glory! : baby names

washer

Goodnight my love Remember me as you fall to sleep Fill your pockets with the dust and the memories That rises from the shoes on my feet I won't be back here Though we may meet again I know it's dark outside Don't be afraid Everytime I ever cried from fear Was just a mistake that I made Wash yourself in your tears And build your church On the strength of your faith Please Listen to me Don't let go Don't let this desperate moonlight leave me With your empty pillow Promise me the sun will rise again I too am tired now Embracing thoughts of tonight's dreamless sleep My head is empty My toes are warm I am safe from harm...

Wednesday, April 17, 2024

baby names

i may have talked about this but in my 19th birthday party this friend of mine started flirting with my boyfriend. i was pissed off and i went outside for a smoke, started feeling sick, he paid no mind. this was especially bad for me for reasons i wont talk about here, on that day specifically and on his which is only days before. when i got home, i threw up. when i went to confession next morning, i almost did at the booth again.

anyway i do like this friend of mine, shes pretty and generally cool. we talked once about baby names. it felt so strange to me, i felt a strange jealousy bubbling over. shes normal and wants kids, she struggles in her own way but shes fine. im sick and anorexic and failing even at that.

since i wont be having a child ill just mention names i like in a vacuum.

gloria

babylon

paul

damian

soledad

zafiro

kennedy

edgar

angustias

victoria

angel

leon

regina

teresa

venus

jupiter

junipero

alejandro

maría

alejandra

delfina

emile

emilio

pamela

joseph

sergio

balbina

henrietta

cosette

katherine

gabriel

nicholas

diamanda

ethel

dolores

i dont know what he sees in me. i am so sick and broken down, i am a hypocrite and a stupid woman. a truly stupid woman with no real drive. what to do now. i feel so sick. i feel so ugly, so pudgy, disdained, insane, sad and abandoned.

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sylvia plath, the bell jar

I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.

Psalm 18: 6-11

In my distress I called upon the Lord, And cried out to my God; He heard my voice from His temple, And my cry came before Him, even to His ears. Then the earth shook and trembled; The foundations of the hills also quaked and were shaken, Because He was angry. Smoke went up from His nostrils, And devouring fire from His mouth; Coals were kindled by it. He bowed the heavens also, and came down With darkness under His feet. And He rode upon a cherub, and flew; He flew upon the wings of the wind. He made darkness His secret place; His canopy around Him was dark waters And thick clouds of the skies.