Right?! Alex Montague epitomizes everything supernaturally-comsically-unreally right about California. I have it on repeat, she totally goes there! This is a poem I’ve been working on/ reading recently and it’s for her. That’s totally me screaming “Fuck Yeah!!” at the end of that!!! I ❤ you Alex Montague!!!!!
The Fly or Flies or Whatever!
If I was to point blame, I'd direct a finger at the humidity and the heat which I've never been a fan of, I prefer grey skies and boys in flannel, simple boys that don't want too much, boys with bad haircuts, guys that hate the gym, boys that can figure out how I can quit smoking, guys that want to get me drunk and fuck me, guys that aren't at all like me, obviously, I'm just trying to discract myself, while spending way too much time thinking how impossible it is to write in my room…and really, I'm not certain those are the kind of guys I like, how can I be certain about anything, whenever I sit down in my room to reflect and write a fucking little pesky fly lands on me and I grab the swatter and the next thing I know I realize I've spent an hour swatting flies and then I get distracted by feeding my cats while trying to determnine the cause for all these fucking flies that have infested my new room. Or worse, I decide to go to the corner store and get more fly ribbons which may eventually lead to thrift shops and 99cent stores shopping for heels, make up, expensive "immortality juices", and accessories and everything else I really don't need which tends to result in the day being totally ruined. The cats are a big reason the flies are here this summer, but their food and shit-filled litter box aren't the only reason they're here. I'm pretty sure they're coming in through the door cuz I see them in the starewell, so I'm not entirely convinced that a screen in my window would solve the problem…and it's way too hot to shut the window and, let's face it, I'm too lazy to ever go get a screen and install it, I'm really only capable of doing that which is irrelevant or for a lover, cuz I'm a total idiot. Am I wrong to think most guys would not let a problem like this be a problem? Is there something more pro-active I could be doing, beyond pinning up fly ribbon traps and chasing them around with a swatter? Swarms of them build up every few days and then I really have to spend time chasing them around the apartment swatting them…but I've kind of found a thrill in hoaning the nack for swatting flies. It's also a great excersise in hand-eye coordination which is an important skill-set for drunks to remember to develope. I've noticed when they land on the fly ribbon they give into death pretty quickly and die with their comrades without much of a fuss. As I watch them give into death with their comrades I become overwhelmed with a feeling of valor and wonder whether or not I'm wrong not to try and coexist with them. Should I coexist with them? Sometimes they wake me up, crawling across my leg in the morning when I'm concentrating on dreaming and scheming up my extraterrestrial alter-ego that lives in warp tunnels and strange lights and long metalic corridors… I don't know what nyc ya'll are walking around in but mine is gettin real eerie…there's this strange giant horse that keeps showing up, about once a week in my dreams, everytime it arrives I instantly have a gut reaction, like "what the fuck, it's that fucking horse again", that giant horse that stares at me with the eyes of Satan and whenever I allow my eyes to fixate on theirs, they come running full speed to kill me but there is always some weird guy who saves me at the last minute by pulling me into a secret sex party and distracts me from the horse. And once I look away from the horse and focus on some guy playing with their nipples as some other guy eats their ass or whatever the horse wanders away. What the fuck does that mean? I do know that killing the flies with the swatter is pretty instantaneous and against my values, which are anti-violent. But who always gives into their values? Once they started landing on me in my sleep I couldn't refrain from killing them…at first I thought I had bed bugs which really stressed me out…am I wrong to think most guys would never have ever thought twice about killing a fly…the other day I saw a fly get caught in a small spider's web as I was making coffee and I quickly realized it was the first, and, so far, only fly I've seen REALLY fight for its life. Whenever the spider got close it furiously beat its wings and caused the whole web to spasm and by the spiders erratic, running back-and-forth across the web, away from the fly movement, it seemed like by beating its wings, the fly made climbing across the web difficult for the spider. The spider even seemed to have a "what the fuck just die so I can eat you" psychic aura, and as soon as the spider retreated the fly calmed. The first couple times it happened I figured the fly had died and then again the spider would make its way toward the fly and I figured now I'd get to see the spider bite into the fly's head but then again the fly would beat its wings. I felt like a little kid, curious if this would upset me…but couldn't refrain from the act of watching…but then about the third time I realized how upset I'd be if I knew I was going to be another beings dinner. It's sort of the worst way to go, I think, as I would hate for my conciousness to end so another's could continue…it's the reason I'm always striving to be vegan and why I'm so paranoid whenever I swim out far into the ocean, which I really love to do, but I can never shake the feeling a great white shark is going to make me their snack. I guess it's just my ego which believes itself to be so much greater than a snack…however, if I were to die some other way, I wouldn't mind my body being used as food. It's my secret wish to somehow become like the defiant ninja-mermaid-warrior-scout who slits its belly so the rest of the pod can escape the demonic appetite of megalodon. As Megalodon comes racing to devour the ninja mermaid, ninja-mer just sort of dissipates into tranquility: to me that's love. And I just fucking hope the pod got away so that beautiful life wasn't lost in vain. I also really wonder if megalodon would actually be at all full after eating one mermaid? Seems like megajerk would need to eat the ninja then race off and eat the rest of the pod. Not sure how fast mermaids can swim in comparison to a megalodon shark though?! Maybe the fucking ninja mermaid was a romantic idiot unable to see the whole pod die, which I totally understand, but maybe the romantic merninja should have let megalodon devour the weaklings so the strongest could survive?! Maybe then the fate of the mer's would have been a happier one. I just don't want to be reduced to being only food: it's the ego again talking…for a moment I even thought about releasing the fly…so its fate could maybe be a little less irksome, if that's what you'd call the quick death-by-swatter and "maybe" it'd be painless? Really, how could I ever know?! Felt like I was just an airhead watching the dance of the fly beating its wings whenever the spider got too close and the spider continually running back and forth across its web, which, for obvious reasons, would probably be really fucking annoying for a little spider…which would normally please me as I have only recently begun to enjoy spiders and find cohabitating with them not a challenge…obviously this is a new alliance due to "the fly problem"…and I realized that this little spider who I've since befriended and often say hi to as I make my coffee "in the morning", showed me, "This is it"… this is the way it all unfolds…the fly beating its wings within the spider web is as good as its gonna get…fly probably thought it was great flying around but now, this moment fighting within the web, is as good as it's gonna get, this is the universe showing me this is it, this coffee is meta, nothing will ever go your way, nothing will always triump, it always comes back to The Never Ending Story, being alive within the universe is a chaotic fuck up, everything we want is an illusion, just as our lives are, our lovers are, our friends are, which is, secretly, the thinspiration I needed to stop running and go back to my room, look away from the glass of tequila, fuck all the flies, masturbation can make me forget that something is crawling across my foot, and I can write.
“home, sweat home”