Thursday, December 17, 2009

Splog (Anna Banana Split Log)

I realized I can't keep doing "under 430-word" posts on my Facebook wall... I need to write and it's pouring out like too much fucking whipped cream on an otherwise perfect banana split.

4 comments:

  1. I've been pondering why "holden caufield" lived and "esther greenwood" died.

    Coming of age novels, Roman a clefs really, why did the woman barely make it out of her 20's and stick her head in an oven, while the man lives on in god-like isolation, still worshiped though he hasn't published a thing in decades? (it's all kept in a safe in his hermitage in the backwoods of New England, I've read...when he dies, the safe will be opened and out will pour pure gold, or maybe just empty Reese's peanut butter cups n Oodles of Noodles packets)

    Am I bitter? Not anymore. I've survived. Mostly by hiding in bed with the covers over my head.

    But now I feel I need to speak for my sisters who didn't make it. The losers, misfits, rebels...gone...suicides, overdoses, car wrecks, looney bins

    There's an elephant in the living room and he's getting pretty stinky. It's 2009. Why does Sylvia Plath's terror of being a 1950's Stepford Wife still resonate so strongly?

    I want to take a few pot shots at the fucking elephant. Or at least shovel out a few buckets of his crap so I can THINK...

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  2. Can I say fuck and crap on this blog?

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  3. Oh, had a qualified astrologer do my chart. Now makes sense I am Virgo with Moon in Leo qualities, modified (and/or tormented) by Sagittarius rising.

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