The sound of you sleeping

My Little India dinner then I came home ... and fell asleep.

Then I called you.

Then I fell back asleep.

Then I woke up to shower and wash my hair.

Now I go back to sleep. Again.

I'm so tired ...

The sound of you sleeping

Mephisto took off for home early today because he wasn't feeling well. Somehow, I do worry about him - the fact that he lives alone and might have an unhealthy lifestyle and diet.

I also worry that I worry because I feel sorry for him because he's lives alone - and I don't wanna do that; I don't think I should.

Ocho - 'Ay Que Frio'

Album: Ocho I



I woke up feeling like yesterday's stale milktoast, but after a salsa class and a pole practice session, I'm feeling nearly 100% (except for the aching back and the heavy, heavy eyes). The miracle of dance!

Goddess knows though, in the morning I'm gonna wake up feeling worse than I did today.

Everything is so stuffed up I feel like my head's about to explode. Literally.

Nose is stuffed (and dripping), ears are stuffed (no dripping - small blessing), throat's almost filled with post-nasal drip.

Really, any time now, my eyeballs are gonna get shot out across the room and bounce off the wall and onto the floor - very much like the bluetooth mouse Mephisto flung across his office in a tantrum last week.

Tom Waits - 'Little Drop of Poison'

Album: Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers And Bastards



There's gonna be a pole dance competition at the end of the year and the girls are a-titter with anticipation (I think). I know XY and Kim are planning to enter (prolly both in the solo and group categories), and Kim (being Kim) has picked wonderfully whimsical pieces of music such as this one, and The Dresden Dolls' 'Coin-Operated Boy'. I think theirs could be a lovely performance with costumes and make-up.

Maybe I should consider joining ... I'll prolly pick a trip-hop track or something like Bitter:Sweet's 'Dirty Laundry'.

But I'm not a performer, and I know it.

This is what I read you tonight:

For the Courtesan Ch'ing Lin

On your slender body
Your jade and coral girdle ornaments chime
Like those of a celestial companion
Come from the Green Jade City of Heaven.
One smile from you when we meet,
And I become speechless and forget every word.
For too long you have gathered flowers,
And leaned against the bamboos,
Your green sleeves growing cold,
In your deserted valley:
I can visualize you all alone,
A girl harboring her cryptic thoughts.

You glow like a perfumed lamp
In the gathering shadows.
We play wine games
And recite each other's poems.
Then you sing `Remembering South of the River'
With its heart breaking verses. Then
We paint each other's beautiful eyebrows.
I want to possess you completely -
Your jade body
And your promised heart.
It is Spring.
Vast mists cover the Five Lakes.
My dear, let me buy a red painted boat
And carry you away.



Wu Tsao
(Translated by Kenneth Rexroth and Ling Chung)

The sound of you sleeping

Tired out by a good class and practice session.

Archipelagos and peninsulas and islands of bruises. And burns.

The sound of you sleeping

Been having too many thoughts.

Dance - especially pole - makes for a damn good distraction.

The sound of you sleeping

The ulcer on the right side of my tongue is killing me. And there's something swollen on the same side of my neck, below the jaw. And I was caught in a drizzle walking Doggie earlier this evening.

Prolly should hit the sack soon (now) and hope everything's all right when I wake up tomorrow.

Sigh.

Yay! Instructions!

However did that elude me till now?

Read a poetry thread on Monkeyfilter, found some new poems, read some old, old ones in my portable hdd.

I do like Bukowski.

the sun
itself
knows
the sad truth of
how we surrendered
our lives
and deaths
to simple
ritual,
useless
craven
ritual,
and then
slinking away
from the face of
glory,
turning our dreams into
dung,
how we said
no, no, no, no,
to the most beautiful
YES
ever uttered:

life
itself.



Bukowski, Charles. "misbegotten paradise." Sifting through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way: New Poems. John Martin, ed. New York: Ecco, 2003.

The sound of you sleeping

Talking to you made me feel better.

The sound of you sleeping

I think I have much to think about.

Also ... I've been itching to dance. And I mean dance.

There might be a correlation - or not; I don't know.

Wonderful night - dinner at epicurious (definitely going back for their desserts which I didn't try tonight - I only had a salad and a burger) followed by drinks at eM By The River. Then a longish walk to the spitting merlion because Jaya wanted photos. So great to be seeing Jaya after - what, four years?

I'm whacked. Off to bed with you in my ear.