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post #211
bio: katie
bio: victoria

perma-link
8/1/2005
10:24

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les oubliettes
Monday, August 1, 2005

› by victoria

running across the gravel-studded paving stones of the soira's pensione in Rimini, I was winning in the race and my yellow-printed floral dress was whipping around my knees and my elbows as they pumped and I was winning, i looked behind me and I tripped and landed with my wrists and my knees getting skinned and cut-up and plain full of irregular gouge-marks of gravel as i crashed at what felt like 50 young-running-miles-an-hour
i got up but i had lost, and my mother poured bactine disenfectant and iodine on my open raw knees and i cried as the bubbles fizzed up on the open wound, and because there were no bandaids big enough to cover my knee (or they didn't carry any at the pharmacia) it was left open to the sun and wind and sand and every day the bactine was poured on and it hurt like it was raw until it scabbed over and healed.

that's what it's like every single day, except that the bactine is the seemingly wilfull ignoring us that Biff's mom has been doing lately. the last time she called--on saturday night--i was at O'Hare airport so calling her back was rather impossible...and I keep on trying and trying and Biff even sent her a 'care package' with a letter and 2 specially selected books and a mix CD as a present for his younger sister but we haven't heard a word

i don't blame Biff for being depressed, hell, i'm depressed. there's not enough valium in the world to get over the feeling that you're being deliberately forgotten, ignored, comme les oubliettes.

i shouldn't smoke so much.
i want to rescusitate everything, but it's all desiccated and waiting for rain
Milwaukee, I want to love you but I noticed that as a city, all you do is kick people in the teeth. It's too hot, or too cold: the people who live in my apartment building (except for the guy on the first floor, and us, but only sometimes) are all miserable:

yesterday there was this older woman on the bus who was untagling her big knotted knitting yarn and winding it up into a ball and when she finished winding it all up in an orderly fashion she started to cry for no reason.





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