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My eyesight is getting worse. It makes for fuzzier hallucinations like when the metro bus near the Cypress Hills cemetery started to float above the wave of humidity, turned into smoggy dragons, and the advertisement banner on the side was out of focus, something about insurance and smiling heads.
My nose started projectile bleeding when I caught site of the cemetery in Brooklyn. It was very alarming. It came out in bursts running down and dripped two drops on my brand new dress in places that suited it well on rose flowers, so well that you couldn't even notice that it was blood. I imagine the the blood inside of me was literally boiling out of me since I hadn't been in such intense heat since summer of last year. In fear that someone might think I needed help and called an ambulance or worse, for my back pack, the police, I took a couple quick pictures and turned the other way back towards the J line at Alabama Avenue. It was the worst one I have ever had.
 My foresight needs fine tuning. It's too bad I never went to fine art school said a recent demon, with its stomach exposed and fears attached to him, feather like in a headdress emanating feverishly from his brain and probably a deeper part of him no one understands, fragile, easily broken. It's too bad it took so long for said figure to turn his insides out, hold his guts in his stomach, and stare directly into the shit he fed himself.
My moneys running out because I keep buying disposables and giving myself fake assignments for every one of them labeling each one like "of people touching their hair", "of people i don't know frowning at me", "of people I do know frowning at me", "of things that remind me of the flavor of bubble gum". I don't even know how, but I will, and when I can I will get these developed I'll remind my self that before I didn't know how I would.
Like it even matters.
My instincts told me to find a high mountain and I did so before leaving.
My mother was denied the insurance for lasik surgery today. She took me to breakfast in San Mateo. She talked of how she used to see ghosts on her way back from los bailes in San Francisco walking towards her Hillsborough in-law where her and her mother lived to nanny and clean. The women behind me were complaining about how one of their sons didn't make valedictorian at his school. I was dreaming aloud about how I want to go back. We read our horoscopes and mine said something about taking the middle road so I told my mom how it took me two days to find the Buddhist temple I frequented in 2009 in Chinatown in New York and when I got there everyone was cleaning up and the doors were to close in five minutes. I made my donations, clasped my hands, bowed, and lit an incense, and when I was finished I asked if I could please take a picture. One man said smiling, "yes" and the other, sternly and with his voice raised, "no!" I stood silent for the remainder of the two minutes staring at the golden Buddha surrounded by fresh fruit, jewels, and flowers, and then walked out saying nothing now in search of tights to cover my bare legs, and it started to storm, lighting, thunder, and warm rain on my last night in New York.
It was all very beautiful.

4-12-13