chemicals

the meaning I give
to the rush hush flush shush
chemicals
brightening my bloodstream

p.s. we're all in this together

How sweet

My best friend has Kiss on Wet Glass bookmarked in his favorites, between Doom and Live365 Internet Radio.

The internet makes strange bedfellows.

Christopher, can you please rearrange your favorites so I am between PostSecret and Bat Conservation International?

Thanks.

enough

dreams of lost lovers increasingly grotesque

held hostage by my subconscious
just tell me your demands
do you want a fast car - full tank of gas - get the hell out of this town?
1.2 million dollars in non-consecutive bills?
a helicopter on the roof?
a private jet to Nepal?

no fear?

damn. the helipcopter would have been easier.

I would not be opposed to someone buying me the shirt.

A lovely artist I stumbled upon - Dan McCarthy.

Love and chemicals, chemicals and love. Or Damn all this love inundation!

Fabulous excerpts from this month's National geographic Article, "This Thing Called Love."

"A woman unconsciously uses orgasms as a way of deciding whether or not a man is good for her."

"Love and obsessive-compulsive disorder could have a similar chemical profile. Translation: Love and mental illness may be difficult to tell apart. Translation: Don't be a fool. Stay away."

"According to this theory, we love whom we love not so much because of the future we hope to build but because of the past we hope to reclaim"

"Helen Fisher has suggested that relationships frequently break up after four years because that's how long it takes to raise a child through infancy."

"If the chemically altered state induced by romantic love is akin to mental illness or a drug-induced euphoria, exposing yourself for too long could result in psychological damage."

"Assuming a fairly healthy relationship, if you have enough orgasms with your partner, you may become attached to him or her. You will stimulate oxytocin."

"And I knew it wouldn't last, couldn't last, and so that infused it with a sweet sense of longing, almost as though we were watching the end approach while we were discovering each other"

In the spirit of valentine's day and renewal - My song of the week

Home is where I want to be
Pick me up and turn me round
I feel numb - born with a weak heart
I guess I must be having fun
The less we say about it the better
Make it up as we go along
Feet on the ground
Head in the sky
It's ok I know nothing's wrong . . nothing

Hi yo I got plenty of time
Hi yo you got light in your eyes
And you're standing here beside me
I love the passing of time
Never for money
Always for love
Cover up and say goodnight . . . say goodnight

Home - is where I want to be
But I guess I'm already there
I come home - she lifted up her wings
Guess that this must be the place
I can't tell one from another
Did I find you, or you find me?
There was a time Before we were born
If someone asks, this where I'll be . . . where I'll be

Hi yo We drift in and out
Hi yo sing into my mouth
Out of all those kinds of people
You got a face with a view
I'm just an animal looking for a home
Share the same space for a minute or two
And you love me till my heart stops
Love me till I'm dead
Eyes that light up, eyes look through you
Cover up the blank spots
Hit me on the head Ah ooh

"This Must be the Place (Naive Melody)" - The Talking Heads

If I can't figure it out, science doesn't stand a chance.

Not only am I too smart to ever get married, but even Science (or, most probably, science) has no idea who the hell I should date.

Here's the deal - I've been weirdly hypnotized by the eHarmony commercials, watching all these swooning couples talk about how they fell truly, madly, deeply in love as soon as they laid eyes upon one another because eHarmony did such an damn-fine, ass-spankingly good job matching them. So has my friend Laura, who, God love her, has been baking heart shaped cookies and painting things pink and just generally feeling hopfeul about this whole mysterious thing called Love. She logged on to eHarmony, did the free profile, saw some of her matches, and was considering shelling out the buckaroos to learn more. As her friend said "Can you really put a price on true love?" Well, eHarmony has and apparently it is $240 a year.

Being bored at work today, I logged on to their website, spent 30 minutes agonzing over how obstreperous, charming and intellectual I am, and, after an exhausting amount of self-disclosure, ended up at the page entitled "Unable to Match You." In their words, "Our matching model could not accurately predict with whom you would be best matched." Apparently, I am one of those rare creatures - the Unmatchable.

Once again, I have been right this entire time. There is NO ONE out there for me.

I can't wait to tell my therapist.

something like renewal

felicitous

"Feet on the ground
Head in the sky
It's ok I know nothing's wrong . . nothing"

I hate my uterus. Part IV.

This really should be a post about how much I hate my uterus but it was all bare neuron screaming in the daylight, so I think it is best to just let it go.

"But a human being is again incomplete, and so feels the desire for union."

dreaming of lost lovers again
i cannot feel the future

Dream don't even got no opposite and i don't know nothing bout love

I guess i could opt for {hate}, finding, remembering, reappearing, and whatever the opposite of dreaming is. Clarity? Sounds okay, except for that whole hate thing. Opposites are complicated not as complicated as dreams. Plus, look at all those re-words up there. Even finding is sort of re-ish, like regaining.

It's all in the re-.

seriously

love, loss, forgetting, vanishing, dreaming
i need some new metaphors

for reals, yo

bloody lip newspaper kiss

to all my lovely lost ones:

i don't want any of you to be dreams from which i will awake
but some of you are