Alfredo = cheese!?

"Gray. The light dimming the asphalt. Steps hollow at the top of a fire-escape. My steps are not ready to be abandoned yet, I think, as they shuffle defeated and timid along the stairwell located conveniently beneath me. The walking...our constant motion in its singular form.

I'm feeling prostrated at the moment, and dumb or powerless--either. And tired, of course. Anyway."


[I have to wake up at 4:30 tomorrow morning--hallelujah-amen! (Lemme-tell-ya-Lord-Almighty!!) Et cetera. My crazy dog's having her teeth cleaned, but she doesn't know it yet.]

Faretheewell folk,
-Talthea (12/26/06)

"We laughed because the world is absurd, and beAutiful, and small." (-Ms. Ani D.)

God, I quit my freakin' job today, lemme tell ya. (Well, one of them.) That's all i hafta say about that. Except: getting paid twice as much is not worth being unrecognizable to yourself.


That is all. Just recording a bit of a landmark / milestone / headstone. The last six months could look hellish if i wrote them out that way (-.o) but I won't. And anyway, "nothing is ever as sad as it seems." (-Noe Venable) Seriously now.


Farethwell folk,
-Talthea (12/21/06)

She's picky about her conquerers.

We've gotta be all wrong about this notion of "the existence of god". For after all, all "existence is equivalent" here.

[We have to be honest all the time!]

But think about this wall. Its color; its wounds--their origin and all the time until this moment encompassing every other person enough to sit here. And more, it sits here in the dark hours too, every night being slightly altered from the night before.

Are we talking about the physical? No, we're talking about time--seen only through its wear. (Its quality of wearing down.)

So how does existence relate to time, if its state of equivalency seems based on the present? (Meaning that everything here is equally accidental...the whole at any given moment, [she's careful with her destroyers] and only as for instance, this one now.)

Time's breath moves slowly. Possibly the only way we can relate to it is in the monotony of our routines--subtle changes gradually changing everything, and too small to notice more than much.


Faretheewell folk,
-Talthea (12/12/06)

"Fire!" screameth the pilot light.

Humor, or something... Nah.

I saw a coupla kids today with their mothers: one on a bus, the other at the bus stop--I knew them both from daycare at the old women's shelter in town. I saw each on slightly-separate occasions, and then I got to see them recognize each other.

The little girl hummed all the way from the station to her stop, loud enough to serenade a bus-full of early risers. When she saw her friend's mama out the window (instantly known) she got excited and her mama helped her lift both arms up and out to yell out, "Hola-hola!!" before she lost her chance.

That's all. I don't know, it was just pretty nice.

Farethewell folk,
-Talthea (12/11/06)

Humpty Dumpty.

"I don't know how I manage this, but there is so much that I know. While I'm still within the realization that it may as well all be wrong."

(I know that I can convince myself of this, for instance. But I also know what beauty looks like when I can and cannot see it. and I know how silly we're all being, all the time, in everything that we do. And I know that I can change in positive and negative terms alike, but that the line between the two isn't even there.)

[My feet are cold but my pants are soft on my thoughtful thighs.]

Remember something of worth, perhaps--but it's so hard to write about the things in my life seriously, so small and petty and fickle they be. Like my reflection in the mirror, shifting before my eyes from beauty to repulsiveness, caught ever in between, and yet so obviously both at once.


Faretheewell folk,
-Talthea (12/10/06)

Does anybody in the universe know who sings this damn, freaking, wonderful song!?

Everybody said, "My friend let me warn you, there's earthquakes and rattlesnakes and terrible things."

And it's a long, long way from Clinchport to California in the absence of a strong, reliable set of wings.

But Annabelle she came with me, she rode by my side. Sometimes when I got sleepy I'd let Annabelle drive.

We rode across this nation, we rode a long way. We found a radio station in every town that had nothing to say.

Willie Nelson came over the airwaves and I thought, when I heard the refrain, "It's kinda hard to be a red-headed stranger when the whole Christian world knows your name."

I fought and I struggle just to keep myself awake. I pulled over to the side of the freeway and said, "Annabelle I need a break."

She woke up and she asked me, "Where the hell are we at?" I said, "Maybe Oklahoma. Anywhere, somewhere wide and flat."

When I opened the door and stood upright, it's like standing for the very first time. My knees were numb and my eyesight was blurry as I stepped across that yellow line.

I dreamt I was flying through the hills of my home. I dreamt I'd been abandoned, I'd been left out all alone.

I dreamt of a hillside where the sun hits the street. Guess I must have dreamt of my new life, there in that passenger seat.

When the sun came over the horizon, we'd entered the desert as I slept, and its beauty was so overwhelming that I, I hid my face and I wept.

Everybody said, "My friend let me warn you, there's earthquakes and rattlesnakes and terrible things."

And it's a long, long way from Clinchport to California in the absence of a strong, reliable set of wings.
Yeah, but my will was harder than diamonds, and I rode for four straight days and nights.

I was a product of impeccable timing, I guess, but I knew that that trip was my birthright.

My friends, my friends let me warn you, it's a long fucking way from Clinchport to California." -- ???

I'm going insane over this damn song.

Faretheewell folk,
-Talthea (12/5/06)

Mighty God: Forgive the ethics bowl team.


Restraint should be a trade school skill. There should be professors and courses and majors in temperance: tie it up with the environment, human history, psychology, economics... It's needed galore.

Get this: "our culture is just a roughneck teenage jerk with a bottle of pills, a bottle of booze, a full round of ammunition and nothing to lose." - Ani D. Yupyup.

What is this? Drinking as a lifestyle; shopping as a pastime. Taking pictures of the view, then tossing a coke can out the window. Always going-going-going somewhere in big-big trucks. What the fuck?

I'm not complaining, I'm confused. I don't think that our level of silliness is just as yet common knowledge. I think we need some classes in sobriety.

Farethewell folk,
-Talthea (12/4/06)