It's sooo hard for me to read all below. Jesus Fucking Christ. I just feel sorry for that person - that person who wrote all that shit.
Damn.
How extremely horrible.
It is the year 2015 and I think all of it is horrible. To say I went through a lot describes nothing. I have a better sense why "the horror the horror the horror" that expression - kept going through my head.
I was partially lobotomized by drugs - as well - for a while. Accepted I would lead the life of a nun - no libido - no desire - disconnected physically from the world - what an awful state - a foreign state to be in. Even this shit about Ivey is pretty whack - i wasnt over it. Not at all. I had to come back, to myself. Oh matt, fuck you and thank you for waking me up you dont even realize you've done it - but - when you care about my work - when you come over- you are caring about me. I don't know if you even realize that.

ps everything below was written quite some time ago - i don't know exactly when (some of it is actually dated - OK it must have been around spring of 2013 (ivey)

Hard for me to read all this shit below. Maybe I am getting past it.

How long does it take, to trust in men again - to trust in ME again? How long? How long. Have I ever trusted any man, any one? Any one person? How can I live in such a state, of suspicion. Who the fuck would want to hang around this shit? I feel bad that I have a child. What a horrible platform to stand on.

I looked yesterday at the photos of me giving birth...Never really sat down and looked at them, and it is so well documented. What strikes me is the expression on my face - most of all, what is being said by my eyes. The depth of sadness, in my eyes. Finn (intern) was looking over my shoulder and he said "wow, you look really sad". I can't believe that a person with such a look on their face could be surrounded by others who stand around and say nothing...Nothing at all. I take one look and I know that I never ever want to go to that place again. It changed me utterly, horribly, broke me, and almost killed me.

I read in this very badass series by the FT about lobotomies performed on soldiers coming back from WW2 with "shell shock" as a cure. One who is still alive made some comment which made me realize the distinction that must be made between natural distasters and those cause by men. When another person, your fellow man, tried to anhialate you, and nearly succeeds, something bad happens. It has to do with man killing fellow man, the trauma is deep, worse, somehow, anti-nature, the effects much worse, when the cause of it all is at the hands of another person.

...

"It is also important to realize that any observation of reaction and adjustment to rape are based on a relatively small sample. It has only been recently that victims have been willing to talk about their experience. The following discussion is based on current literature on the subject and on observations of the rape victim advocate project staff. It is essential to understand that there is no one way that victims respond and adjust to this crisis. Any one victim might exhibit all or none or any combinations of the system describe. Problems might occur within a week, a year, ten years or never."

jesus i feel so fucking bad right now. ann gale came over, visiting from NZ. i feel so excluded from myself, my tribe, my family. not my blood family, my real family. i walk around like an object of destruction/rejection. it really hurts. like im literally crying because this rejection is just part making sure that my life will indeed beforever more be defined by rape. it changed the way i interacted with men, really seriously, everything has become defined by and references animal fear. meanwhile, i am sure ive been judged for that. so until that judgement changes, and is rectified, i will feel permanently damaged and handicapped by the rape and the men i once admired - now bound, together. when will this break, when will this end.

fucking hell. i had such a great dream last night. but waking up, im pained. like bee sting pain. because its not happening here in the waking world, im pining not combined with the one i love. yes i had a very simple dream last night, that i was walking through a forest, looking at some houses, a bit like cabins/summer cottages/doll houses, all painted neatly in vibrant colors. all staked very close together in a clearing in this forest. im with ivey. i turn and we put our arms around each other our faces are so close, i am so very happy, and so is he. all i can see is the darkness caused by our arms being around each others heads, and the smaile on his face. we are about to kiss, and then - I WAKE UP. literally, just like that. at the very moment. and i do not know where he is in real life, he fucked off to a wedding in south carolina and i havent heard. hes with his family by the ocea, MIA. that sucks. im not sure what to do, if anything. but i really dont want to like someone more than they like me, and such dreams, are so very positive. let them be true. it has been 7 centuries since i felt love in my heart, since a man stood before me and made me smile.

