i will not be the overweight bulldyke; i will not be the pleasant middle-class white woman. my mind is a weapon, my body is a weapon. moving across the country and all i want to put in the suitcase are silky scarves, black skirts, prokofiev and collections of haiku. everything that is cotton, round, soft -- no. should i wear aggressive red lipstick? cut my hair short and bleach it white? should i make a muumuu out of used bike tubing and sleigh bells?

jesus, a revolution. at least for this afternoon.


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google aggressive photography and i get this:



NONONO.



but MARY ELLEN MARK, fuck me ragged.





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i want throwing knives to come out of the end of my fingers and poisonous hackles to rise on my back and my hair to smolder at its tips and my lips to be radioactive and everything risky, everything horrible, and everything ferociously beautiful.


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in california the sky is massive and low to the ground. the air is slow and heavy.
i am taller and stronger. i am moving to ohio to commit a crime of passion.

burn the scaffolding! love only ferociously! go!