Glide food line vs Tartine Bakery line

Not sure what I'm trying to say with this, but I think about this a lot.

Translation of Chinese recitation assignment for tomorrow

I am American, I can speak English, I also can speak a little Chinese. She is my Chinese teacher, my teacher is very good. She is Chinese, she speaks Chinese, she also speaks a little English. By the way, how about you? May I ask, what nationality are you? What language can you speak? Can you speak Chinese?

Suffering because I cannot be all the things I want to be.

I want to read and write poetry nonstop, and all I have time to do is homework.

Some I like a lot. Writing a paper, a critical review of a case study, and somehow, luckily get to incorporate Post-Structuralism into an ESL learning paper! Got so excited about it I got heart palpitations as I pulled out Of Grammatology.

I also want to do intense ashtanga practices 6 days a week. I'm on the every other day track which is OK, but I always lose something on the day off, and so come to every class with an exhaustion in me. Also a pulled hamstring.

I love the idea of learning Chinese, I love when I look at texts and I can recognize some things, but 2-3 hours a day studying it is exhausting, but will be cool after the fact.

Can't make any poetry readings or any of the free school stuff... But would I have been too exhausted to go anyway with the old job and commute?

I thought since this was my third master's I could just breeze through, and when everyone else is stressing I'd have the time to write but doesn't seem that it is the case. Maybe I should take 3 classes instead of 4 next semester...though it will probably be better when I am not taking a language class (though I wanted to continue in a noncredit or non-school affiliated place).

And the stack of library books up to my thigh, mostly theory, criticism, some poetry, a few novels, want to absorb it all, all simultaneously, but time...

Fell asleep in Viparita Karani, and was thinking about the chinese word yidiar,  it is so complicated has four characters, maybe two of those are really one, but it means "a little bit" and the characters are the words for "one" "black" "dot." One of the radicals that is part of one of the characters means "walking man." Laughing to myself in post yoga happiness about "a little bit" equalling "one black dot."


一點兒

The Structure of English 9/20/12

The emptiness will be filled by the "did."

Any and all kinds of emptinesses are not called a trace,
only a particular kind of emptiness.

Null is created by the movement.

Why do we need displacement?


If an apartment is occupied,
you cannot just move into it.
The guy will be mad at you.


This container is a host
but it is a temporary host,
you cannot stay there forever.

The ability to recognize gaps is a normal activity.

Morning is a container and night is a point.

The book does not move.

Second Language Acquisition 9/19/12

Unfringeable.

Collocation for quiet.

Islands of reliability.

"Characteristically empty symbols filled with stereotypical content."

                  chocolate, bread, information

                                          perlocutionary force

The five ingredients.

Formulaicity is ubiquitous.

Professor chunking.

binomials, rock and roll, black and white


We aren't original.

The Structure of English 9/18/12

You cannot survive.

The yellow leaf is falling to the ground.

There are various kinds of situations.
Senses give us perceptual states.

The noise is moving.

The yellow leaf is not an agent.

The location is a person.

Love is a very curious mental state.

Would Mary have a mental state?
Not in this sentence.

Fear is a metaphored entity that travels
from one location to another.

The Structure of English 9-13-12

We live in the world. 

We are surrounded by journeys. 

There are journeys to nowhere. 

But assume this is a journey to somewhere. 

A fragment of a clause.

“of the” is not a unit.

John thinks that I wonder if he hates me.

This is the cat that killed the rat that ate the cheese that…

Why did language 

design 

this property-

complexity of thought. 

Language reflects our complexity.

If understanding creates anxiety.

What is ruining education in this country are tests.

The fact that we know

that we don’t know

whether or not

Lew Welch is alive.

by land or by sea

rage is a container (she flew into a rage)

We sit in a chair because a chair is a container.

“into” means basically to in, but English speakers invert it.

MATESOL classmate: “My personal life wavelengths are all awry.”

Professor: “I don’t normally laugh at things.”

The door closed. The door is undergoing the action, the door is not the agent of the action.

Notes from The Structure of English class 9-6-12

There is no theory of theory construction.

Theories cannot be built without making an assumption.

There are two ifs.

Everything is a container.

Pronouns are not nouns.

I bullied kids at school in (when would Mitt Romney have been in school?) 1982.

New Work

You can see my name in three new places.

