A Druid Princess and the Madness of Flight

Energy
I am a path of
Righteousness
Limbs breaking in terror
To the sound my mouth makes
In silent personification
Of your sufferings.
I am saintly
A master
In your face I am e g o
To your body I am P o w e r
Harnessed and unyielding for I am
A child raised with fear
Nodding off in silent habitation
Pissing on every corner
For the joy of freedom
No longer masked by unmarked
Graves.
I am the druidic priestess
Calm and angered by your limbs
Which pull on me
Strange and human…holy
And unbounded.
Wake me no more from
this present reality
Shifting,
Silent-
No more

Many days I was, raised in fear, as if the wolves might come to me again. And what if I remember? Who would believe my cries then? Where would I hide the snakes that speak to me if my father should ask of the voices? I am not distanced from my loves, I am only aware of my self in a state of consciousness that runs through my veins, caustic and rampant…I am alive and the color of my blood sheds this truth to me with the dawning of each new moon.

Breathe with me here in this moment.
Be with me here.

Time is the irrelevant spark of the soul that traverses space and imagination, connecting us all to the will of the divine: cosmic consciousness bears no grudge against her…time lingers and joins hands with many a race and word and deed…too numerous to count. Why would I even want to? I am not that voice. I am weary, tired my mouth is from screaming empty shades of nothing into the voided atmosphere of tempered fear…this was the way of my family, this is not the way of my heart. Screams of anger rise short and fall…chest heaving, I am silent again, my eyes expressive and ever changing. I am water. My body, breeding, is made of fire-the dualistic miracle of which I am now just coming upon.

My hands sometimes shake, not with warmth or glamour but vibrations that prick and tingle, remaining for many moments, holding my fixated interest-pinning my eyes with divine discovery.

I can heal. This is my message.
I am you. This is my truth.

Together I am with many kin, walking and waking…sharing in my breath secrets, time, age and flustered reality. Tell me, which of what I choose is real? Which slice of vision is perfection? I can sit for hours but the room melts and I find that air spins beyond my control; all I have left to do is continue breathing, to gain the rights back into my body. I am human now, this time…feelings of warmth mingle with the swords which bring cold fires into my chest…haunting my heart and unnamed memories. It is through all of this that I communicate.

Through this fear…
I am Fear.
Through this pain…
I am Pain.
I am unbearable…unending Joy.
This life I am…beauty.
I am man, sex, sage, fuel, fire…
fantastical illusion of life I am…
burning all of life for you.

I am your muse.

Fear not the freedom of being… a C r e a t o r.

[12.20.01]

all that is sought

I want truth
to abandon me
so that sin cannot feel
nor find a home
nor blink its eyes
in regret

that fear has caught
another hope
and witnessed such frank
denial
despite whisperings
offerings
defenses
I cannot comment
I cannot stand
to look
his eyes
see too much.

so stand still
straight back
look ahead
erase all thought and
travel strong
this trailing train
of all that is sought.

walking.wishing. creating.

sun comes
shooting past me
lips terse
breath catching
what of mystery?
there is no one left
to break
or catch
or lean on
so feel less
or release
let faith fly
let the world
open
caress
and dare not regress
past present presence
we forget nothing
we dream only waking
walking
wishing
and
creating.

dance. dance. dance.

nothing better than walking into a party and the first two songs are tony and the beat then house of jealous lovers. you know you are home and you know you are in good hands. after an okay show at the living room, french onion soup and three yes 3 cups of coffee at the pink pony kimmy kim wanders over to the sutra party on 1st and 1st. uh. yeah. it was almost like being teleported home back to safari sams. paparazzi did not make an appearance tonight, i had to try and fit it mwahahha but next week it'll be on. highlights included a fight where a guy nearly got thrown on top of me, good thing i'm quick, lots of hand clapping, free vodka, excellent dj (dimitri? not sure but i love him) wild and silly dressed peeps, boys with hair in their face and finally a dance off (not to be confused with a dance-fight!) where i got twirled around and around and think i met the only hipster who could out dance me. he was like pulling out some arm spinning ballroom shite how am i supposed to know how to do that?? when in doubt grab on and laugh. exactly.
and oh yeah sleep is sooooo overrated i'm not even tired yet.
train ride home? ready?
hit the f. one stop in guy from club who was dancing next to me all night gets on. make friend. transfer to a. train catches on fire. wait at 59th. see guy from club with fox stole and bindi on. make friends. get on new not on fire train. man throws up. not attractive i KNOW. scary homeless man picking his face on other end of train. kim puts on thou shall always kill and has dance party in her head. laughs about the night. marvels that there are over 10 people in the car and it's nearly 4am. almost die when a lady who has to be at least 70 wearing a head to toe pink jumpsuit and sandals gets on train. whut? where's she possibly going at 4am gramma?? kim arrives at last stop with two sleeping men. walk walk. now i'm home. kim needs to get a knife. kim loves to dance. kim misses her lala girlies and can't wait for mili to come may 24th. love love love. the end.

