Last year this time I was watching 'In a Glass Cage' every day.
Writing my last story about Archie.
Walking to work a half hour in the snow.
Listening to the Swans.
Tired of being kicked out of where I live.
Wanting to make "mistakes".
Life has no meaning to me without the big mistakes, the things you know are wrong and do anyways.
What I thought was the definition of sinning but never really believed in sin.
The obsessions.
A year later.
I still have a lurking key in the center of my life.
Keys from before I have memory. Twenty years.
Plural keys. Big plural keys of words like sex and death and addiction. Mother and father and community.
Things I may never know exist. Personal lake monsters, unicorns, chimeras, gods.
Things that may exist only because you do/don't want them to. (Watching 'I Heart Huckabees' everyone.)
But these words are also:
Rimbaud Robin Wojnarowicz Nitrous Children Kitten Cooper Milu Crews Who Fantasy Come Vodka Boy Television Car Smoke Priest Slash Annihilation

You notice this blog is very repetitive. If this blog is my mind, that would be absolutely the case.
Because yes this is a circle and a crescent and a big Libra spiral and rapture cycle.
I'm always thinking of whether I can defend what I say.
As much as I can dig and spill this psychic dust that seemingly has everything to do with seems (I should watch 'Capturing the Friedmans' again).
And still have faith I am not a complete fraud.
And still laugh at my fraudulence. And still know I am honest.
Like bad people think they're good and good people think they're bad.
And the only wrong ones are those that believe in those distinctions.
So I write this and will post this while I am at work. Knowing anyone can find it.
My bosses. My friends. The boy I'm seeing who works here. The people walking by over my shoulder.
But possibly, because I don't even believe myself. So no one else could.

So keep that picture of Rimbaud on the wall.
Maybe Wojnarowicz's mask wasn't all ironic.
What else is there possibly to be afraid of after poetry?
Even Hamlet shouldn't have been afraid of his bad dreams.
If Leos doubt themselves too much, we're all in trouble. And if Libras stop speaking, we're all doomed. And if Capricorns stop loving me, I will disappear.