NAP

Metazen

and Flavorwire talking about Metazen (not really about me, but my name is there!)

Thanks Janey.

Giraffe

I'd been writing a follow-up poetry chapbook to The Unicorns, written in the same way, a line an hour on the hour, in the cubicle. Since I quit my job I think this project has to be done. Rarely do my writing projects end so tidily! Just have to type up some scraps I took home, lots of scraps, mostly on those loose leaf page-a-day calender pages and in one little work notebook. Was calling it My Favorite Giraffe T-shirt, because it must have a creature in its title, and I have a favorite giraffe t-shirt. But this means I will have 2 chapbooks and a book book ready to be published.

I got the unsalty version and really am regretting it.

Incompossible Concordance

The Incompossible has:

5 references to birds or pigeons, 1 (absent) seagull.
4 references to suicide.
9 references to night or nightmares.
1 twin peaks reference.
1 fairy tale reference.
2 references to unicorns or the lack of them.
3 references to the color yellow.
4 references to the color red.
3 references to the color blue.
3 references to keys.
5 references to mirrors.
10 references to reality.
2 references to pirates.
3 references to anxiety.
There is 1 vortex.
4 references to quiet.
There are 6 secrets and 4 enigmas.
16 references to the World.
There are 3 dreams and 1 daydream.
2 references to naps.
5 references to pills.
1 Christmas poem and 1 Easter poem.
5 references to certainty.
3 references to sex.
8 occurrences of "belief" or "believe"
4 blankets.
9 references to Thought.
4 sadnesses.
6 references to mother, 1 to grandmother, 2 to Father.
4 references to tables.
And  the sentence "What I am repeating I will delete." - only once(!)

Napowrimo Day 30

From banking to baking.
Existence's evidence's light
with no known light source.

Not having seen balloons today.
Everything is potentially hippie.
"To-day." The mind-stuffs in flux.

Kierkegaard and the concept of dread.
Lew Welch's study of Gertrude Stein.
Robert Duncan's hustling.

How the present is present.

I
made
a list
of
every-
thing.

Napowrimo Day 29

After buying Chinese herbs on ebay,
everyone buys oil paintings.

Visarga of me.

The product you make
while pretending to enjoy
just being in process.

How the nervous
can hurt those without
nerves.

Lists just accumulating.
Reading A Void as avoid.
To just get rid of errands.

Taking a picture of my oven.
Printing out the picture of my oven.
Emailing Zack the picture of my oven.
Here is the picture of my oven.

Napowrimo Day 28

Learning to not say mundane
things when I'm thinking
deep things.

Contradictory events.
Etymological seduction attempt.
How what you settle for
is what you really want.

The loose tube top. Flouncy.
Nobody hates the park.
"It's a spliff."

The soundtrack to the spectacle.
With beads hanging off.
The only ones who won't hurt me
are those I don't love.

Anything I could list out now
would not be as great as
that woman's ass in the magenta
sundress.

Unable to find her again after
writing that sentence.

The point where everything
starts to go. I don't remember
writing this. We think he's a baker.

"When I get drunk I always start talking about horses."

Napowrimo Day 27

Attempting a neutral mind-set.
Finding the right lyrics site.
The italical ending
                 or an other one.
Unable to scroll.

How irritation is hormonal.
How we should just stay sleeping.

The other voice's interception.
Colors as a verb.
The unattributed pause.

This ordeal is almost over
and when it continues
I want to know what to do
with it like I always never
know.

Every cycle a sequence.

I don't like the pain
because I like the pain,
I like the pain because
of what I will get out
of it later.

Giving a better ending.
"Regressed to the point of infinity."

jumping [the] guns

Napowrimo Day 26

If awareness ends seeking.
This will be the official list.
The atheist's ire. Wanting
to not eat and just do.Not
sure if I said the wrong thing
or not. Inability to relax.

I will tell her
my energy levels are perfectly
aligned but my neck hurts.

I dreamed about something fake.

That my intellectual pursuits
are a metaphor for transvestism.

Waiting for the part
that's coming
but that's been
cut out of the remix.

My own body odor an exotics.

I didn't mean to make a list.
How being healthy is an isolating act.

Napowrimo Day 25

Who is the night, as a completely rational question.
Edit becomes Exit becomes Exist.
The day passed and I went with it.

