Posted at at 17:00 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

good bye
i will miss you
i will miss the beauty of your smile, your hands

i never found you, not really
i never loved you, not really
we were sheep that passed in the night
unable to love one another
unable to forget

why did you waste yourself?
why did you lie?
why did i hate you so hard?
why did i lie?

the love is always there
just out of reach
in all the memories

your beauty
my isolation

my longing for an embrace that you never gave
what were you longing for?
did the men you grovelled for, did they make you happy?
now and then?

was it worth it?
did you have a good life?
i hope so.
i hope it was worth the love lost
i hope it was good a lot of the time
the times when i wasn't a part of it
i hope you were happy

i loved you and wanted so much
our relationship was one long continuous failure to connect

goddess bless you now
wherever you are, wherever you go
forever and ever
i do love you

but please don't come back
let this be the end of our story

j.b.b.w r.i.p

Posted at at 19:04 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

x marks the spot

question: when you agreed to be interviewed, you told me that you wanted to call our talk 'how she overcame him." we've been talking for awhile now and i'm not sure what that phrase has to do with what we've been talking about.

diana: every step you take will bring you closer or further away from you who really are. walk away. that's how to overcome him.

question: is it a particular him that you are trying to overcome?

diana: in a way. individuals manifest aspects of elementals or archetypes. it's an ocean of feelings and attributes, forces pulling and pushing your identity to form itself. advertising and politics are tame games compared to the cosmic battle for your own soul.

question: him?

diana: we are in a time when our only god is a him and our men treat us as if we didn't exist as separate ego-identities. women have as much need to manifest their true selves as do men. our egos function the same way, as booster rockets to get us going til we are ready to let them go and float the rest of the way home. i know, i know, how to overcome him.... the way to overcome any him, from god to man and little boy, is to walk your own path, don't use him to define your identity or your purpose.

question: but you actually killed your father. if you could just walk away, why didn't you do that?

diana: it's a family tradition. my father killed his. and i don't have a brother to do it so i had to do it myself. he was expecting it.

Posted at at 10:43 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

you don't own me

impressive functionality

tepid intrepid limp squiggles

pursed lips

emotional break down

cry, scold

she never loved me
and why should she?
is there a law that says your parents have to love you?
even if you aren't very lovable?
all expectation and hunger
longing for her embrace
or his
or anyone's really
anyone's at all

Posted at at 09:57 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


my grandmother loved zinnias. her sister loved peonies. roses have lost their odor. when the roses regain their odor, i will know that we are on the path again towards life. but zinnias are amazing, the patterning, the tempo of a zinnia, is truly refreshing. peonies are lush, falling all over themselves in wanton delight.

Posted at at 07:44 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

young love

question: i had such a powerful dream of twinship embodied in a lover scenario and i kept looking for that. it took me a long time to realize that i was discounting the importance of the otherness of the other person.

diana: this is such a fascinating area of inquiry, the self and the other.

question: the chicken and the egg.

diana: the hunter and the hunted.

question: they arise together. separately but together.

diana: they call each other into existence, with their need of one another and their willingness to engage with one another.

Posted at at 02:11 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


i wish i could say i was sorry but i'm not. i've enjoyed my life. it's more operatic than most people's; that's sure. but i think that's changing. i think we are moving slowly into a larger view of ourselves as we prove over and over again what a wealth of talent and resources we have inside ourselves.

question: it's the think globally, act locally thing but on a psychological level. it's ok to think abstractly but we have to live actually.

Posted at at 17:15 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

wanton cruelties

question: who can believe that love is so rare when it is the ground we stand on, the air we breathe, the foundation of everything we are. so why is it as hard to find as a rare jewel on the sidewalk?

