I decided to do a pencil drawing of my own face.

Amazing, it actually looks something like me.

The eyes are too far apart, and it's a rough sketch,

but:

it is the most lifelike drawing I've made.

I've been saving this swear for years

Being alive and myself is fucking brilliant.

now again

now beginnings!

now that I am patched up,
something to say,
pleasant to go

you may see me standing
in the weak winter square
fluttering
like the fingers of the wind
in a cotton shirt

you say that I am pale
and small and tough
from growing
through a long ordeal

right you are!
I am beautiful
my backbone is
There



I wrote and published this last winter, but more people read my blog now, and I am proud enough of it to post it again.

Death Cab

I want to live where soul meets body
And let the sun wrap its arms around me
And bathe my skin in water cool and cleansing
And feel, feel what its like to be new

Cause in my head there’s a greyhound station
Where I send my thoughts to far off destinations
So they may have a chance of finding a place
where they’re far more suited than here

And I cannot guess what we'll discover
When we turn the dirt with our palms cupped like shovels
But I know our filthy hands can wash one another’s
And not one speck will remain

And I do believe it’s true
That there are roads left in both of our shoes
But if the silence takes you
Then I hope it takes me too
So brown eyes I hold you near
Cause you’re the only song I want to hear
A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere
Where soul meets body

A physics lesson, given for the entirely selfish reason that I need practice explaining things I know

The kilogram is a strange unit, yes? An SI mass unit referenced to a certain arbitrary physical object [the International Prototype Kilogram, funnily also known as Le Grand K] whose mass is actually fluctuating? Yes.

I read though, today, that if and when the coulomb is absolutely defined at [6.241 509 629 152 65 ×10 to the power of 18] elementary charges [an elementary charge is the charge carried by a single proton, although the absolute value of the charge of a single electron is the same], which has been proposed, the kilogram will become an SI derived unit, a much more respectable status.

If the coulomb had an exact numerical value based on a natural unit such as the elementary charge, this value could be combined with the definition of an ampere:

"the constant current which will produce an attractive force of [2×10 to the power of –7] newton per metre of length between two straight, parallel conductors of infinite length and negligible circular cross section placed one metre apart in a vacuum.", which must also be equal to a charge of one coulomb per second flowing past a fixed point.

Since force in newtons must equal [mass in kg times acceleration in metres per second squared]
one kilogram could be defined as the mass which will accelerate [2 x 10 to the power of -7] metres per second squared if subjected to the [2 x 10 to the power of -7] newton force which defines the ampere and therefore the coulomb.


Tell me whether or not this was remotely intellible. I want to get better at it.

My parents are talking about moving again. It feels lovely to know that if they do, I won't need to be dragged along.

I am considering a serial for Tom - Tom #3 - #6 ish.

It's a contest.

How long can I stand it?

Recently, five days became a ridiculous length of time.

I won't ask yet.

Delusion

Unnatural when a person rediscovers that she appears to maintain an existence outside of her own head. She is in fact visible. The walls are solid and cannot be sidled or spied through. Others claim to be people just like her. Impossible. If she held her breath long enough in the swimming pool, she would not become a clownfish, she would die instead. Die! Impossible. Apparently her feet are her own, and the pain is hers when she scalds them with coffee. But she can watch the scenario like a film. The others that claim to be people [perhaps they are people, in which case she isn't sure she'd like to call herself a person] claim a claim on her and call it Love. Impossible. It's another word for bossing her hologram around. Only an idiot would think this visible act was a self.

I am hyper serious.

Wherein everything I haven't written about drags around behind me. Like a catheter bag on a stand. [Metaphores!]

I haven't written about it because I'm lazy and it's ironic, but I find nothing harder or more annoying than translating vague picture reels of logical sequences into words. But words have to be able to do more than This.

I am like an obscure young paleontologist fully expecting to discover every one of Darwin's missing links while struggling to pour plaster into shellfish fossils. All of my colleagues are sniggering at me, and the talented ones think I am revolting.

Everybody's saying
that hell is the hippest way to go out
I don't think so

I've been working on a poem four or five days now. I have part of one stanza. I have lots of promise. I want very much to finish.

Tom-Tom #3 will come out in early November.

Going to school is less frustrating when your teacher understands more than you do. I like violin lessons. I do not like physics class.

book bag

I am sick of sewing and every activity [such as slicing cloth with super-sharp shears] related to it. After nearly two weeks I've finished a new book bag, barely in time, since my old one now has thumb-sized holes in the bottom. The new one is everything a book bag should be: sturdy and huge. It's as plain as was possible without using only one color, but the three colors I did use - dark purple, bright blue, off-white - made the construction and design more obvious in an esthetically awesome way, and I prefer this type of beauty to printed fabric or added ornamentation. I haven't been so happy with anything I've made myself since a self-fastening envelope in August. If my comp's USB ports were working I would post pictures. Some of you will be lucky enough to see it in the flesh [cloth].