Someone noticed I was dressed up.
I didn't say why.
I held the door for one of those men
that don't usually notice me
and I remembered my dream
until the radio came on.

Is there a way to eat chocolate
and not eat chocolate.

It is a super weird trick you are doing.
I don't know this one.

My own inconsistencies.

The problem of sex
is not a problem of sex
per se and not a problem
of thinking about sex, it is
the problem of how to get it.

Napowrimo Day 24

Life is intermediary, always.
A constant indeterminacy.
Becoming less and less intelligible
as time goes on.

Making every excuse except
the real excuse.

Eating fried apple turnovers
while trying to get away
from the ghost of you
who I guess is you.

There is no longer anything hanging off the seat.
"I'm not the one."

Making lists doesn't help
if the only thing you have time
to do is make lists.

I don't know why I have this famous reputation.
She cuts her hair short in order to wear barrettes.

In this particular time zone situation.
Conceptual reading.

Napowrimo Day 23

Not that I'm dreaming in Sanskrit
already. But kutra kutra kutra!
In between the I believe
and the I don't believe.

The gong cellphone tone.
Bus metaphor.
I will take anything in a pink box.

Wondering if the assignment is worthy.
Shouting into the anti-breath.

Why are you waiting. Verte.

What hurts from misuse.
"Rip" in the fog-rain, waking
up saying Thank you Thank you
Thank you over and over

to the empty air.

Napowrimo Day 22

Not only am I your charioteer,

Is it because I'm reading
about Dada, that I do something
so inane, something slightly immoral,
and for no apparent reason whatsoever.

The Heidegger girls, like the Vivian girls.

The time I befriended the cool girl's
nerdy sister to get in with the cool
crowd, and it worked, but both of them
mad at me afterwards, and me a nerd
ever since.

The austerity of yogurt with fruit not at the bottom.

Hearing the guy in the subway
playing Knocking on Heaven's
Door and then ever since having
it repeating in my head concurrently
with a Smashing Pumpkins song. The one
with the pretty bells.

The mystery of the future is not
something I can feel in my body.

but I also am Krishna.

Napowrimo Day 21

What I missed from three years ago.
The poem leads me astray. Or
The poem leads me away from what
Has led me astray. My new subject
Matter. Hugging the waitress. After
What's killing us had killed us,
We are free. Need more ab work.
Three days out of they year when I don't
Need to wear pants. Remember to take
Your chai tea home with you before
You get fired. When I had hope I had
All my art postcards. With me. The shroud
And why I kept rolling on pins. The way
You are deluding your self about the flute.

Napowrimo Day 20

Resistant to what I have to do,
having done so much already.

Wheel turning, in the interim.

The attention and the notice.

If I dreamt I was doing back flips
in the air. Like an unread book.

Triad of false wisdom.

Winter's fade/
summer's glare.

Linking what you've told me
with what you've done.

I have no complaint,
but whispers irritate me.

The red drink's healing properties.

I did not nap; that kind of hangover.

The negation unsaid.

Not dressing casual on Fridays.

Driving alone's connotation.

In a stable, in a cubicle.
At least we are allowed to wander around.

Napowrimo Day 19

"Because I had spent a large portion of my life blocking out my surroundings" - Avital Raz

I secrete secrets onto the floor in a language you cannot read.

Capable of instant adjustments.

Escape is an isolation.

When you really look at what you fear, does it disappear?

Thankfully lost.

A lot going on behind me that I'm blocking out.

Turning off the sound but not the music.

Blending together my inside and my outside.

Whenever the shout comes.

The good scenery and the bad.

Waiting on the winkless watered down, calls quietly.

In the other windowless room.

If the problem of loneliness is resolved
when you come into communion with it.

Listening and not hearing.
Laughing in the hum.

Wakeful this time, I've slept enough now.

Napowrimo Day 18

Ruff

One half of the mix I thought would
save me, playing, while we are approaching.

Her.

Everything understood.
Too much looking down.

The measurement of language.
The liberality of order.
Elizabethan dreaming.

Riding with my head back the whole way instead of forwards.

Before the sky.
Too bad I wasted that.

Accidentally halving everything.

Napowrimo Day 17

Cornflower blue
checkerboard kitchen
window curtains.
"I'm not finished yet."

The ________ key without.

