order. I would understand the layers of experience coiled inside any given moment, and they would all make sense in context, perfect and complete, forever and ever, amen. Getting over that illusion is a daily effort. Soon as experience feels elegant and balanced, something happens. Then I gotta shake hands with chaos once again.



Sometimes chaos itself is so seductive I want to surrender to it too, just let entropy turn my house, my body and my relationships into a map of chaos. That never works either.



Anyway. Don't you wish you could be of use to a soldier? Does anyone know how you can do something good for a soldier? Do they need cds or penpals?



Was disappointed the CNN war correspondent Kevin Sites got his blog shitcanned. Generally, though, I find this particular moment so overwhelmingly stressful, I have lost almost all interest in newsy media of any sort, 'cept radio. Take the Oscars. I just couldn't get it up to give enough of a shit to watch. You know?



You know how that feels?



Is that depression or self-preservation, or both? It's all too much, like the Beatles said. Cept they were talking about the blazing glory of Love.



And love itself--how do you begin to grasp it, when it's too big to even feel all at once on every level--both romantic love and the big all-love? I'm not going to even try. I'm just going to give thanks for it. Maybe that's the best way to understand it. Give thanks. I'm so thankful for love. I wish I could hold it close enough, wish i could taste the depth of expression in a single flower, even, all the way, much less the dimensions of energy between two people.



Whoa... think it's time to sleep. It's been a long week of wartime partying and my fingertips are frayed.



Stay gold,

kate

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