jameson. friend or foe.

the night started and perhaps ended early. spots are shady in between. some of the best moments are left un-captured but their staying power is strong. a polish diner on 2nd and 7th? heaven. it was like being transported to some eastern european relatives house and being served food by gramma. love it. and the guy sitting next to us who apparently hadn't paid for his food in weeks but was promising to pay them back after this meal? well...that was interesting. no photos. just go. you will love it.

now let's talk about happy hour. first off. we are in nyc. there is a bar every other door around here, especially in the east village/lower east side which is really the only place worth going if you need a drink and a chill night out. 2-4-1, jukeboxes, trying to make up whiskey songs and watching some crazy guy sing at the parkside all in between fake ninja fighting and silliness. the real culprit of the photos that follow is my good friend jameson. now. we all know how much i love him and we all know that violence that's still somewhat hilarious usually ensues. now what needs to be put on the table and remembered for the rest of my life IS: once kim starts drinking the jameson then switches to beer she should not under any circumstance be fed more whiskey. it's like the gremlin rule. under no circumstance no matter how much i act tough or beg or ask or cajole. no. just don't do it. let this be remembered. let this be the new solution. jameson i still love you.



what i love more is being crowned with flowers by merideth who i fell in love with:






now i don't remember the name of the bar but it's on houston and they had hank williams on the jukebox and i even saw elvis:



and this guy? i think i tried to include him in our fun and from the look on his face he was slightly intrigued and also scared to death. figures. i have that effect on men haha. yeah.



brandon is trouble. he tried to chain himself to the bar. drink whisk-wee with his tongue and he even put up with me all night. not sure how he did it but he scores some kinda extra bonus points for that one. xo.







so let's recap. diner. happy hour. happy hour. happy hour. happy hour. photos. yummies. photos. happy hour. the end. almost.





see.. i still had the subway ride home. i got to practice my french and impress the frenchies who were running AMOK on the subway interviewing people and spewing french at them while videotaping. they were pretty stoked when i started speaking to them in my broken french. hi-yah. they are just lucky i didn't try to ninja fight them. here they are:



while waiting for the a-train i had to hide from the metal minions that tried to follow and attack me. i just barely made it, perhaps they were just scared of my shoes?





sigh. that's all the recap for now boys and girls. it's 4pm and i am off to sit in the kitchen and noodle my guitar. abra moore at the living room tonight. coffee at the pink pony. take over the world. yadayadayada.xokg.

it's time to remind you :: here's the list :: bring on the aliens

back in the day gussi came up with the fabu idea to just spell out a list of 'dream alien requirements' so as not to mistake any casual crushing for potential love interests. the result? the famous requirements. i've been known to say 'sorry you don't fit my requirements! read the list!' but that was only once, and it was really late and i think i had been drinking...i'm honestly not that mean. most of the time. in case you're curious and/or missed the bulletin here you go. let the games begin.

dream alien requirements:
should you meet these qualifications or know of someone who does please contact me immediately.

- rocks the combover
- has desire to share hairdye
- an alien-duh
- equiped with 2-3 eyeballs
- must own at least 2 pleather items of clothing
- prone to mood swings
- 6'3" or over
- hair covers 25% of your face
- must be an artist-preferably with a portfolio or sound bytes for quick reference
- skinny! skinny! skinny!
- pretty! pretty! pretty!
- occupied with something other than me so we don't have to hang out everyday
- born before july 22, 1978
- who needs a six pack when you could have a keg
- mild case of social anxiety

just a photo.

i can't sleep. been sitting around since 630. and i went to bed at 3. i miss this. more words coming soon. for now let's just explain last night with perhaps the funniest photo i've taken in a while. taly, brandon, you both are just, class. xokg.