04-22-2013; just for the record; my mom is a total psycho. so...had a hilarious dream last night about an albanian basketball player. maybe he exists in real life, not sure, but he was very tall, statuesque and concrete, in this dream. the dream started with me in a car with my mom driving. we came to a road that passed through the sea, very precarious, with water on either side, no shoulder, no grass, just water. there was a point where the road was flooded, alarm bells went off in my head, i thought, that looks calm, but we dont know how deep it is. got throug the road to this giant industrial city, also very real feeling. a lot of smokestacks and factories densely stacked, and packed, everywhere. im in some kind of giant stadium building with views to this huge industrial spread outside. there's this towering pro basketball player who wants me to be his girlfriend. he's kind of...laying the groundwork for this to be possible, telling me about his life, his schedules, his time, his handlers, his associates, so i know the deal. at the same time there's this other woman - his former girlfriend - who he's phasing out - as he's phasing me in. there are a lot of video cameras and tripods everywhere, some aspect of dancing ballert (me) and performing for the cameras for fun. also some written text and a xerox machine tht the basketball player was going through, somehow, with me. a very friendly dream, not particularly sexual, but constructive. good vibes.

(1 week later)

sorry folks. no dice. not seeing him anymore. and matts not responding either, so dont let me say whats in my head it's all pretty bad.

rapist got out of prison, is on APA supervision for 3 years. thats good. can't leave the state.

everybody's a fucking rapist. no. but what i wouldnt do for a man who wasnt so fragile, and so precious that he could step out of his safety zone and buy a woman a cup of coffee. just to buy her a cup of coffee. just because, she's OK, and he's OK, and thats it. tiny things go very far. and the men i know cant do them. it makes me feel like that psycho guy who came to matts studio one day going on and on about collaboration and this dumb stuff he was doing with corpses...something like that. i felt like him trying to articulate to matt that id come close to death. i guess i shuldnt have to explain myself but then again so often i want to kill myself because of it. me hanging from the rafters. i think of this probably 20 times in a week. i dont feel like a woman in the presence of someone i once did.

i told matt things in jest that i now realize were deadly serious. but i didnt know that at the time, so deep was my denial. i feel super weird about that. intimate, but not at all, ruinued but still OK because i was able to deny it. so my friends are my friends as long as i am in total denial about real experience. that leaves me where.

well...got past that confusion. lay in the bath tub in a absolute dream reality listening to mozart's requiem with ivey agreeing that we were meant to be together that we had no choice in the matter and that maybe we were both going to die...never in my life have i felt i would be nothing but happy lying next to 1 other person for eternity. something about the requiem and some other pieces by WAM the music carried our fate together beyond tiem and space. as if WAM was in the room like; "i partied and fucked in a bathtub too". It was like, honoring the dead. Who are yet alive. The day started at Greenwood cemetary lost among the stones, we found the most majestic, above the earth, a giant, elevated, stone coffin, with large latters all around, so and so son of so and so and nancy somebody. we agreed wed screw on top of it in july on or around iveys birthday. no one will care, the caretaker i spoke to told us what to do if ever we got locked in ... it was, we agreed, an inviation to do so.

he is a little crazy. i mean, talking and talking and worshipping and worshipping and expounding so poetically as to the perfection of my pussy - thats right - the perfection of my pussy! i laughed so hard, he's in love with it. never have i heard such physical adulation so perfectly articulated, by a southern gentleman. or boy. he is somewhere inbetween. both things are very attractive, and he has both. but he has these freak outs. like " i have to leave here at exactly 12:47 tomorrow, no way am i getting locked into chloe studio world, with no escape, 12:47 is precisely when i am leaving. yes thats a good enough time as any, i am leaving at 12;47. i realized later that hes genuinely anxious, like he thinks he might really get locked in somewhere. bad reverb from a previous arrangement, most likely. why or in what way would i ever do that. it sounds like someone else.

jeez there was so much love in that bath tub. i kid you not, its a fucking dream turned real turned dream turned real. he drunk a lot of alcohol, so much in fact he couldnt keep track of all the beers he kept opening. red blooded american, honestly it looks hot when he shotguns a beer, hes a fucking all american abercrombie and fitch dude doing what dudes do, and then he fucks me, with all the dude that he is. my cat super likes him. i kept joking that zingys really excited beceause now he has a dude buddy. clearly, he does.

he brought condoms, which was wise. somewhere in there there's a flirtation with pregnancy. we justl like each other.

my god, that mozart, unbelievable, the most incredible full moon i have ever witnessed or experienced.

im getting into this dude thing, like i thing i am going to construct one, or two or three, something, im coming around to working with dudes, not drawing them, something else, to create them, a Golem, a proper Golem. Not the surface, the insides, leading the way forward, not the other way around.