Posted at at 08:33 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

vast indifference

nothing. that's what i want to say when i think about my childhood, how i came to be what i am. but, if i shake that off, i have another skin, underneath how you judge me, a skin of delicacy and power that is all about discipline and walking my path with courage and facing the devil when i saw her in myself or anyone else.

question: but you didn't stand up to the devil when he told you to kill people.

diana: i dn't think you've heard anythign i'm saying. you keep thinking of killing as one thing, as one terrible thing. that means life is terrible because it's causes us to die. that way of thinking is religion not rationality. killing is interworven into life in an intricate way and is best handled with some respect adn delicacy because you, me, we are all part of the web of life and when it's cut, it affects us all. but killing itself is not a bad thing.

question: see? this is where you freak people out. i don't want to write that. and even if i wrote that, no one would let it get in the paper.

diana: that's ok. but i want you to know, to understand. i was taught how to participate in part of the dance that the "general" population refuses to participate in and i'm trying to say that being a butcher is not an ignoble profession.

question: yikes! what about mass murderers? are you lumping yourself with them?

diana: not at all. you have a plot of land. many things are growing on it. ot's a big mess. do you choose to weed it and clear it and plant it or pave it over with a parking lot? which action is more deadly?

question: the parking lot.

diana: but you are going to kill a lot more up close and personally if you decide to weed and plant. and isn't that part of why we have abandoned our land and allowed it to be paved over indiscriminately?

Posted at at 17:27 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

until then

how long does it take to make a connection with someone? sometimes, it takes lifetimes of loving before a connection is made. i wish i'd been able to make a connection with my parents. but they were narcissists, a surprisingly pretty name for a fantastically ugly way of being.

question: we all project our selves and our stories onto other people but narcissists are unusual in that projection is the only way they relate. you get close enough to a narcissist

diana: and it's like entering a dance with the footprints already printed on the floor.

question: suddenly you realize that everything's scripted.

diana: when people stop laughing at themselves.

question: that's pretty much the end.

diana: yeah.

question: so. can a murderer laugh at herself?

diana: sure. i think so. yes. try me.

Posted at at 08:10 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

trouble in paradise

javascript:void(0)question: nothing but trouble in paradise, right?

diana: no. in fact, it's because i found real joy and peace that i was able to turn myself in. i think paradise is right here and our bullshit is stuck on our eyes so thickly, we can barely perceive it so we call it a dream. in fact, the crap in our eyes is the add-on. the basic reality is wildly, extravagantly beautiful.

Posted at at 18:47 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


i'm not sure what safety is. when i feel the best, i'm not worrying about my safety, i know that. that's all i'm sure about, about safety. i think insurance has made us insane, thinking there's a way to walk the world "safely." if we have imagined it all. if we are each walking our dream, nothing, no insurance, nothing, can keep us from meeting what we have created for ourselves. so safety could maybe mean creating in a kind way, kindness so that you have that coming back.

question: killing with kindness?

diana: of course.

Posted at at 00:24 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

radical faith

Posted at at 07:22 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


she asked me to help her, but it was a ruse. it was a way of ending the discussion, throw herself on my mercy, because she knew i had mercy and she didn't have any, not when it came to winning.

the articulation of the conceptual models underlying these conversations, well, it begs belief. even i wonder if i was making it all up. how can we ever know someone else's motivations? how could i know whether or not she wanted me dead most of the time? if i felt rejected and neglected, maybe she wasn't meaning that. maybe, in her mind, she was only thinking of herself, only noticing her own soap opera of emotional longings, her own unfulfilled dreamscape. me, me, mine. oh yeah. that's all it takes to create paranoia in the other person. am i real? do i matter? obviously not. i can't be real if you can't see me, can i? is it legitimate to be real only to oneself?

Posted at at 14:39 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

post partum est

don't be wicked. do be kind. don't be cruel. do be kind. don't be harsh but don't be soft either. find the middle way. let go of the truth and embrace the honey mead of languorous desires.

they waft
with an odor so sweet
you cannot mistake it for sadness
you cannot think you are in hell
but you have to be able to breathe it in
you have to be able to let it touch you willingly
alter your being
the scent of life
the descent of beauty

the only way to know the now is to be in it. the only problem with being in somewhere is that we lose our bearings immediately. you can either know where you are or how you are but not both, some of the brain has to be spent on the immediacy of the experience.

sometimes you have to trust the love and let it lead you to where you need to go.

sometimes you have to turn your back on love and walk away.