Rape dream while the mother is talking
on her cell phone, oblivious
of the green grass, the blue sky.

Every part of me rising upward.

I am such a dreamer
in my fabulous tax-day fashion.
Black and purple.

If you write
cute little notes
to the taxman. Say Sara
says hi.

The fog hovering.

Completely injured.
But I know the solution.

Better halved.
Locust locomotos. Whether it is
peace or sloth that sits waiting
in the ocean. Not waving.

Napowrimo Day 16

The clock on the wall is only
a memory. Things aren't where
they used to be. Things that are
no longer where they used to be
are no longer.

It is
not necessary
to be
in this much
pain.

Remembered the codeine
pills, but forgot
my oatmeal. The Valerian
tea seems to be stinking
up the entire train.

The recipe for forgetting.
Laughing at incendiary.
Setting fire.

What used to make me so nervous now
just relaxes me.

I don't think you're real.

Is this the end or the beginning.
Is this the end of the beginning.

In between the RV trailer
and the playing field. I
always forget.

Napowrimo Day 15

Today is not tax day.
I refuse single-use
vicodin vicodin vicodin
in order to quit chocolate.

Tagged laundry room door.
Rolling on the foam roller.
Waking to the phone, talking
without lifting my head. Green
pomade. Should I use it for this
or should I use it for that. Having

appropriated from the mainstream
—it does not notice what we have
evaporated from it. At 4:00 I will
eat a second lunch.

                           Later, at epiphanies
my neck will no longer hurt, when
I've gotten you off it. The fly
buzzing around me intoxicated I
cannot move, but flinch

in my stillness.

Napowrimo Day 14

When you stopped dreaming it was because
you had dreamed everything.

The ancestry password I can never remember.

If I ever think about slitting my wrists anymore,
it is just fleeting.

Back on the right path.
Needing to rest.

Instructions to keep doing more things
so that you can finally finish.

The broken appliances, on roller skates, sitting
next to her.

Trying to remember what I was thinking
by remembering where I was when I thought it.

Trying not to want what I want because
I never get what I want.

How the memory of something is both transitory
and completely tangible.

Napowrimo Day 13

Another words.

Crossing out time tables.



Cookie Monster eats vegetables now.



                                                       penalty applies



I only like them yellow.

When I get my will power back.

Pandesal.



Wait for the next cycle.

Something is rolling towards me.






Got out of that one.

Napowrimo Day 12

This blue dread. The previous
image overlaid over the present.
The dreams we do not follow.
Whether the destruction of non-
existence is more non-existence
or less.

Too textual to match. The pillow-
rain. Nothing but mugshots and a weird
sweating. The children in the back-
ground. Falling asleep until my book
falls. Simplicity's difficulty.

What I want when I'm asleep.
The difficulty of movement.
Sometimes somebody. The dreams
reddened into fog. Choosing
the untextual. Waking my
ambience, not my ambivalence. Auto-

graphic lumen, and what is about to fall
off of me, laden. Matching my bookmark
to my shirt. When yes is a no is a no
is a yes. My subject matter fading. Your
alluring agency.

Napowrimo Day 11

Liking what I didn't like before.
The train smelling like mold
in the rain. How can they just
close up a whole side like that?
Not sure if we changed tracks yet
or not. Faith in the invisible.

Dream of a really old abandoned
pickup truck. And you are fixing
something, tools
are everywhere.

Throwing food at the barking
dogs. The food is not really food.
Blown-up air balloons resembling food.

Missed a lot, listening.
Missing what overlaps.
Flashes of colorwheels.

Lacking the status to appropriate.
How end times' ending ends. Lie
to me. Fighting the matriarchal
patriarchy.

Napowrimo Day 10

"You can remember someone many times but you can forget them only once." --Tan Lin

My darkness running out.
Loving the two. Like land. Like torn
knickers. Like lintels.

Where are the waves.
The invisible hand pushing
and falling down the stairs
in the dark. The park

I could never find. A totem
for the present. Less represented
on the map than you. Disbelieving
the offer of help. Our souls
torn out of us. The pretension
of family that is not family
at all.

Trying to find what I've missed
but not finding anything. Unable
to remember what I've forgotten.

The bottom step.

Napowrimo Day 9

Destroyed my red coat.

