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be my valentine? (please circle yes or no)

I am the cause of the matter of my life;
I am not the effect.
I am the love I put out there;
I am not what I get back.
I am the effort, regardless of the consequence of that effort;
I am not the success, I am not the falier.
I am pure effort, nothing else;
That is all I am.

Last night we played a movement game with a class of 3 and 4 yr olds where we would use our bodies to spell out the word "love". "L", "O" and "V" are obvious, but "E" is a contorted one-leg balance shape: we would hold it as long as we could, then swoon and then fall to the ground (ie, we would "fall in love"). This was totally cool for the preschoolers--maybe just from the joy of crashing to the ground with 25 friends---but when Greg tried to do the same thing with a class of 5 to 8 yr olds, it was not okay. ewww. He had to change the sequence to be "L-O-V-E: Yuck!" and the girls would then walk away from the circle with their noses up switching their hips. Though the two classes felt differently about the whole thing--love is dangerous...love is yucky--in both cases, it was fun; and they wanted to do it again and again. It seems like our feelings about this change once love stops being a game (...or once it starts being too much of one).
Today, Greggy and I are making it our goal to collect as many valentines as we can. We are asking everyone we meet to be our valentine. We are attempting to reverse the normal polar trend of the holiday between thoes who are euphoric and thoes who are bitter--towards a sort of abundance--towards something that doesn't depend on anything--towards something that can't be ruined. Maybe that would be a good perspective in general: stepping back what you see as the core of something until you get to something that cannot be shaken. It is interesting to consider love without its opposites; without its rules. A sort of love that needs nothing and transcends everything. I realize as this day goes on that I am working to make everyone my valentine--even people I do not ask, even all the people in my heart who I know would most certianly say no.
The poem at the beginning of this--I wrote a couple of years ago. I was walking with some friends on thanksgiving, and we were talking about "marrying ourselves" and the sort of commitments we would make. Considering marriage--even to myself--and love with a pretty bad reaction; I was realizing how I had spent my life with an idea of love that intended something in return--or at least which responded to what it got in return. I was realizing how I had loved people and things and when I had not seen them love me back, my love had twisted into hate for myself--because I felt I had not been what I needed to be to get back what I was giving. I was realizing that I was identifying with the wrong side of the equation.
This poem and this story keep calling me back, asking me if I really mean it. The friend I was talking to in the story has talked to me badly since then (and I, her, as well), and now she won't speak to me at all. What is a love that gets hate in return? What is a love that ends in pain for yourself or others? It's hard to remember, but its all the same: just keep steping back the definition--the core--until you get to something that cannot be shaken. And that's what we need to be looking at. Today, she is my valentine, too (...like it or not). And, anyways, always, its not the bad undoing the good. Everything stays.
So. Today I collected about 15 valentines--whom I asked. And a lot more whom I didn't. To all my valentines willing and unwilling, thoes who know they are and thoes who don't: I send you my love...and I keep trying to remember that that is enough.


I regarded v-day as just another day, a day in the work week of a drone. Occasionally I would be reminded of the holiday by students who came to dance, and give out chocolates. I had intended on leaving early since I had to take some work home, but I found myself still working past 7:00. Three of my co-workers were still there, cleaning up and preparing the trash to go out. One of them mentioned that there was beer in the fridge, and they yelled over the cubicle partitions for me, to see if I wanted one. I think rolling rock is really gross, but I took them up on the offer. and I thought, wow, it's the over 35 crowd having a beer together on valentines day, only we didn't even bother to leave work and head for a pub. that's how we do it in nyc. quick! quick! enjoy yourselves, and then leave!

"It is better to love yourself ONCE, all of the time. There are no other requirements."

Love is mystical.

I love Love. I am in love with Love & I am a loving person. And that’s an excellent thing because I am knowing that the situation is quite a mutual currency. A peculiar thing this Love is. As Law it honors all of our intentions and aids us in discerning the ONE LIFE. When true Love is present, the attitude of “yours and mine” dissolves and as Law it seeps into every aspect seen and unseen working for us to have all of our dreams and aspirations come true. What more can one have without even asking for it?

Love is the jackpot in the great slot machine of the universe.


But with this slot machine everyone and everything wins every time with every pull.

Happy Valentines!

yeah, i have no more effort to give... my soul got eaten

also... namaste, bitch is my saying

also... what if you simultaneously love and hate everything... is that just because i'm a gemini?

A conservative is a liberal who just got mugged one day. And that same conservative will have no problem paying for pussy still. Humans are conflicted. We contemplate. We are consistent with inconsistency. It's the way the humans are, fucked up and real. We want to fuck and be fucked, while at the same time appear to be pure. The Universe is consistent and ALWAYS says yes. I'm thankful something's consistent and not conflicted.

Tuesday I go to AA meetings. Weds I have off. So it turns out that Tuesdays, after the meetings, is the most sensible days to drink.
How does this happen?

See how it is?

turns out i keep running into all of these people who go to meetings... crazy... there's an all women's meeting thursday nights, we shoudl go sometime...
and also, sometimes the way forward is the way back... that wisdom is dropped from the labyrinth... the old man with the bird on his head... i feel like that bird sometimes... i just have to stop hating the old man who's head i grew on, becuase without the old man's head, i wouldn't be and even if the old man's head is a restraint, it is still there to teach me patience... yes, i see, i also have another dual personality that i'm a bitch and suzy-q...

What do you make of this?


i love it!!! that is the most awesomest image ever... that's how my lungs are, too... brilliance, LG...

It's that duality thing...all pretty and healthy on the outside but real black and nasty on the inside. Hate disguised as a smile.

I hate.
That's why.
You die.

Blood bath...
Feel my wrath...
Blood Bath.



I hate.
That's right.
You Die.
That's why.

Now I feel complete.

You guys didn't even catch that REALLY it should read: Joe Boyle is the cause of the matter of our lives.

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