the widening gyre.

i thought of my myths today, as i often do. i blame joseph campbell quoting yeats, this time. the trick (the first one) is this: if you like fool, you will eventually think that you are fool. and once you think that you are fool, you will become fool. that is when the problems take shape and become things you can dance with. sometimes i find myself wishing that i could just be one thing or the other, rather than absolutely always being the third thing, the separate thing that stands between or outside of two that thought they were opposites. but then i realize how terribly dull and easy that would be. besides, i'm too full of myself to be anything other than what i am at any given moment.

i was lazy today. i ate lots of fruit, because sometimes i think i'm getting scurvy.

i went to cosi with liz and stine. we ate brie and fruit and chocolate and smoothies. we paid our check, and we did not leave. after quite some time, we decided to order again. we got warm things to drink. we played with geometry and shared favourite words. (mine is still desideratum. liz's is either snarky or smarmy, and stine's is spaghettification.) i love my tribe.

liz is going back to pittsburgh tomorrow. there has been a linguistic shift. once i was sad that liz was leaving. now i am sad that she is leaving without me. i am in love with philadelphia. i would not have happened anywhere but here. i have loved coming back to this skyline since i was a child. but it is not home. it is an ex-lover of whom i am extremely fond, but am satisfied to have moved beyond. i am not where i belong.

my phantom tattoo is glowing again, the trial bone piece. i wonder if i'll ever get it nailed down.

the subway and the el are the cross on which philadelphia is crucified.

dear septa,

i believe in the rights of workers to strike. your job is fairly shit, and and your bosses really shouldn't be screwing with your health insurance. you deal with many of us in the morning when we're tired and angry, and many of us at night when we're tired and drunk, which, in this city, is deserving of a nomination for sainthood.

so, boys in charge:

some of us have already bought our monthly transpasses. could you please keep in mind that you are the most expensive public transportation system in america? philadelphia is a big city. what in the hell are you doing with our money?

i am not above bargaining with pity. tomorrow is the anniversary of the day my dad died. be nice to me.

thank you for your consideration in this matter.

sincerely,
p. dreadful: third generation septa whore