Hey, I have been making more poetry memes. This new one “addict’s prayer” is a favorite. Mother God, please heal my fucked reward pathway.
They’re very meaningful to me, but I get the feeling nobody cares. Well, probably like four people care. That’s cool.
I wrote a full on addict‘s prayer poem last night, crying in bed. This poetry meme is the cliff notes version.
I’m proud of that meme–I took the photo yesterday as the wind storm started. Someone had dumped the free box contents in the street. When I made up the hashtags, I invented the word guttermancy. Yep, I’ve been doing that all my life. My childhood = guttermancy.
Yesterday I made this one about amazingness longevity.
I wrote that sentence on a scrap of fabric in the bedroom, months ago. Then I would find the fabric scrap periodically and be like, “Oh yeah, this is the fabric scrap I wrote on. What did I write on it again?”
I also made this one based on something a friend said in group the other night. When I made the meme last night, I asked his permission to consider it my own, or if he would prefer I consider it a collaboration. He said it could be my own, or a collaboration between me and the mycelium. Ourcelium–hahaha.
I think these are brilliant. I have a dying poet friend who is offline–I want to print a bunch of these memes on cardstock and mail them to him to hold and read. But I don’t know if his eyes work like that anymore, and his mind. Not sure how dying he is right now.
Miss Eaves
Then I watched a Miss Eaves video this morning “Cactus Killer” that I had never seen before. I see it has few views, and I’m like–why have so few people seen this?
Seems slick–the video must have been labor intensive? It’s glossy. Maybe she is being not that understood also. The cactus killer feel might be too obscure? People don’t care about plant stuff?
Well, I think she’s hilarious. I love her independence and brilliant urban vitality. I wish I could have that too.
