entropy song

October 11, 2017 § Leave a comment

It’s finally fall, break out the pumpkin spice mothballs and the cinnamon heartworm meds

paint your nails with mauve formaldehyde and mash a highlighter into your corpse-like paleness, the blue grey undereye slices

recline on the floor.

I dreamt of New Zealand with the landscape of north Florida. Sandy soil and gravel, dry grasses and dirty lakes.

But IRL there was no fall there. I spent my days kneeling on the warm ground, snatching any bit of red, orange, rust, ochre, saffron, blood. I strung them up like clues. 

if there is an upside to this government nightmare, it’s made all of us more conscious of our side profiles. neck tightening exercise bands are selling like hot cakes, hot cakes are selling at an average pace.

My head has been hurting for a few days straight. our television doesn’t do dark colors well, so i can focus on the pixelated edges when i am suffocating under cousin Matthew’s smooth cheekjowls, waiting for him to die already.

If you try and think about your uterus stretching, your body sinking. I sing the body neglected. Why have children? Google it.

The bathroom feels dirty at all times. The ghosts in the crumbled urine cake floor. The family before us lived a joyful life and it did not involve sealing the tiled floor properly. 

each decision is a conscious delay: the floor will rot, the house will undo, the body will decay, but if we leave in time, we won’t have to see it.



July 15, 2017 § Leave a comment

there’s a lubricant for the inside of your nose. keep it moist and rubbery, in the style of the astronauts. it’s not a long story why i am considering buying this, but it’s boring and the thought of it makes my nostrils crack in anticipation.

i’m wasting my summer like a 12-year-old. maybe it’s great. it doesn’t matter how many lip butters one researches. trying to feel something resembling readiness. 

i find myself standing in the kitchen thinking about how many leftover wedding favor m&ms i can eat before it’s a bad night. i downloaded some mindfulness fuckery so i can be more aware of myself:

sitting on the couch, tabbing through netflix thumbnails, and then worrying about my writing before standing and walking towards the m&ms.

those thirty seconds of my life are missing and i need them back.

this world could end, for sure. i am getting used to the idea. i am imagining donald trump explaining on tv why i’m not a true patriot. i’m ready to run out into the woods with my brawny-man-man and barter gold with strangers.

i’m ready with my nose lubed up with space jam and my lips smothered in occlusive hippie cream.

Where Am I?

You are currently browsing entries tagged with anxiety at Good Pie To You.