Satisfied at what I was trying
to do, but now I have to do
it in inverse. Instead of wanting
one, now I want everything.
Found her in the un-park
unflying an unkite with her
undog. An unher. Later
after coffee, cigarettes, chocolate
we hear what they are saying
in the remix, overdubbed. Un-
transcribable agreement of opposites.

It is that sound that I want.

Moving every part of me that I
never loved. In the quiet parts
what I hear in the other distance.
The fears of youth, my favorite
disappointment. Dunes, wrapped
up in.

Napowrimo Day 8

I think maybe I lost a day. Sub-
scribing to the innermost marrow.
You know that I know that I know
that you know. I know that you know
that you know that I know. Bliss.
Stoicly breathing. Spicy tuna.
"Play"'s slideshow. For everyone

and to everyone. What I can't get
to because I've covered it up. All
the dirt comes off so easily, just
like in the dream. Painting over
graffiti. The unicorn outside my
window. Overdoing it for a future
underdoing it. Anuloma Viloma,
Anuloma Viloma, Anuloma Viloma,
obsessively.

Napowrimo Day 7

The formal command.
Having run out of ink.
Finally reading something
I don't understand that I
understand. 8 ways to share
mixtapes. Having dyed my hair
dark, I wonder if I should dye
it darker. Cringy memories, how
do I get out of here. Seven hands
and you are on your own. Having
processed everything into perfection.
The vision I once had of the language I
couldn't read, learning it now.
Everyone has to be so cool and
everything is illegal.

Napowrimo Day 6

"Of things I'd rather keep
in silence I must sing"
(The Countess of Dia).

The old man my mentor
pointing out the Hershey's
Syrup in the bookshelf.
There is no fence.
The sink is clean.
My avatar is in a bikini.
All the complaints come to naught.
The fish swims away.

Lemon candy, or that which
we'd rather not come to,
but take when offered.

Download everything and then ignore it.
Trying to destroy my SD card.
Walking away and not towards.
Venus Lock.
Having come to our opposite edges,
duplicity is seen to be truth.

Napowrimo Day 5

At least I'm backwards
but I don't have white sunglasses
and am not sitting alone.
Friends talking to each other
across the aisle.

The angel's progress.

Fantasizing about practicing
my Sanskrit script. Using
my nasal spray instead. Sleeping
instead. Listening to music
instead. But this is why
I never get sick any more.

All my messages meant for machines.

I am only worthy of getting what I want
if I can perform magic.

Napowrimo Day 4

The terror of time in all
the dreams I remember. How
seeing something is true frees you
from that thing. Waiting to see what will
happen with only a slight expectation.
The train's gravity.

Seems like its the half way point
but its really the two-thirds of the way point.
Forwarding to the song I like while
my music is on random. If a pulsing,
surrounding, repeating sound
could be translated into text. Curtains.
The ridiculousness of that one thing.
And what about the fade.

The point where the train
brakes hard tricking you into
thinking you are almost there. If the end
to sweetness would allow it to continue
in such a way that we'd not have the sweetness
in our hearts scaring us so much. The
simultaneity of hurt feelings.

Not what I want to talk about.

Napowrimo Day 3

Limitless spellbound redemption.
In the doorless car.
Having been flapped on the head
with a pigeon wing. Not what
is about to be carried away so much
as what must I get out of the way of.
For. From. How scarcity makes you hungry.
How sparcity makes you horny.
Because I kind of knew this before.
I'm not sure the present circumstances
are the exact cause. Is life an always
looking for something new I don't know
about? Everything falling towards me
because of the way it is placed.

Napowrimo Day 2

Yesterday's unknown.
Yesterday's angel
lost in the rocks
at the sea, but also
                           to always
be found there. Time is
what was. I don't know
what is.

                          That which
is hidden and that
which knows. Vs. That
which is that which
one would rather not be.
But it is that that is
in the what is. And so is
is in the acceptance of
the that, that one would
rather not be, working with
it, that it can become
that which one wishes. Bi-

consonantal
conjuncts.

Napowrimo Day 1

"You need to direct me."
Pictures of Amy and Oakland Bart.
When the water frightens me
because of all the disorder
and walking on land barefoot.
The unknown underneath
me. Beach Poem #1.