somewhere you have to trust that you know what to do.

somewhere you have a way to do this thing called life.

so that was my dream, that's what she said.

question: are you sure she was an angel?

diana: no. i'm not sure of much anymore. i've been in this place for awhile. they don't want me near the general population. i might incite them.

question: the woman huntress returns.

diana: something like that. never mind that the hunter has an obligation to be as compassionate and elegant as the soldier or the scientist. sometimes i think they don't want women to do that because they don't want to admit that we have souls just as flexible as men's.

question: it's always easier to minimize the other's complexities.

diana: i'm too old for easy.

question: i know what you mean. easy loses its charm after awhile.

Posted at at 16:02 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

ordeal or deals

Posted at at 07:00 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

no more trauma drama baby i'm over you

Posted at at 10:46 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

my mother

i don't think i had the worst mother in the world but certainly she was among the categories of worseness. our lady of perpetual selfishness. our lady of persistent greed. our lady of a masochism that longed to blossom into sadism but never dared. but i can't say she was altogether useless. because apparently, according to the latest spiritual cognoscenti, i created her to act iin my life in such a way as would take me or challenge me to take the path that best suits my spiritual unfoldment. whew. that's a mouthful. she was a woman who smelled bad and so because known for her outrageously expensive perfumes. you were lucky to never have to smell what she really smelled like.

she liked to involve me in her sexual foreplays. it was casual and cruel, her perfidies but the way they felt to me as a young person was like that scene in bertolucci's 1900 where the black shirt mussolini groupie lovers take the young boy by the feet and swing him around in circles bashing his head in as they go and laughing. the first time i saw that scene, i thought bertolucci had read my life somehow.

Posted at at 12:09 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

little do we know

question: i can't decide if i admire you or not.

diana: i know what you mean. i feel that way about myself.

question: the acceptable roles for women to play is so narrow and we're not used to hearing women speak philosophically about the world as we're living in it. and the academics are still slogging through some medieval feuds and alliances. i don't know how to think about my life when i factor my femininity into it.

diana: yeah. it's all well and good to want to be the equal of men but, in their terms? really? i can say honestly that i can keep up or better most men in the endeavors in which i excel. so, as a competitor, i do not acknowledge that being a woman is a handicap in any way. but i feel we are living half blind. i sense another set of experiences that could be available to us. but i can't articulate what that would be and i keep getting sucked into proving myself, again and again in a man's world to be as good as a a man.

question: but it's not a man's world. not at all. it's a world full of creatures, none of whom is the boss of anything really. all of us powerless in the face of the energies that surround us and yet creatively potent. there is a river of possibility that runs through everyone that is the essence of the female within.

diana: i like that.

Posted at at 07:18 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


i wish i could tell a story from beginning to end that encompasses all the factors that led to me, to what i did. but it's such a fine and complex weave of smells and silences. choirs resounding joy and fear echoing in corridors of powerlessness.

i want to conquer words the way i would a wild stallion or the way those invented creatures from avatar tame the wild flying creatures to be their partners and yet, of course, their minions, do their will. aargh. this is where i get stuck. i can feel my way to a grace that does not include turning other creatures into servants but when i attempt to dialogue even with myself, even in the privacy of my own mind, i am repeatedly coming up against the limits of a language meant for commerce and battle.

they say that dante's italian is the one spoken in italy now but it was from his native dialect basically and finessed a bit. when our languages no longer root in organized violence (extended to include theft and betrayal) then maybe we can get them to describe these places of extreme joy, these many ecstasies that ebb and flow and crash into us as we go from job to home to wherever we twitter.

Posted at at 21:04 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

just us justice

the ass- assi- nations of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries were so different than the post-modern assassinations.

i think the distinguishing feature is the attitude but some people think the main difference is the purpose. the modern assassin, the assassin of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, was a loner acting out rebelliously against the perceived elitist. the post-modern assassin is a groupie, an ideological bandwagon standing, self-sacrificing fool. needless to say, i consider myself a modern assassin. i act alone. i don't need or want to be caught. there is nothing self-sacrificing in my business, it's strictly self-aggrandizing. it's all about the money.

question: i think it's hard to follow what you are saying because you're wrong. i think the assassins are always the same, people who realize that they can make a difference through an act violence.

