myself included

people

are

incredibly

repetitive

I wrote words about you
like shortening my name and
on couch, on couch

did you get my attention on purpose?

there's a whole picking over this burning vinyl
but I
have thought 'no'
every time

I want to invite the neighbours over

maybe you can come say hello?
I have friendly sheets
the colour of your jersey
the season is...

your eyes are sleepy and
I could
but
and
I just
wasn't
there isn't
we can't--
endings,
and

you seem older
numbers have
and I
could we
we just
hello, and
and--

did you put me in
the middle
on purpose?
I just..
I can't--

what's the difference between
nice
and
ordinary
?

Making visible that small part of my legs
from under-knee to
barely modest
I like to see my own skin

I have an inconsolable list
that falls over every Friday
I'll take anything
I'll take it all
I'll give

But I'm stubborn as fuck
don't even try put that bottle there
it goes in the recycling bin, "yo" ...
I can't stand your sexist jokes
and
how are we even under the same roof
wearing purple
(though I've abstained, since)

can I take some parts of you
can I
can I
take some parts
I don't want all of anything
I want some of everything
I want impossible contradictions
if they exist in me, maybe they exist in another?
I want threes and nines
I--

I
and I
and I
I can't
I can
I have
I should I
will

I'm purchasing the parts of me that don't get shown
I'm slipping into previous hallways
I think about being two years ago
and
my God
that was two years ago
when I loved and
liked
and fucked
and fought
and felt
and wrapped newspaper around power poles
around bodies
had my first hierarchical inhaling
I've always been about doing, not saying...

I feel like the Japanese girl
in that film ... (?)
who opens her leg
and defies Western eyes
with her sex
I have legs
I have all the parts to tick off the list
I have no illness and all the wounds
I want some cover
I,
I

and I:
"how's Tori?!"
"who's Tori...?"
Oh...

Noise control came over
because my monologue was
screaming at the baby.

cellar / corridor

There I am
at the very end of the shuttle-walk
space cat
space creature
space gremlin
scuttle / squAWK / hahhhhhh....

Donning my red-rimmed glasses
"NO EXIT"

Coming ziggity-zag at you --
BANG !
I will shatter the sides of this
comfort corridor
I conduct experiments
on you, audence

sleepover

My living room couch is
cocoon to a silent creature
Housed previously in engulfing hammocks
(outdoors, blue to match his view)
Small curves in his mouth-corners
What is happening behind his eyelids...?

He's against
one edge
of the fold-out bed, as if
making room
for another body...

The Goddess of Avalon --
maybe that's whose footprints he's
traipsing through
wanting to thread
her thick dark hair through
his own

Upturning his mouth-corners to her
Above her and then above her
and
above her.

Today I got told I probably have PCOS.

JOKE'S ON YOU TUESDAY, I DON'T WANT BABIES ANYWAY !

That old game where I hang your washing out but without the sex beforehand.

I don't own this house, I am of it

I conjured this raucous
I summonsed it into this house
I envisioned cluttered chaos and hallucinations
which include:
campfires reaching up through the branches of the lemon tress
Helen Clark returns again for Prime Minister
myself, one of the boys
myself, a girl, with one/some/several... ?
collected visions enlightening the sickly pastel walls
someone else's craft crafted into a coffee table
treasures being found in the jungle-esque garden
those treasures granting me meta-human energies
dusted remnants on the bathroom counter for Sunday morning cure-scavenges
a general sensation of being created, re-shaped, morphed, re-distributed...

And amazingly
it all sat inside my living room
staring
staring right at me
staring at the walls' visions
(visions staring through myself, the future)

They said, "let's do something"
so I left the house.

activities that support the traditions

Today I watched a video about female orgasm and how it could be used to bring about more connection amongst the human race. I thought about how all my injuries have manifested on the left side of my body and remembered a teacher saying once that the left side is the "feminine" side of the body. Then I went to class in the evening and got pulled up for holding tension in my left shoulder.

I sat outside (slightly outside of) a circle of boys
noticed my place
noticed how fitting I felt amongst this gender
and still: incongruous
contemplated the success of my male peers, even in a
female-dominated sector
because of a female-dominated sector
I wished to have a body that could take a litre of vodka and
still fly across the room
(not because of wanting to drink, but for the
carelessness that seemed apparently without consequence
and the abandon attached to this capacity)

I saw the bronzed "Fiji Me" billboard and I thought, "they have chosen a woman because she is relevant marketing material for both genders - and despite this, still not holding power in the world as much as she does mounted up there."