Still, he is full of contradictions. His personality fucked up is very very different than sober. I am not that way. He was a little shy this monring, whereas I was not. But it took me 24 hours to get that way. It takes me time to let down my guard, I realize, days, weeks, until the gates are truly open.

i want to fly i want ride with you. fuck the past two days have been a wash. staring into space, tired, and feeling a weird and fucked up. things got messed up with ivey. for no reason i can define. probably not a disaster, but, wtf, i dont want to say i suck at liking someone, but i do. i have no idea what to do when scertain emotions appears after lying dormant for 7 centuries.

i keep watching Refn's Valhalla Rising over and over again. I never watch it twice. It's like watching a movie about myself. Ferocious warrior. Who is the ferocious warrior. Is it me, or is it...you? Who is the man who is that. All of these men pretending to be warriors, they are so weak. Such failures. But I am that. Who can match me? Is not about the thing that melts the ice, its about the man who can climb the summit, meet me at the top. The top of my being. I have neglected my own strengths for too long. UNfortunate that I was raised that way, but never too late, to see and appreciate what is there. I feel as if I am being reborn, into myself, but for this, a true partner is necessary, and really desrerved. My mother is also a failure. But I dont think I could move ahead, without seeing that. Hard to do that on your own. You need others. Others who do not reinforce the chains that bind you. Even if it came violently form the outside, at least the chains were ripped off in some way. No one should have to suffer like that, but then again, no one should have to suffer and be forced to accept that suffering by the weakness of others. Every violent scene in that movie, I love. Its accurate, and clear. Violence is part of life, and I respect any story that depicts it that way.

feb 26 2013 saw matt and ari the other night. i hate how giving birth is conflated with being raped. i hesitated to even show those guys io's picture - just because they're guys. and of course i dont realize im recoiling, assuming a defensive posture, until after. but - all morning i dreamt of ivey. can you believe that? holy crap do i like kissing him. marzia, my girlfriend, of my dystropic lesbian phase, often asked if i had ever been in love. honestly, i had no say no. from my current position: no. but now, i can say yes. i had this funny vision of ivey fat, bloated, broken and in a wheelchair, i thought, even if that were the case, id still want to fuck the shit out of him. that is good feeling. having felt so unfuckable, myself, for so damn long. i had a rough week last week. i thought about giving birth for the first time - since i did it (4 years) and realized how when it happened, i felt absolutely nothing. i realized i was supposed to feel something. you know - a bond with the child, happiness, joy, i dont know; anything. its the first time i realized that. i realize that now. i mentioned it to my mom, and man she is such an asshole. amazing what a rift stands between us now. and forever. her true colors. she is such an enabling poisonous cunt, and i mean that totally. at every point in my life beginning with day 1 i had parents who really didnt give a shit about what was happening to me. it would never occur to either of them to ever ask "how are you?" my entire life. if there was anything wrong, or if i was injured, i would be considered spoiled by the both of them. useless, hateful people.

wow. im reading this for the first time in a long time. its february, 2013. so fucked up. it makes me just want to get drunk, and fuck.

i had clear ideas about my destiny, earlier. the terror came from the possibility that this was my real destiny, my true destiny, it turned everything else i had ever cared for into a lie.including my child. including myself. fucking horror. yes, the horror. this is it. i read yesterday a long article about these kids whod been molested by their boy scout leader moloster dad. everything they went through just having to deal with it later in life. changed forever. or never. but they speaking helps a person like me, up at 4 AM reading that shit on huff post, looking for answers. good news is: im not a lesbian. not good, per se, but not me. i did think i would never feel anything for a man again. how simple is that. never touch never kiss and never care a whit, for a man, again. not so now. i am so relieved. i met a sub, who i like (!) i really like him. he is so pretty. he is so rich. he is so wanting, so deeply, wanting. he is so tall, handsome, and beautiful. he desires me so, so much. he talks to me about his yacht, and tries to impress me, in the simplest, most straight forward way. and i just think hes beautiful, like a marble statue, i can make, come to life, and fuck.