Posted at at 09:35 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

i eye aye

words bring me so much pleasure and yet they are a constant barbed wire climb of ripping and tearing the symbol away from the truth of the moment.

Posted at at 07:23 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


what a fuck up. working for the dark side is just a self aggrandizing version of suicidal. nothing glamorous except you want to take a whole lot of people with you.

Posted at at 17:40 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


i know that everything worthwhile in life comes from some sort of loving.

Posted at at 09:57 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


i want to blame her husbands and i'm glad that they're dead. i have not an iota of regret but i know it was her own authority that wrote her story to be one of self-annihilation. she filled her thoughts with hate and cruel critique and ate her soul into a frayed remnant. i think the men are often merely pawns in the hands and stories of women bent on their version of the end of the world.

Posted at at 11:12 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

ebb and flow

my mother was always searching for a truth that she could look up. when in doubt, what do i do? because she had lost touch with her inner dialogues and had no connections to spontaneous emotions. she had controlled herself in order to gain position and power and the price was the loss of her connection to her organic self. she rotted from the inside out. and as she did, she became a heavier user of perfume. but nothing could hide the scent of her deterioration. nothing.

Posted at at 07:48 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


what i remember is the longing, the wanting, the waiting. as if life were always somewhere else while i was in a hell of isolation and perverse cruelties. all i imagined was escape and escape was erotic and then revenge. i have a weakness for revenge. i love to wallow in the imagined miseries of my enemies. watch them hung alive on barbed wire while carrion birds feed off their live flesh. i can be very imaginative. so learning the discipline of killing was like a relief. no it was a relief, not like anything but itself. like being able to breathe out of your nose after a long sinus infection; an entirely new experience of life. a far more connected and sensual connection to life.

Posted at at 15:55 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

catch a rising star

question: it's terrible to think you're purposeless.

diana: so true.

question: but aren't we all powerless?

diana: it's probably in how you want to define power, right? there's a way in which everyone is equally powerful and equally powerless too but there's lots of other ways to have limited aspects of power and that's really where all the competition takes place, in the shuffling around of bits of power.

question: maybe we have to do that. i mean, if we weren't all busy trying to outdo each other, what would we do with ourselves?

Posted at at 19:28 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


the way i see it is, i was a prisoner of war. not restricted in my move- ments but con- stantly under mental seige and always within a worldview that is usually described as kill or be killed.

so, of course, i was attracted to soldiers. at first, so that they would fight for me, take me out of the hothouse of death i was born into. but then, because they were the only people who understood what it is like to carry around death, like a bridal train.

Posted at at 07:40 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

a lot

it happened like this. my father was an orphan, and he got hooked up with some really negative people and from that he got twisted around so that his whole value had to do with success in other people's eyes. and, in this society, murderers are highly regarded as long as they don't get caught. so many of our millionaires, well, that's another story. and all aristocracies. no, not now. i am telling one man's story here, not a whole civilization. so he found my mother, like attracts like; she had come to the conclusion early in her life that the Best things in life are at the top of the ladder and all you have to do is keep climbing and eventually you will get there. it doesn't matter where it is, as long as everyone else wants to be there too.

so they met and fell in greed with one another. each one thinking that the other one would buy their way to the top of the ladder and everyone would look in awe, genuflect.

unfortunately, it didn't work like that. put two killers in a bag, no one is coming out alive. i mean, they did remain physically alive but they eradicated what was left of each other's souls. ever after, neither one was capable of loving in the moment or even considering that there might be a life outside of butchery.

eventually they had me and immediately began the training. now, they had given up on each other but i could be the one who would take them to the top of that ladder. and so we advanced all together, if killers can be said to be together with anyone, we advanced. we got very good and very well paid but the price was higher than we could pay and eventually, one dark night it was mother against father. you know the drill, they even made a movie out of a relationship like this, with angelina jolie and brad pitt and this turned them on enough to cause them to be married but in my family's case, they didn't get closer, my father killed my mother's spirit, ran her off into oblivion.

she found my stepfather, who wasn't as good a killer as my father but he was average and was able to keep the charade of ladder climbing going without really ever being a threat to my mother. that's what she thought anyway, that's what she thought until she died, poisoned by her second husband. it was money to him, not social standing. he got all her money and then i killed him.

at first my father was proud of me, but then he got paranoid and when he jumped me in the night in marseilles, i was ready and i got him first. i don't know hoe they figured it out but they did and here i sit in jail now, waiting for my trial.

