cold winter winds and viktor and rolf
words are very unnecessary they can only do harm.
indeed.

do they owe a nod to jil sander on this one?

think a lot about
tech as jewelry
how becked in tech as ornament?
 a shuffle?
a blackberry pearl?

feng shui of metals and woods
avoiding metals.
for years.
finally craving them.
due to need for more metal energy, more life force, conductivity, sense of worth.  tie to the earth.

people love shiny things.

really avoiding "people" now, if you can call them that.

connecting with ghost voices of the past, all my old best friends.

my mother.

feeling a little sad about how she thinks about gay.
she says stuff i don't agree with.
she is not a raging hater or homophobe, but more along the lines of the religious its a sin---unnatural--unnormal--immature etc kind of talk.

evidently i mentioned kissing a girl on a videoblog broadcast and she needed to talk it down and reconfigure it as a kiss on the cheek, so as to be sure i am not gay.

see. its not really "making out."

kind of put your head in an oven kind of vibe, whether its hate or social stigma.
or just your mother from the 1940s.

i love her, and its mutual, she loves me too.

i miss my old style.
the short-hair tomboy.
i dressed exactly like my dad.
my mom hated it.
mens slacks.
mens shirts.
short hair.
i miss getting flirted with from women.
its like i am totally undercover now with my long hair and the occasional skirt.

no body flirts anymore bc i would obviously destroy them with my death in the seventh seal seriousness and fear-inducing aura.


i told mom the bi-ness is probably why it never works out with a guy for me.  i kind of like them, but not that much.

i think i might have been a 60/40 girl-preferring bi-girl, were it not for the massive cultural brainwash and lack of options.

and all the hate.

its really hard to say.

its nice to be out of the closet, sort of.

except i am literally in my closet, hiding from the world, imagining situations.  like the silly smiths song, "i would go out tonight, but i haven't got a stitch to wear."

whether if drinking a ton of coffee would give me pencil thin legs.

watched the prada channel---prada flicks
http://www.prada.com/

wishing their handbags weren't leather bc they are so cute otherwise.
leather is such bad vibes for the earth and the animals, and smells bad.


the neato prada goes to china video had the saddest string arrangement soundtrack, belying the austerity and monochrome of prada material universe.

fishnet umbrellas and fedoras.

i wonder, does it appeal as a reflection of the part of me that has become cold and spartan and hungry?

sorry to all my GLBT friends and compatriots for working through my angst here.
i told my mom i wrote a book about transgendering identity and the many forms of spirits loving each other, in platonic ways, multi-gendered ways.
i could not stand the title, but could not name it elsewise either.
it was about this, many loves and the heart as a genderless thing, especially in the inbetweens (what i consider myself, neither man nor woman).
http://www.myebook.com/index.php?option=ebook&id=19575
of course its from orlando and beyond. its just a word sculpture.
the sadness from which it came, had many loves.
polyamories.

i used to think about dressing certain ways for certain people.
but mostly as a neutral, all black, as a cardinal, or as andy warhol or audrey hepburn, fairly sexless, in a turtleneck.

i told my mom, i'm really better off as asexual.
its a convenient escape route to avoid the bi-problem.
the sin issue.
the childlessness.
i've been on a wild shopping spree, trying to buy happiness, in increments of two and four.
trench coats and large black men's t-shirts.
breast compressing bras, to negate my ample curves.
shoes to run in, if i ever leave the closet for the forest.

got my LSAT fees waived.
in this funny book about law, some woman was like, does this law degree make me look fat?
how funny.
i used to joke that, as a smart old rich lady, i could have all the young boys i want, and wear prada.

and how leo women seek out arm candy.
we don't necessarily try to be it.

bulimia already destroyed my teeth.
talk about agoraphobic fashion.
new teeth installed tomorrow.

what would you wear on the way to a genocide?
i would like
the mafia funeral look prada did a couple years ago.
look austere.
serious.
black lace.
very catholic, with the midcalf skirts.
ready to die, and look good in a casket.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YBAfZHc-EsM

and here is some more recent prada


and check out the real prada mafia attacking the anti-fur dude
with his "fur scum" message.
i love how all the models maintain their cool and keep walking.