I also have Plato. Laura
is taking off her clothes.
She's coming over.
I felt like I ate all the bread
but I only ate some of the bread.
There is sand everywhere
and the wind is freezing.
Why do people like this?

Here comes Yosefa.
She is bundled up she looks cold.
The flirty seagull. I call him a hottie,
he flies away just as the picture
is about to be shot. Commitment phobic.
I think my phone is on roaming.
Beach Poem #1 is probably the only
Beach Poem there is going to be.
"Hey California was settled before the Seventies."
Solitary acts in the presence of a group.

At the beginning of primary series this morning, maybe because there were a lot of new people, but it was totally chaotic, from the beginning no one was waiting for teacher to tell us to jump up or whatever, they were all just doing it on there own, and it seemed not the time for doing it on your own, and like I wondered if teacher felt like he'd lost control or was losing control of the class, but of course he just went with it and said you are your own teacher, awesome. Then I started thinking how awesome chaos is, and accepting it and going with the flow is one of those scary zen things that you get to face in yoga. Scary only second to Bhuja Pindasana, don't know why that one scares me more than handstand right now.

But thinking about chaos and losing control and allowing it and seeing where it takes you, contrasted with the extreme discipline of otherwise, and how another teacher once said never get ahead of the yogi next to you and stay in sync, which is sweet and communal, and takes you out of ego, but also can be somewhat militaristic and overly disciplined. Think maybe in the beginning when you are building up prana energy and so forth it is better to have the discipline way or it will just get scattered, but after a certain while, once you do have a lot of prana/kundalini energy, I think that can be repressive and too much of a constraint, next level is CHAOS! And how awesome to just open that energy up into the unknown, that is where the creative takes place.

DeMarco kind of looks like the melting face nazi in raiders of the lost ark, or maybe I just want to see it...

Satya

I've never much understood what Keats meant by Truth or what truth means in a religious context, but just came across something describing Satya, which states that Truth is a form of constancy and unchangeability, and I understand that better. Merely avoiding lies seems annoying and pointless, everyone lies randomly - it doesn't seem to be a great spiritual thing to not do that, like white lies or lies from not thinking clearly. But to be constant in a larger way does seem so. If you love something or someone, then to always love it/them, that sort of mental stability, that kind of "decision," is great and spiritual it seems, and yes one of the 8 limbs...

Tried to go to this, but it was so packed I left shortly. Long walk for not much!

He is going to be speaking at the Occupy Move-in Day Rally Saturday (someone gave me a flyer) - maybe I will go. Haven't been to a single Occupy thing yet, what kind of intellectual am I?!

I want to get his book Debt, but $32.
Standing near the Surrealism wall, I also want Women in Dada: essays on sex, gender, and identity, and In the Shadow of its Shadow: Surrealist Writings on the Cinema. Funny how I prefer reading books about Surrealism to reading Surrealist works themselves, with a few exceptions...

Did a two-hour arm balancing workshop this weekend and neither my arms nor my wrists are sore in the least. Boo. But my hips are killling me and I have a gigantic black bruise on my right hip from "bouncing" from koundinyasana to eka pada koundinyasana I, my new trick kind of. Or what ashtangayoga.info calls kaundinyasana a to kaundinyasnan b.



then a fun little bounce to:



Sort of ouch.







So I learned that, and I learned to get one foot off the wall in my pincha mayurasana. Which I just recently am able at all to get both feet on the wall for.

I cannot do the jump throughs or backs still forever.

But did realize, in Bhuja Pidasana that I can lift my feet off the ground, by just lifting my feet off the ground. Not ready to put the head forward though, but wanted to try it in primary series this morning but could not go because I could not sleep last night, because I acted in my first Poets Theater tonight. Nerve wracking, but once I was up there, it was much much less nerve wracking than giving a poetry reading because all the people up there with you, your energy is diverted into them or something...

Went to acupuncture before-hand, and she gave me some "calming pills" Thank You. And then I had rum in my coke, and then we did tequila shots so even though I flubbed a line, I still felt calm about it and it didn't lead to a catastrophe of flubbings.

Three One-line Friend Facebook updates in a row all together

I wish it were otherwise


you'll find my truth in the relentless mid.sentence, listen close . . .



my former residence is essentially on rent strike. sad i missed the party.