Posted at at 12:29 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


boys are so beautiful. not like men. men feel the same way about girls and women. so only girls are presented in pornographic iconography. and only young men, boys really, in the same. we do not wish to explore the complexities of adulthood. we deny them all. we don't admit to the thievery, to the lies, to the hellish, petty jealousies that corrode our confidence and our relationships. we don't want to talk about any of that, we don't seem so heroic if we talk about that, the seamy side of adulthood. so we don't talk about any of it. the only solution to life is to sacrifice life because life is too tawdry and complicated? that is the notion of a cowardly spirit, that is not an acceptable basis for a philosophy of life and i put it to you, that the more materialistic a society becomes, the more cowardly they become.

Posted at at 11:12 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


i can't love someone who has no courage. when she gave up her sovereignity, she gave up any reason to have courage. what had been courage eroded and then morphed to vengeance.
the final test in a murderous family is the parent-child battle to the death. if the child manages to win, they will be alive with the death of a parent on their conscience. if the child cannot win against the parent, they either die or are kept as a slave to the parental wishes.

Posted at at 03:03 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


my mother told me that only unsexy women had to wear sexy clothes; that sexy women were not about to create even more of a stir by flaunting themselves. but i think she was horribly jealous of women who had the confidence to wear a stunning dress.

question: i think there is a reality that is sustaining us but that we have no access to consciously. the way there's the two nervous systems, you know? if you had to consciously control your heart or your breathing, you'd fuck it up, so it stays out of your control.

diana: yes. and that's why sages of all times work on creating trust within themselves so that they CAN consiously control events as critical as the heartbeat. i always assumed that my shadow, in jungian terms, had to do with my killer instincts and aesthetics, i mean, it's hard not to believe that i work for the devil, you know what i mean? but my shadow, psychologically speaking, is more prosaic. i am a depressive. a secret sorriness, a stagnant pool. murder is a step up, psychologically that is.

question: i am part dog.

diana: that's interesting. and somewhat unexpected.

question: when i was a baby, my parents left me in the playpen with our dog who had just had puppies. i was in there with the mother dog and her puppies. i think that has affected me deeply.

diana: you are full of non-sequiturs today.

question: everything is a non-sequitur.

diana: did you eat enough? you sound morose.

Posted at at 10:12 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


question: i don't disagree with you. i understand what you mean. we satanize and we sanitize in order to make the concepts simple enough so we can make yes or no choices. but now, computers give me hope. computers can only think in yes or no.

diana: not artifical intelligence.

question: wait, let me finish. right now, computers think in yes or no. that means people can let go of that type of computation use of their minds and begin to explore other, more creative, imaginative paths.

diana: not likely.

question: you know, the killer in you isn't as annoying as the cynic.

diana: sorry. but you're wrong. computers can learn and take information laterally and produce new results that go beyond it's previous limits.

question: and yet it's still a decision-based nodal model. we can do far more with our minds than that, indescribably more. because it encompasses thought beyond language.

diana: that is an interesting idea.

question: thank you for not being cynical about it.

diana: i agree with you about cynicism being worse than murder. i hear you.

Posted at at 09:46 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


my friends are everything to me. every day i am amazed that i am still alive and only only because they were there. i can't say that my family were supportive in any way. it was as if, in my family, the competitive nature was so powerful that there was no room for the expression of love within interpersonal interactions.

we were a family of killers; it was a kill or be killed incubator.

but i think you make a mistake if you think all killing is alike. as if killing were an area in which there was no science or art, no discipline.

these are ancient categories. killing is a necessary part of life. killing arises at the same time as life arises, it is one unit. so some killing is beneficial to life, otherwise life would not produce.

and some killing is more aesthetically pleasing and more honorable. some killings are more technologically advanced, engineered exquisitely. it's just another area of life. we should not be scared to analyze how it functions in human systems.