june 2012

huh. looking at that earlier email from matt i posted. i was really in denial then. cracking up around the edges, i did my best to manage it. what a fool i am. yea now i feel foolish too. now all i want to do is tell him, because i like him, and respect him, but i just feel crazy, and stupid and ruined.

may 2012

you poor thing. look i will say it that way. i was raped. it's taken this long to see it, and to respond. ive got ptsd and its horrible, and embarassing, but they say that its a good sign that there's a reaction and that something is happening. i feel as if i will lose all of my friends, and that ihave none, as no one could possibly know or understand. i fought hard not to react to it as if everything was normal. i was trying not to die, and not to be killed. i was nearly killed. people sayits a fate worse than death, it's no exaggeration, you do die; but then you're alive. you're maimed, wounded, festering, unhealable, altered. will i ever be friends with a man again? i may really not be. another horrible thing i have to accept and come to terms with, that some things can really hurt you, and no one will be standing by you.no one will save you, and no one will talk to you. it explains the hatred for my mother. how i do hate her. she never came to my rescue, she allowed me to be raped. amazing how mothers encourage the rape of the daughters, anything to please a man.

im trying to get help and get counseling. men no longer exist, this is the worst part - they've all been lumped together into a faceless, unfeeling perpetrator.

dec2011

its nearly the new year having a bad time with it. i hate my family. i cant seem to get rid of this hatred. its prevents me from doing so much and being happy and connecting to other people.

12/9/2011

why did i date this???? lame. look, i dont care about porn, at all, its boring, im over it, turns me into a passive blob. i want to make things, build the castle, fly the plane, seriously, porn has no place here.

soooo happy to be home. i love all the guys in my life. i want more of them. i dont want to feel alienated, i speak a language i have to speak with people i can speak with, it doesnt matter, male or female, they are out there, i need them.

"word, that was fun. definitely meant it as a compliment. you look like a badass. a hot one. looking forward to berlin.
hails
On Dec 9, 2011, at 2:20 PM, Chloe Piene Studio wrote:

hey matt -
seeing the new herzog later. that was way sweet of ari to put together. good speaking with kieth too. you really think im naturally suspicious? i reek terrorist? ha ha. is it just how i look or what i might do?
xchloe"

to be called a terrorist is a high compliment, i would think my work is that powerful, but beautiful, too. see.

11/5/11

turned into a cinder by a witch

beyond

to make a mark 10/13/11

hey i dont want to date anyone here

i dont want to sleep with old friends here either

i want to ___ x and i imagined xin a ____ and i ____ super _____ in the ____ and he is a ____fuck and thereisnoother

like that

so

______

expansive

please do take your ___ as you offered your knife cut ___ perfect _____ that i drew with a ____ all over

do i want to live here all alone without a true ____ to talk to whose mother i can talk to

thats --

ok cool it

when you really want to sleep with somebody - you cant lie about it. you cant pretend you want to sleep with them. you really do want to be with them, for that moment, it s true.

fucking

its so embarassing, right? that i could fuck you every day.

(a few days earlier)

ok all is better them guess i had to throw up some shit. can it out on the floor out of my system.

whatever. still its true id rather just fuck. studio seems like such a tiny container , compared to what else is out there.

maybe the timing of a crisis is always right!!!

im totally pinged out from seeing matt. its wierd. we did a studio visit but it was somehow, just OK. the work looks too similar, accidentally, well not, but unconsciously, its sort of embarassing, right? (piece in detroit, iron piece...what did he mean by that - the pour only or is there a physical piece?) its better if we sleep together and just never talk about our work. im happier that way. the work can be so fucking heavy, with problems. life is so heavy, with problems. im so fucking embarassed i dont have a NY gallery (thats worthy) i wonder if i appear as a dying tree. one of those kinds thats all hard and dead and diseased on the bottom but still with a few green shoots on top. (that you know are also going to die - soon.) so its better to just fuck, and not worry about the status of the world. fucking makes me happy, meanwhile i am hard up, i do not have US support and he is bound to a super rich pop star and is rich himself. should i just hang around poor miserable people and forget about him and any riches. i have no money to make the work i want to i am totally dependent on galleries, this month i cannot pay my mortgage for the first time in my life. if i think about that for more than a second, ill end up hanging from a noose. only because it would acknowledge that I am approaching total failure, irresponsible to my work, irresponsible to my child, for no other reason. where did i go wrong, for myelf. i got fixated on fathers, fatherhood, i was still caught in the grip of old sadists, controlling demons. is that why? really, is that why. what is wrong with me, why is poverty, isolation and lack of a truly supportive network, even possible, never mind, actual. and who the fuck cares about fathers. OK i needed my images of "studio parents" to get out of any and all parents, permanently. its not cool. its one thing to be a parent, another thing to have one. you kind of really have to not have any parents to excel, and to survive.