Have been, I think, meditating too much, an hour a day, sometimes almost two hours. Think sometimes too much is too much, it brings up darknesses, buried emotional stuff from long ago I didn't know was still in me. But realized today as I bought this Krishnamurti book, that, unlike P. Jois' view of yoga, you really can't or shouldn't do meditation without theory, remembering these ideas - say, like all problems come about because of the conception of time. So realizing that in my little miseries, I can come out of it. And what mediation does really is increase your energy, life force, kundalini, but how do you use it? If you let it, it will attach itself to the dark stuff swirling around in you, but if you use that extra energy - using your thoughts in these ways - then I don't think necessarily the dark stuff will come up.

This has happened to me so much in my life that I thought it was a part of meditation, and maybe it is. But I never quite know what to do with it and I wonder if just diverting the energy away is the answer, or is that repressing? I do remember thich nhat hanh, i believe, in his book on anger, saying giving energy to anger as it rises only makes it worse, and you should transform it. So I think he is right because he doesn't seem repressed or like he is harboring unresolved issues. The issues are there to see for a moment and then dissolve.

Chardonnay Enlightenment!

December 2011

PROACTIV $49.90
BART $180
EATING OUT $142.60

HEALTH COSTS - ACUPUNCTURE/HERBS $84
DENTIST $174.34
PRESECRIPTIONS $130.59

WALGREENS-$105.81

GROCERIES=$196.30:

PUBLISHING COSTS $135.08

MUSIC/BOOKS/CLOTHES:$250.50 (OOPS)

ATM WD:$160

BILL PAYMENTS: $481.54

RENT: $900

$2,990.66 spent, NOT INCLUDING AIR TRAVEL RELATED, or CHRISTMAS PRESENTS (december only)

TAKE-HOME PAY $2,122.56

$868.10 IN THE RED

Would be almost OK if I bought NO music/books/clothes, quit all publishing endeavors, and ignored my health entirely.

Will try again next month... Feel like I'm always making the biggest mistake eating out/shopping at Bi-rite, but doesn't appear to be the big issue...

Also did not include yoga which I only pay for every four months but is $105 a month...

Just cut my own bangs, so don't need a haircut. But I do need shampoo.

2012

Thinking through a very complicated math problem during corpse pose tonight, my first night back at Asta after over a week. And after corpse pose, Rene talks to us, and brings up math, synchronously. As a parallel to ask us why we are doing yoga, what is it for... and always it is always for spirituality for me. Not necessarily mastering the asanas. Have been wondering though, as I am starting to get pincha mayarasana, what is a parallel in real life to gaining that pose, which is strength based almost entirely (also fear issues), and it finally occurred to me that "strength" in real life would be self-confidence. So that plus more extroversion are my new years resolutions.

I think an alternative to black eyed peas on New Years Day might be red velvet cake flavored ice cream?

Also as I am reading the Collected Lectures of Jack Spicer, I want to start writing a poem a night, dictation style. A series called Dictation? Also to combine my long time desire to write a project of project-less poems (ever since reading Poetry is not a Project).

Also doing another budget to see how far off I am. Will do another at end of January since I lowered 401K contribution and am no longer getting a commuter check so will have a little more cash flow... Budget Blog Post coming soon.

The math problem I was trying to do was, as someone once said, for every day you are off of yoga, you have to do yoga twice that amount to get back your practice. So I had my last SF yoga class of 2011 Thursday the 23rd, then I took a Power Yoga class in Austin on Tuesday, then a Baptiste class in Ft. Worth on Friday, then tonight's class which is Sunday. So that is four days off, one day on, two days off, one day on, one day off, and then I am back. So, 4 days means I need 8, then I took one day, so I'm at 7, then two days off, so I'mm at 11, then one day on, so I'm at 10, then one day off again, and I am at 12, then today I'm back, so won't be back to normal until January 12. Although I'm not doing 12 days in a row...

The Texas yoga was OK, as far as exercise goes, but there was no chanting, no meditation, no pranayama, no bandhas. Kind of Methodist yoga... I think they all already have a religion so they ignore that part? Or maybe I just picked the wrong studios. The other Really Weird Texas Yoga Moment, was this girl was wearing a bandolier with bullets on it, though she took it off before class started, and placed it in one of the cubbyholes, which was right by where I was, and I stared and stared, are those bullets!? Namaste! The light in me salutes the lightning in you.