Posted at at 00:04 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


question: why does every generation feel that they are the ones who invented sex?

diana: i don't think those greek boys felt that way.

question: what do you mean?

diana: that period of greece where it was in love with boys; when the boys came to consciousness of their sexuality, the men were ready for them, waiting.

question: i'm sorry, i'm laughing. i can't help it. those boys thought they invented the situation. i'm sure they did. they took credit for the situation. they thought it arose out of their extraordinary beauty. and how do we know that they didn't? maybe the prey determines more of the ritual than the predator. that's what they meant when they used to say, the man chases the woman til she catches him.

Posted at at 07:37 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


it's spectacularly impossible to imagine, what if all the dreams in my mind come true? what if there was no delay? every thought, immediate upon being thought, materialized in front of me, immediately. oh yea, television.

question: there's something oddly disempowering about being given everything you want. it's thrilling to dare for something and it makes you stronger too. so that's love, right? love is the force, that, when used, makes the user stronger and, everyone in the immediate vicinity.

diana: can you believe that i killed out of love?

question: i believe that you think you did. but i think that's because you can't acknowledge your shadow. you want to make your dark sides just as light as your light sides.

diana: there's no top to the earth.

question: i'm familiar with the "there's no up" rap. but that's not the same thing.

diana: in a way it is. if things didn't die, then we'd be overwhelmed very quickly. the only way to keep creating is to allow things to dissipate, dissolve, die.

Posted at at 09:13 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


hello world, was what i couldn't say. i had no way from the inside of me to the outside. the length of that distance kept me immobile. at least that's how i felt. i felt like i couldn't communicate and i couldn't move. everyone told me i was moving around maybe too much and i communicate as well as anyone basically. but not from inside. the view from inside was different. i could feel my love for this or that, my willingness to take part... or the opposite, my resistance, or distance i wanted to be from someone or some event and in neither case could i achieve my desires. my desires kept living alongside my reality for what seemed like forever and then people seemed to want me to give up my shadow self and then i finally, slow-wittedly, weakly, began to wander away from the death that was overtaking me.

Posted at at 14:03 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


garbage. that's what you find, when you get to know someone, the darkness that lurks inside, that garbage. that's what made me a killer.

question: but didn't you find beauty in there too?

diana: no. people have different fillings. some people are filled with goodness and other people are rotten inside.

question: that seems ridiculously simplistic compared to how you think about other things.

diana: not really. a kill is a simple thing, if you're doing it right. that's how you know if you're doing something right, it's simple.

question: i get that about expertise, how time slows down and simplicity rules but that is a result of a lot of trial and error lived experience. this idea that simple is better is often used for the exact opposite, so that inexperienced idiots can insist on simpleminded simplicity in order to avoid the great mysteries inherent in a lived life.

Posted at at 12:31 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


question: is it an example of the worsening of times that women are becoming more violent?

diana: how do you know that women are becoming more violent? and, also, is the more violent in the same curve ratio as men are becoming more violent? what i'm getting at is, since there are wars between men and women, wars between men and men, wars between women and women... i think you have to get your statistics straight as to where the increases in violence are, whether they are across the board or if one war is calming while another is accelerating, and then you can capture what you might call, the weather of war, make predictions. see if there's a maximum war amount that we can sustain or is it potentially infinite?

question: i don't think violence can be infinite since we have the means for complete annihilation, that seems pretty finite to me?

diana: i see what you mean. and i think this is one of the cornerstones of the philosophy of goodness or good news or second testament, that we know love is greater than evil because it is infinite and evil is not. they cut the part about life, the holy second testament used to say also that we had more lives so death is not an end because life is eternal but that was becoming too rabble rousing a concept, too kamikaze as a motivator. well, the muslims are having the same problem now, i imagine. their society is being represented abroad by folks who believe in life after so that they are willing to go to any lengths in this life to prove themselves soulwise.

question: the holiest people are know are the most difficult to get along with.

diana: i know what you mean.

question: it's as if a person's ability to be compassionate and truly interested in another person is inversely proportional to their allegiance to a godgiven set of rules and regulations.

diana: personally, i think god is way above rules and regulations. it's too clean for god. it's not his m.o.

question: modus operandi. well, he's had a few. he's pretty schizo if you ask me.

diana: we traded in multiple gods for one god with multiple personalities.