i covered the tarot with black tissue paper, its better that way, its like an energy source in the wall..

i had beter get that tarot reading offt hat wall its a bit cheesy and very lovey dovey - the cards themselves are its strue:

7/20/2011 Horoscope:

Happiness reigns in a romantic relationship, as a commitment seems to be taking place, Chloe. It may be unspoken at the moment, but not for long. Your feeling of security and confidence in this relationship is not misplaced; it could well last for a long time. If you're single, a new and promising love partner may appear, perhaps someone who is older than you and successful in business. Enjoy your day.

I dreamt last night of Matthew standing before me soaking wet, as if hed been in the ocean...or maybe was made of it

the two of cups

my heart will never tire

fact is i really almost died, thought about suicide every single day, sometimes felt like every waking moment, all in ways that really do end up killing people. now my spirit is on the mend. i mean really on the mend. no more smiles and smallchat with terrible pain inside. so much pain i dont remember whole months of time, whole simple events, studio visits, shit i did with other people that apparently normal, i wasnt even present.

positivity, have you had your plus sign today? FUCK i have to STOP thinking about all the things i want to do to matthew immediately, seriously, its getting distracting, the moon, the tide, the eclipse, all conspiring severely to consume me the moon the tide and the eclipse in cahoots the last time, in cahoots this time, he is either going to consume me or i am going to consume him, the fact is if that doesnt happen i will die a horrible tortorous unworthy, living death, that is no death at all

yes he played the joker, and was really bad at it, but i appreciate it more than he could know. just a few...hairs...past what hed want for himself - given to someone else.

GAAARRGH the anticipation, FUCK if i were a guy id be wlking around with a perpetual hard-on

the long arm of the law. i spent halfa life time fending off chaosing, combating energy with order, now im switching sides. friend of chaos. lay in bed this morning thinking about how love is a boundless, stateless being. lonliness gone. no matter where i am in the world.

05/04/2011

vanilla sex fantasies for the first time ever. i mean i thought about another person in my bed without the usual filter - usual anonymity. i thought about a real person, i looked at no porn, i went to someone real. i think i know why this happened, i got kissed by a prince, woken up out of my coma. an apollo brave enough to take in the darkness. darkness brave enough to take in the light. see at how many points that last state go could really wrong, without the correct countermeasure. or with no counter measure. i needed that countermeasure, to put things to right. i suffered all this time, lost, in a vacuum without any light, nothing could penetrate, i was obssessed with lucretia, i knew why she killed herself, i could no get out of being her. anyways, thats passed now, what a terrible dismemberment!!! now put back together, better.

PRISON

so i went to my corner deli today for my usual coffee - its like a mexican run very greasy spoon lots of cops go there - im standing there waiting for my coffee, bread, and banana, its busy in there, and i hear these 2 guys come in, i dont see them just hear them come in behind me - one's like "yo man, this place here, this place has some good shit, good grub you know what im saying?" from that moment alone my head goes: convict, just out of prison, being shown around by good intentions friend. so i feel someone standing next to me, i think (but dont yet see) "hot" he says in a very even, clear, confident voice (unlike his squirelly sounding friend) "mami , let me get 2 scrambled eggs with turkey. and can i get a banana?" i think: i just ordered a banana. then i start thinking of ___, how he grew up in a black ghetto, and speaks really similarly, with the same sort of even keeled confidence, and energy. but its maybe also that prison energy, raw, fresh, full of hope and in top physical condition - just out. so i still dont look at this guy, but i can feel him, and i know that he can feel me in the sense that im not unaware of him, and he checking me out - respectfully. then im like waiting for my order for too long finally they wrap it up i pay and turn to leave, and i bump right into him and look right into his eyes; he is tall, super strong, (super) and fucking something. made my day. made HIS day. completely spot on.

