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 "Hold still, please?"
"Breathe in and hold it?"
"Turn onto your left side?"
"Hold your arms up, there?"
"Can you feel this?"
"Grab that bar, alright?"
"Push your elbows together?"
"You can breathe now."
"This thing is a dinosaur."

I am a medical marvel.  My pacemaker is a dinosaur.  It was medical archaeology.  Pacemakers are slated to last seven years.   ( Read more... )

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 I have an appointment with the cardiologist on Tuesday morning.  I have an echo.  For those who don't have a heart that's enlarged on one side?  An echo is an ultrasound, essentially, but used to listening to my own internal workings, and not my child's.  This is because my pacemaker has been going off lately.  When I was two, the benign cardiac ( Read more... )

I turned nineteen the night the sleek, beautifully bodied cars planted themselves next door.  I remembered the moment exactly.  Dad was inside, concocting some rich-smelling meal in my honor (“it’s your goddamn BIRTHDAY, fallon; let me cook, for once”), while I (after heartily protesting his choice of wine, because I remembered what it did to his ( Read more... )

 HEART OF DARKNESS by JOSEPH CONRAD
Edited by ROBERT KIMBROUGH
copyright 1963 by W. W. NORTON & COMPANY, INC

AP English Literature, Summer Reading book I

PERSONAL NOTES
Brief Summary of pages 1-20:
Aboard a Trading Company's "yawl" on the River Thames, the book opens with a group of six or eight men seated together, rowing.  Soon enough, Marley, one of ( Read more... )

I have a man.  A man who is interested, at least.  But, unfortunately, I also flew from California last night, inducing misery.

He just called me, about forty minutes ago, inviting me to a double feature.  It would've been at a drive in, and he said he'd maneuvered his futon into the bed of Cheney's ford.  Now.  I have been sitting around all day, ( Read more... )

There is a little bruise.  A little, misshapen, blob of a bruise resting atop the artery on my wrist.  Arteries are the blue ones, right?  It's purple.  I thought it was leukemia, but none of my cuts have reopened (i'm prone to papercuts).  I don't have any other abnormal bruises, so i think we're alright.  It's a little sore, though.

This time, I' ( Read more... )

You don't realize how broken you are until you start putting yourself together.
 

i want to look myself in the eye
i want to be a charmer, with a serpent on my back
i want spindly, pianist fingers
with a touch of surreality on my mind
i want genius on my tongue
i want a scar tissue heart
i want a page full of words that don't make sense
i want you to get rid of the excedrin
i want this one to talk, that one to shut up

i don't know why.
( Read more... )