Saturday, 9 February 2013



on the lip of a complete and utter nervous breakdown
rhythmic, angry, injecting volatile emotion, rang in my head
a riot grrrl

splintered psyches
unmitigated
have driven her even madder?
Laid in bed for three days just to be sure
The Bell Jar

dust, grit, and a wall of dirt – the earth, right there in the basement
psychic pain
some world seemed to fall away from under us, and keep falling and falling

she can be a bit frightening
her fierceness and originality

talk back to any inner voices
we may have lost a raw sense of how awful, terrifying, and bleak is the real thing
The Bell Jar restores the horror

sardonic and bitter
from deep within the self
trumpets crammed with sexual organs

the brute heart of a brute like you
the generational tugs, the hauntings

big, dark feeling
a toxic cocktail

mad and bad
Utterly unasked for





3pm, 9.02.13. misc notes/draft


trumpets crammed

crumpets trammed 


toxic cocktail 

coccyx whiptail 















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