(a few days later) OK OK OK COOL IT. im alive and well. im not LEAVING ANYTHING. MATT IS BEING REALLY HELPFUL. he just came over and helped make some shapes with the curve of his head in hot plasteilne. I think I just freak out when I feel alone...with my shit, by that I mean, centuries old shit. Vampire blues. Yesterday (hilarious:) M (Fuck C did u break out? / C Aha ha scalps not mine / M Duh...Ifeared VD. Which would be strange / C Just plain old psoriasis C Lots of Scabs to pick C Monkey style M I have some sort of psoriasis M Psoriasis connects to arthritis C Really I only know them separately M Something about Rhumatoid arthritis relates to Psoriasis M Cant remember what C Yeah I just googled it they are totally connected - can be - one can precede the other and vise versatile C Versa M Versatile M Venerial C Video M Vestigal Vagina C Vestal Virgin M Victorian Vigilance C Vampire Vespers M Vantias M Vuck C Vampire Fuck M Victim M Fuck my cunt C Fist M Forced

ill go through spells where i watch a lot of porn...then suddenly none of it is good enough. its like i want to build something. i get hungry. i want to do something completely new, totally spontaneous, made up, unrecorded, never done. i want the limits stretched. for some days, or hours, or whatever the time, just so there is a feeling of no limit, of all future

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck

i am in the fortunate (or unfortuante) state of feeling permanently turned on.

that thing that fuels everything

magic

he tried pretending our dance was just a dance but i see

if icould see through the ages of all witches burned, processed, and condemned, tied at the wrists, the turning point from death to trust, or trust to death - from mortality to immortality - a female to a witch

whats it like to have a brother. (thank you matt - and gaspar noe - for putting these 2 things together...matt + his sister...me + matt. i saw "enter the void" consequently:)

Anyone could be my brother. because i dont have one, nor any sisters, im an only child, anyone could be my bother. although that may not be true for them, its possible always for me. the natural boundaries, they dont exist. (it that sense i could also be a witch.) i could make someone my brother, for a day.

i hallucinated partitions. thats is really extremely strange. i saw them there, in the most casual way, what? were they there 100 years ago? ??? a ha - those dead bodies in the basement and the field. the tick between the tweezers. the sick dying woman at my door, looking so like death, i had to turn away at the airport she was sitting in wheelchair, staring into space, dark skinned with the same rounded sunken in eye balls. in my dream she was standing at my door wanting to come in i swept her up in my arms like a baby i said "no no you cant come in, dont worry, dont be afraid" i comforted her i cradled her head.

i couldnt deal with the parents dying in that noe movie. it was upsetting to see - kids crying for their dead parents. at the same time, it made me wonder, to have a brother, more primary than...anything. because they are kind of your same age. or close to it. whats that like. you see your brother naked, before your dad, i am sure. that would make the brother a lot bigger, i think. time is shared, not so, controlled. more of a fellow passenger. what if your dad was less of the control tower operator, and more of the air marshall. invisible, silent, watchful. manifest only in the event of an attack.

who would you rather attack you, a human or an animal?

i am swilling lwith actic acid right now. i get inspired and i go out and kickbox i get so filled up. paying for it this instant in lactic acid.

good girl, good girl. enjoy your life. keep it fun. find more boys.

on the phone with health insurance idiots watching porn on mute.

(thank you lord for allowing me to live and lick a perfect torso at my leisure. not just any torso, one that i like, one that expands me, counterpoint to those deathly mandalas fuck how long had it been how far up grendels ass had i crawled before i came out and made out like a teenager with a boy who i like? a fucking make out session to top any make out session in the boiler room with the effing boiler spitting and huffing and pilot light glowing what a beautilful place) i licked him up and down because i wanted to. that never even occured to me before i ve never had the urge before it was just plain hot. no mortal can measure.)

I am so relieved to be rid of normal guy. sorry, its always a half assed experiment for me, fuck it.

