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sublingua | |||||
| The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.) | The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.) | The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.) | |||
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Fraulein Bowles
Standing outside in the stairwell of the chemistry building, smoking a cigarette, I began to think about recent changes in my life which began to make me a little sad. The changes have been good, generally, but in that fucked up way, I've already begun to miss the potential leaving of blessings and to feel the sadness that I might feel when I am left as lonely as ever. Why can't I just be happy and not have to look ahead to when things will be bad? So I called Sophistica on the handy cellular phone that was in my pocket and got her to go to coffee with me. She had been up most of the night reading--I can't remember the name of the novel now, something by Paul Bowles. After coffee, she and I walked over to Birdsong, a used bookstore and browsed for an hour or so. I bought some Gertrude Stein, Borges, Soseki, Jung, and a Susan Sontag collection of short stories for Max's mother because she showed me a story that she wrote that reminded me of a story in the Sontag book. Then we had to come back to the lab so that I could finish running a gel. When that was done, I came home. I began a serious paper journal again today, in a nearly empty lab notebook about recent changes in my life, and I've devoted half of my journal to letters to people which I want to send but shouldn't (Sue, for spewing her poison and ruining a friendship which I enjoyed (with Kelly) and a friendship which I endured (with Sra), and Sra herself, whose behavior towards me recently hurt my feelings until I wrote this letter and realized that she had always behaved this way towards me to some extent, but that I had pushed it aside because I wanted to be her friend. Now I wonder why I ever did that. Stupid, Sublingua. Stupid.) I checked my email to find some nearly sent pictures from MayFlower who is in Ecuador. (She thought she had attached something but hadn't.) I came home then and downed some chocolate and some chips and green chili hummus left over from last night's bbq at Stona and Sqeeze's apartment. Now, I'm about to close this up and clean a bit, and tonight M and I will either go to the studio or to a dollar movie with Soph or both or neither. It'll all be okay, I think. "..what was unbearable was the thought that he was innocent and that he was going to be humiliated by being treated as though he were guilty. What he dreaded encountering was his own powerlessness in the face of injustice."-Paul Bowles, The Spider's House
More lies:
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