Posted at at 07:43 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


that's the kind that interests me
heinlein or was in vonnegut who called it grokking? i read so much the books all merged together into one big book in my head where all the characters meet and interact. i used to dream in many cities at once. i'd be walking up or down the hill by the portrait gallery, coming from or going to the national gallery and i'd turn a corner and i'd be on a small street in paris, the old city, where i always get lost and find myself in a beautiful dream, that's when i'm awake when i'm there but in my dreams then along the way the street melts into a new york city street and on like that, rome was there. i walked these streets in my dreams while my parents yelled at me and my boyfriends berated me to come back to earth, to stop dreaming. stop. dreaming.
but why should i?
what better can you offer me?
all you do is yell, complain, bicker and whine.
sometimes, if i catch you in the right mood, we can laugh and make love and sing and eat good food and laugh some more. but sometimes i don't want to have to wait and watch for the right mood, like i'm catching a fish just to appreciate what's right in front of us. it mixes my metaphors. i'm in a place of beneficence and in order to get your attention i have to create an atmosphere of threat, danger, which might, if i'm lucky, turn you into an accomplice, and from there maybe we can get ourselves to what's right here. but often that threat does not morph in the way i want it to, it morphs towards greater violence. then what? no one can give themselves away and enter in. surrender demands an immediate forfeit. no one's going anywhere if someone has to surrender. then we'll all just stick around while we manage the prison population.

Posted at at 16:50 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


Posted at at 06:42 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


there is a war between men and women.

question: between men and men.

diana: yes. and between women and women?

question: a cold war, a nuclear capable cold war.

diana: between parents and children.

question: war.

diana: so the war between men and women is just par for the course, not singled out from other forms of relationship which are more peaceful.

question: that's how it seems to me.

diana: do you feel like you are warring?

question: sometimes, yeah; and that's usually when i chicken out, when i want out. i can't manage the war part. you have to have a gift for it, or grow up in a family where you learn the language.

diana: the language of oppression.

question: one of them anyway.

diana: in my field, you go through warring into and past and turn around and everything still is in the shadow of the warring. now, i was supposed to be moving on to a new level but i've gotten stuck here and i'm wondering if i'll die here, an eye for an eye, here.

Posted at at 07:31 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

no matter what i do, i never know what's going on. do you? of course you don't. if you think you do, maybe you didn't get far enough into the mystery to be of interest to me.

my mother became vacuous, imploding and ending up as a complete nothing. my stepfather sucked all the life out of her. no, that's not fair to her, it was her that chose to leak her life out of her buttocks and collapse in on herself. the thing is, how many free women have you ever met? me? i'm in prison.

i like to think of opening sentences to great novels. but i don't have the patience to write a great novel. except my life, my life is my novel. here's one: it was always midnight. that novel is about someone in a dark place, right? you know right away. maybe you know the whole novel in the sentence, maybe that's why i don't have to write it. then how about, i live where the river bends. that one is about change, right? turning a corner, after facing an immovable object. or, the struggles of the living, that's what makes us heroes. that story would be about some sort of creative endeavor, creating a farm, a business, a family.

sometimes i like to think in titles: entitlement or freedom? i like that one. and women are another country, that's another good one.

