scrapofpaper | but it's not against any religion to want to dispose of a pigeon

"One must have chaos in one to give birth to a dancing star."
--Friedrich Nietzsche

"There are many souls one will never uncover, unless one invents them first."
--Friedrich Nietzsche

"Holy"
I eat only sleep and air
and everyone thinks I'm dumb
But I'm smart because I've figured it out
I am slimmer than you are
And I am burning my skin off little by little
until I reach bone and self
until I get to where I am essential
until I get to where I am
Food doesn't even tempt me anymore
Because I am so full of energy and sense
I can even pass by water now
Because I am living off the parts of me that I don't need anymore
I could feel the slow drips of pain before
swirling inside where my lungs should have been
now I'm clean inside
I threw out hundreds of things that I didn't need anymore
All my dresses and bras
Stupid things like jeans and socks
Most days I float through the house naked so I can see myself in the mirrors
I have hundreds of them everywhere
And they talk back to me all the time
They keep me true and pure
They make sure I'm still here
When I know what I had to do
I took all my notebooks, all my manuscripts
And ate them page by page so I could take my words with me
I can finally control my life and even death
And I will die slowly like steam escaping from a pipe
This is my greatest performance
and all of the actresses who won my parts will say how wonderful
to let yourself go that mad
how wonderful to go on this kind of journey
and not care if you come back to tell the story
I scratch words on the walls now so people will visit this museum
and know how someone like me ends up like this
(they'll say there is art in here somewhere)
Everything that comes out of me is sacred
every fingernail, every eyelash, every hair
starvation is sacred and I scratch my bones against the windows at night
I light candles and feel myself evaporate
this body is a little church, a little temple
You can't see me now because I've gone inside
My family doesn't call anymore
My friends don't call anymore
You can't hurt me anymore. They can't hurt me anymore
Only I can
And that's okay
I don't need them anymore. I can live off me
I speak to me. I dance with me
I eat me
When they find me, I'll have a little smile on my face
And they'll wrap me in a white cloth and lay me in the ground
and say they don't understand
but I do. I don't hurt anymore
I'm not lonely anymore. I'm not sad I'm not pretty anymore
I made it through
I feel so holy and clean when I stretch out on the floor and sing
sometimes god comes in for a minute and says I'm doing fine
I'm almost there
Everyday I get a little closer to vanishing
Sometimes I can't stand up because the room moves under my feet
and I smile because I'm almost there, I'm almost an angel
One day when I am thin enough I'll go outside fluttering my hands so I can fly
And I will be so slight
That I will pass through all of you silently like wind
--Nicole Blackman

"Daughter"
One day I'll give birth to a tiny baby girl
and when she's born she'll scream and I'll make sure
she never stops.

I will kiss her before I lay her down
and will tell her a story so she knows
how it is and how it must be for her to survive.

I'll tell her about the power of water
the seduction of paper
the promise of gasoline
and the hope of blood.

I'll teach her to shave eyebrows and
mark her skin.

I'll teach her that her body is
her greatest work of art.

I'll tell her to light things on fire
and keep them burning.

I'll teach her that the fire will not consume her,
that she must take it and use it.

I'll tell her to be tri-sexual, to try anything
to sleep with, fight with, pray with anyone,
just as long as she feels something.

I'll help her do her best when it rains.
I'll tell her to reinvent herself every twenty-eight days.
I'll teach her to develop all her selves,
the courageous ones,
the smart ones,
the dreaming ones,
the fast ones.

I'll teach her that she has an army inside her
that can save her life.

I'll tell her to say Fuck like other people say The
and when people are shocked
to ask them why they so fear a small quartet
of letters.

I'll make sure she always carries a pen
so she can take down the evidence.
If she has no paper, I'll teach her to
write everything down on her tongue,
write it on her thighs.

I'll help her to see that she will not find God
or salvation in a dark brick building
built by dead men.

I'll explain to her that it's better to regret the things
she has done than the things she hasn't.

I'll teach her to write her manifestos
on cocktail napkins.
I'll say she should make men lick her enterprise.

I'll teach her to talk hard.
I'll tell her that her skin is the
most beautiful dress she will ever wear.

I'll tell her that people must earn the right
to use her nickname,
that forced intimacy is an ugly thing.

I'll make her understand that she is worth more
with her clothes on.

I'll tell her that when the words finally flow too fast
and she has no use for a pen
that she must quit her job,
run out of the house in her bathrobe,
leaving the door open.
I'll teach her to follow the words.

I'll tell her to stand up
and head for the door
after she makes love.
When he asks her to
stay she'll say
she's got to
go.

I'll tell her that when she first bleeds
when she is a woman,
to go up to the roof at midnight,
reach her hands up to the sky and scream.

I'll teach her to be whole, to be holy,
to be so much that she doesn't even
need me anymore.
I'll tell her to go quickly and never come back.
I will make her stronger than me.

I'll say to her never forget what they did to you
and never let them know you remember.

Never forget what they did to you
and never let them know you remember.
--Nicole Blackman

"When your work speaks for itself, don't interrupt."
--Henry J. Kaiser

"They call it the American Dream because you have to be asleep to believe it."
--George Carlin

"To travel is not to think, but to see things in succession, with one's life sensed in the measure of space. The monotony of landscapes slowly unrolling soothes our cares, infuses us with lightness and quiet, which the fevered traveler could never know on full-speed excursions. At the unhurried pace of horses stunned by the heat, the smallest accidents of the journey preserve their startling beauty. These are not fretful predicaments; rather, a calm and vital state of mind rules, which once belonged to all human races and is still preserved among us in the blood of nomads."
--Isabelle Eberhardt, In the Shadow of Islam

"Music, the knife without a hilt."
--Dorothy Dunnett