I recalled a conversation with a work colleague about minorities. I considered my gay male friends, teachers. And how even they, in their minority, had advantage -- and moreover, still, subconsciously, unaware, unknowingly, hypocritically, asserted their right to authority over me -- as the dominant sex.

I considered that even in claiming my equal right to casual sex, I am still the half that carries the majority of riskful consequences, without choice. I considered that though I can have a career and a family (if I wanted it), this is in itself a burden and restraint. So again, in this freedom, I am still bound.

 I sat inside/out the circle -- which was, opressively, in my own house -- rearranged my hair, forced my attentive hand fixed by my side, resented myself for doing so, resented my sex for having to consider such things, resented myself for resenting my sex. Realised, ultimately, I am merely with any more power than I was in 1893.

No matter how good home is, I always enjoy being elsewhere more.

note to self

"... With their ruthless drive for success, 35/8s have a repressed power that can at times make other people uncomfortable; this power sometimes frightens 35/8s themselves

...  need to clear subconscious self-sabotage ...

discipline leads to personal power and self-control (rather than attempts to control others) ... many 35/8s get scattered trying to do too much, diluting their efforts by pursuing too many opportunities. Focus amplifies their effectiveness.

...These individuals also tend to swing from extreme dependence when feeling self-doubt, to extreme independence when feeling aggressive.

... can feel inhibited about expressing their feelings ... this may manifest in talking abstractly.

They generally don't want to be bound or tied down to conventions. They are used to making the rules, not following them...

The fulfillment of 35/8s lies not in their awesome mental capacity, but in their capacity to love and sacrifice.

... In many cases, 35/8s have difficulty sustaining long-term relationships until they are thirty or forty years old; before that time, they tend to fall into power struggles, as well as issues concerning dependence and independence. Although 35/8s can be dedicated and loving partners, their work is almost always the centre of their lives, and it helps if they can find self-sufficient partners who understand their dedication to their work from the outset.

I am best when I am acting in service to others.

you had a name but I forgot it

Of estimates first at eleven; and then by the sun, nine; and by the watch finally at seven-thirty; here I am. With the birds, spluttering over their harmonica chirps with my hack. Shitting over their morning rituals with my own repercussions of nocturnal habits. Holding down the faucet that is gushing out piss and whiskey, in my sleep.

There are four sets of closed curtains on the street opposite me. And to think I have struggled with nine ante meridiem the last two mornings.

I am like little what's-her-face whispering "thirty, flirty and thriving" ... wanting the self-assurance of age. To truly not give at all what the rest of the earth-place thinks (instead of just testifying such).

Father said yesterday, "have a little bit of drink to flush out the cobwebs -- that's what you do, isn't it?" So I had a little. A little by my conservative country's standards. I had a 'little' for my generation's limits ... crying excess and "more!" for everything. I had a fitting amount for a human burdened and blessed with abundance, number eight loss of power -- given up to that which overwhelms. Ruled by the glutton of my head, heart, eyes and tongue. I see it all and take none in. Or I see some of it and take every last.

There is no barrier on what you can and can't do when you are some other you.

Imagine if I dropped the "e" off the end of my name. How gloriously exotic I would look on paper: Natali, Natal; Natali. One less character. Six-figure name. Better than a six-figure salary, for my gender.

Oh, and here comes the courier. To deliver a reminder of my last sanity, happy (are they the same?). The parcel's a bit shabby and shit and has a hole ripped in it but that's ok, it's ok. It looks like a tiny roughed gemstone that's been hurled around amongst a burnt out garden of weed and rocks.

Oh yeah -- and I received good news yesterday. That's something to cheer up about, right?

sink (swim)

I always thought this was only offered in Newtown
I forgot Newton
They can probably see my fresh eyes
but I don't feel embarrassed staring

besides,
it's not staring it's
Looking Intently

I know living here would feed my curiosity
curiosity would feed my creativity
and creativity might eat my pocket
or eat me
or feed me or
both

and as they say of New York
I either drown or flourish

Auckland is drowning me