Posted at at 00:17 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

oh, some

sometimes i hate words. i can't breathe for words clogging up the arteries of feelings and sensations surrounding the act of breathing in and out.

sometimes i hate words because they behave like a prison to my mind. the two-thirds of my mind that i like to use is impatient with the notoriously dominant one-third. and words only come in one third well, as words. they appear in the two-thirds as images of various sorts, nothing escapes the two-thirds, after all. it's a sort of god if you will, at least in terms of omniscience of self, it sees all and feels all and remembers all. the puny one-third is kept around for basic skills that soon any robot will be able to replicate.

oh, sometimes i hate words.

Posted at at 11:20 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


in loco parentis. or just plain loco parents.
i had two fathers. one biological. one step. the biological one is the one everyone thinks of as a murderer. he's the one who's famous for his kills. my step though, he's the one who destroyed the lives of everyone he came into contact with.

Posted at at 08:42 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


question: i'm a querical person. Growing up, i was always asking questions. cunundrum is my favorite word.

diana: ah, you are in touch with the eternal quest.

question: the eternal question?

diana: quest, question, it's the same thing. well, almost. it's the opposite of lethargy, of just letting things happen to you. it's a way to be in the world actively without necessarily competing or killing as a modus operandi. the modus is the questing.

question: questing instead of killing?

diana: yes.

Posted at at 09:33 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

rave on

often i want to scream. i'm not sure what would happen if i did. in my imagination, my scream cleans the world of all lies and twisted pain. my scream cleans the world of cruelty.

Posted at at 15:37 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


words aren't good for everything. words are very limited. some days, weeks, years, relationships, are wordless, really. words are a dance of meaning that may or may not have anything to do with what we are thinking or feeling or living. but we talk and we write. we fill the air and the ether with our words. as if all our words were as holy as the first word from which all things were made.

i long for satisfaction. doesn't everyone? but it is elusive; it's nature is elusiveness, that is why she motivates us, because we can never have her. she is infinity. satisfaction and infinity are one and the same; we can approach closer and even closer but there is no place called infinity, no state of satisfaction. these are the dream desires that pulse in each breath, all our lives long for absolutely no purpose other than that they keep the pulse.

question: for a long time i wanted to be invisible. i wanted to not just be ignored and disdained but, go all the way, and not be there at all. i read harlan ellison and identified as a person non grata. someone who offends the world merely by their existing. but i never did anything wrong. and you - you've done so many many things wrong and you don't want to be invisible; you don't even feel bad as far as i can see. even though you're in jail and you know you're a murderer. and i feel the weight of guilt and shame and terror at myself and i barely kill insects.

diana: you ask weird questions that aren't really questions. do you do that for all your interview because, if you do, i don't understand how you manage.

question: i never did an interview before.

diana: oh. why did you get sent to me then? i guess by the long pause here, that no one else wanted to meet me.

question: well, some of the guys wanted to do some stuff to you, if you know what i mean and some of the women were going to do some interesting things as well but -

diana: but your innocuousness made you the perfect representative to manage the interview. do you think they'll publish any of it?

question: i don't think it matters.

diana: what do you mean?

question: i think we're having a conversation that matters so it doesn't matter who else thinks so.

diana: the butterfly wing?

diana: yup.

Posted at at 09:12 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

tremble tremulous heart

Posted at at 11:58 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:

udders swollen and sore

diana: do you know all the sins?

question: not really.

diana: i looked them up: Lust; Gluttony; Greed; Sloth; Wrath; Envy; Pride. Vainglory, Extravagance, Acedia and Despair were dumped but originally they were on the major sin list.

question: i don't know what vainglory is or acedia.

diana: acedia is a lot like sloth but it's more like lack of motivation, my favorite synonym for it is turpitude. vainglory is wanting to be famous and important in human's eyes.

question: whose else's eyes can we be important to? the gods don't give a shit. neither does nature.

diana: there isn't any point in religion unless you are in the mood to condemn life. if you're happy, you don't need definitions, solace is for the sad.

Posted at at 18:57 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under:


i maybe will take a plunge at becoming vociferous. i'm always behind the beat. waiting for, i don't know what. listening. i like to listen and then i am not sure when it's my turn to speak. i have lots to say. often it seems to me that, if i had less to say, i might be able to speak more often.

Posted at at 19:42 on by Posted by temi rose |   | Filed under: