My right arm just below my shoulder is pulsating off and on as though it is a separate being. For some reason, the occasional twitches and pulsations of my body are fascinating to me. I think it’s my nerves. Every few seconds comes the twitch, which lasts for a few more seconds. The pulsing is so fast, I can’t count how many times it pulsates. What a thrill.

Sometimes it’s my right eye, rapid like a bird beating her wings. Then I must capture it in the mirror or with my camera, my own private freak show. Fortunately, this twitching happens infrequent enough to be amusing to me and even calming. Look I’m still alive! There’s my brain misfiring again.

Starting in high school, I noticed in my left palm a vein that I could watch pulsate if I rested my hand just so on my desk. This must’ve seemed like a swell parlor trick to me because covertly watching my vein pulse also calmed me.

I twitch my nose also, but this is voluntary. But I’m so used to doing it that it’s more I have to consciously stop myself from doing it. It’s like twiddling your thumbs, except it’s my freaking nose. I also move my mouth too. here I come!


I thought my family found me,

the other day.

Nothing too dramatic,

just another friend request.

I have a thousand friends,

none who know me.

But this request.

This request had my bizarre surname:

“Son of the Butler” in old English.

“Son of a Bitch” it might as well mean.

Why after nine years,

a computer literate one looked me up?

Second cousin had an adult son die,

but they still have that other one.

No need for their dead cousin’s kid.

I used to think their anger at my dead mom

could only last so long.

I thought one Sunday

sitting in a righteous pew,

their pure minds would hit on me.

The request was a fake profile.

I deleted it almost in relief.

No need to suppress my politics,

or pretend to be normal.

Appalachian cousins don’t forget.

But maybe someday.

Abandoned Cinema 666

They’re going to raze the old movie theater, vacant since 2005.

I remember a time when I was too small to see above where the tickets were passed.

This theater was just one of several theaters no longer in existence, that made up my childhood.

I think this may have been where I saw my first movie.

It was The Smurfs, circa 1984. (Oddly, the last movie my Mom and I saw together was The Smurfs (2011) because we wanted to see a film in 3D).

I’d love to see into the actual theater, see if the screens are still up and if the seats are moldy.

You can’t see, but there is some caving away of the ceiling. There was a bad hurricane last year.

Whose rocking chairs?

People must come in here occasionally. Who would leave their ladder to be demolished?

Favorite picture. Look how vintage!

Backdoor with Chris

Now she’s acting like nothing ever happened and bought me a shirt. Story of my life. Happy Easter or Passover, or whatever you kids are celebrating these days.

I have a lot of vids I haven’t pushed out yet, blog ideas, shit like that. Stay tuned. It’s just a thrill a minute over here.

My friend is mad at me again, nothing new there. I had told her I thought Dusty the stray had an injury or something to his eye. Today I saw him in the daylight, which is kind of rare, and noticed there was some green mucous and red in his eye. I told my friend this. Later, we held him down and gave him some antibiotic in his eye, but then she got a good look at him and flipped out at me. “You said it looked a little foggy. He’s probably blind!”

“I’m not a vet. I don’t know,” I said. She began to berate me, maybe deservingly, about staying in the house all the time and being lazy. Something about my mental problems and excuses. That it was a good thing I never had children ( a point I fully agree with). That how could I stand myself? That I cost her thousands of dollars. Just look at Katie and Callie! she said. Katie, to be fair to me, has an autoimmune disease, but is thriving at her house now. Callie I look after and has herpes. So there was extenuating circumstances for their decline. I feel like pure shit though.