Where dreaming of flying or the details of the next day or of bodies in basements for some people it's the exception for others its the rule - the dungeon is the rule. not the rule - the law. the dungeon is the law. i have such a hard time taking a break even conceiving of it i think thisi s because i really just want to spend a week in my basement playing games = thats a break. thats a real break. i brain has to be stimulated to be happy, to exist as a sheer being.

becketts description - or short story (or whatever it is) of sex with a sort of flickering woman so much light and darkness bursts of both going on and on unfolding effortless and joyousless but relentlessly because its so real. hes the only one i know who has achieved that.

this gaspar noe movie - enter the void - was fucking so good i cried at the end. the deathlike mandalas like poisonous growths advancing and expanding they so creeped me out. somehow accurate - against black, a field where nothing else is possible still their colors are bright.

ah but the love hotel, where everyone's true nature is revealed, so it defines the ending (and the beginning) the baby born the umbilial cord cut thats where i cried. only in the love hotel did the young addict get to suck dick, did the sister get to make love and become impregnated by the guy who - we get from the beginning, really liked her. for as much as there is too little sex depicted in any convicing fashion anywhere (movies) it still is the engine that drives every story. unlike sex, tho, childbirth even children (prominent in the movie) rarely get any clear or present screentime, here they did, very much tied into the death at the beginning, it made me cry it was somehow accurate, and somehow i myself have come a long way since i went through everything.

and the brother

really matt was worried that one night we went out to see seth putnam about rape. he didnt quite have to worry about that i would not let something like that happen, those circumstances were not nearly out of control. did ray rape me? yes he did, he took advantage of the fact that i knew him, that i was pregnant, that i was isolated. i will be perfectly clear about that. no one should ever dream that a pregnancy secures or means any kind of innate connection with the sperm giver - the fact that ray was so stupid and cruel has become a huge relief, no connection exists, no connection ever really existed, thank god.

i got a few hints last week that my intuition was making its way back, maybe coming back. and also as a result that is is possible to go through something so cataclysmic so as to suffer psychic damage. in the time i though - this it was it means to break a persons spirit - thats part of it- but also - your mind can be bent so that it becomes disconnected from your own anchor - no longer you - not attached to yourself - that is a broken spirit. i had never experienced anything like that before. so, there was no way of knowing, anything. is the damage permanent, do you just become crushed. but i had 2 dreams one where someone i know who looks very much like this other person i met up with the next day in real life he said, in the dream "that bitch has probably become rich with consignments like these (because the terms are so ironfisted)!! doesnt she understand that to have a phone is not just about texting words its about communication!" that day that real person said "you know in the end its all about communication" and again yesterday "its really about communication" it was just the line repeated in realitime - word for word the 1st time. then the other night i dreamt that i caught a large tick in a pair of tweezers. the next morning in the shower im washing my hair i notice a small dead tick on the shampoo shelf. (so random, we have no animals in the building). this sort of thing. little, but maybe important, maybe a clue, small clues, to lead me back to my own instincts.

(later) ok enough with the misty minded recollection not in the mood today. heard about duchamps illegitimate daughter whom he never acknowledged in any form. she was in the end a notation like anything else it depressed me.

old boyfriends - suddenly gone, suddenly clear

i dont know i grew up in a household where hardship or suffering were considered fictions. or a form of selfishness. i think i have no sense of alarm on that front or not none but muted and mybe sometimes harmfully so. even when there is shit exploding outside the window and a tornado on the horizon my family's attitude has always been something to the effect of "dont be so selfish" if you but wince at the sight, or begin to organize. or you know "what's the big deal other people have to deal with tornadoes too, you're not the only one". i mention this only because i dream of torndos often and have for many decades. in great detail.

the old familiar feeling...of old boyfriends. are old boyfriends ever old? or always new. the door that only your hands can recognize. the door that you discern from only a faint outline. i am going to die again.

i know that one day i will find the combination that fits. i shouldnt ever lose hope, as much as old evil and jealous fathers might try to suck me under a victim spell

was inspired by the massachusetts politicians book title: Against All Odds

CP
You asked about the skull, in my drawing, and in the work. I am interested in the skull as much as the chain of events that put it there, the ground it is buried in as much as the thing itself.

CP

You asked about Gender. I am not completely aware of what that means. Since I was young I was exposed to more crucifixion scenes and animals and mythical creatures than to naked boys. My own anatomy has always been primary. I’ve always known myself first and still this is where all the events in my life point back to.

3/20/11 (same day as the lick entry)

porn

so obbsessed with undoing all the bad porn, and acknowledging the good porn, in all meaningful - well executed (?) things.

there should be more ritual that acknowledges...ritual. because it opens up a space for - creativity. like a hard frame. a solid center line. to extend from.