drunk

and i want to call everyone and tell them i love them
and yet that somehow feels pathetic
but i do
i love my peops

sigh

my sober friend is visiting and finally i have anoher driver
and so i am makers mark manhattans influenced

and wanting to call everyone

i am channelling myself at 19

missing u

sean yay sean is flying away this morning
so very very sad
i forgot how good it is to have him around
he is a very good egg

drawing in cafes and laughing and pinching and rolling around wrestling in the grass
i have not laughed so much in a really really long time

and he always has good pee wee herman facts

he makes me remember the good things about who i was at 18.
yes i will most certainly miss him

Giantess THIS SATURDAY

Howdy Loved Ones
As you know I have been putting nose to the grindstone with my writing / performing this year. Work has paid off as I am a part of this excellent show on Saturday. You being there and showing your support is important to me.

So please, come one come all and check out this rockin line up of writers THIS SATURDAY

and it's for a super good cause too!
xo
cindy

GIANTESS--Saturday, April 2nd, 8 pm

A huge benefit for Femina Potens. All cash goes to Femina Potens--your
local feminist, queer & trans art space! Readings by Ali Liebegott
(The Beautifully Worthless), Ricky Lee, Cindy Emch, Katia Noyes
(Crashing America), Shana, Tracy Vogel, and beautiful music by Paper
Boats. $5.00-10.00. At Varnish Fine Arts, Natoma @ 2nd

bleeding words tonight

my mind is running creative tonight like it hasn't in so long. maybe it just took a hang over and exhaustion and getting home with no dinner and barely lunch and overwhelm circuits overladed and orange juicer and blender and talk and pets and whoa whoa whoa for me to force a moment and feel so much and be completely unble to talk or articulate to grab Bone Machine - to walk to the computer and being the staccato ritual tappity tap tap POUND that can turn into beauty that turns blood into words that makes the sacred rise up out of the vast whiteness of the blank page and let the brain go to places that the soul needs to explore. my spirit and my horoscope came together today and smacked me in the face. the ancestors are trying to talk to me. i will not ignore anymore and if it means that i need to listen to tom waits instead of charles mingues to bring it - so be it. I need to yell and sing along and type all night and let stories and words that are verboten and sacred and lustful and passionate and angry and in love and the whole maelstrom of rollercoasters and ribbons and scars that live in these bags of flesh to leave my fingers

the keyboard is my piano and i haven't hit a concerto in way too long.
the chair is creaking on the porch, rocking back and forth and i can smell the wood of it, the life in the wet night dirt as air blows across the grass and through the dark trees that threaten murder and hold secret love. you have to scare people into good behavior. if everyone knew that the trees at night keep everyones secrets, the fabric of respectibility would fall apart from desires fulfilled. we exist on the presumption that some people must suffer and do the 'right' or 'moral' thing. and so i love you. because we don't have to be right or moral. because i walk the forest alone - and i see moonflowers bloom and small bugs crawl deliciously through moss - and i keep the secrets too, because we all have them and i am more interested in being a part of this darkness than with walking in the light.