“Manifest plainness” by Julia in her bed

Sunday, May 13, 2018
6:19am
5 minutes
From a quote on by Lao Tzu

The colour is right
Light pink, baby blue, hazy orange

The wake up is long
pushing the eyelashes open slowly
almost drifting off and farther away

The label on the alarm is a message from past me, wisdom and honesty
Please Write. I Love You.
And it works by the time I travel there

Eyelids weigh a wet feather or a hundred pounds and we take it easy
The body machine is working hard at staying up to see the seagulls swooping close to the window but not quite
The body machine is looking for excuses to stay asleep

One eye open, seeing the room through a dream

“you called me at 5:30, said you couldn’t sleep” by Julia on the 99


Monday August 7, 2017
10:36pm
5 minutes
overheard on the 99

The phone buzzes beside my dreams and I think for a sleep second (which in real life is like, 100 wisps of sand) that you are dying and I am the only one who can love you when you’re dying. I can’t give you money but I can give you that. You want a soft arm to hold when the sky opens up? I can be that for you.
When my body alerts me to wake up (and I always wake up) there is a voicemail from you saying that you can’t sleep. My internal clock knows when it’s time to reach you. It knows 5am like a rock in a shoe.

“Who wrote those poems?” by Julia at Parco della Zucca


Friday October 17,2014
3:18pm
5 minutes
Advanced Italian Grammar
Marcel Danesi


I might have been dreaming them. They seemed to fill my skin to the brim causing slight tremors and excessive use of metaphors. The sky was speaking directly to me and she was nudging me, trying to give me the answers without incriminating herself. She nodded. She winked. I couldn’t get the message because I was half listening and laugh-halfing and she gave up on me before I could say Ah, yes, I get it now. Laugh-halfing happens in between sleep and awake: a backwards place where the mind cannot meet up with the body. It tries, but wires get crossed and signals get lost. Sometimes I don’t hear the sky, I hear Nina Simone instead. But the body doesn’t know how to move. Just to describe movement with colours and poems.

“Do you have what it takes” by Julia at Gertrude Park


Sunday June 22, 2014
2:48pm
5 minutes
from an email

This was something I’d asked myself already today. Already this morning, and again this afternoon, if I’m being honest. I’m trying to be honest, I guess that’s the whole point in asking that same question over and over again. DO YOU HAVE WHAT IT TAKES? And when I answer I look myself right in the eye (you know mirrors were invented for self-motivation? Look it up, I swear) and I answer, in that moment, in that second, YES, NO, or DAMN STRAIGHT. Sometimes, being honest is the hardest thing because you have to look deep inside yourself and assess every single thing that’s going on with you, that makes you feel good, that makes you feel bad, and really truly dissect if you’re happy, and willing, and ready, and able. You know? Like all of those things have to add up to the proper sum and if they don’t, well, hey, at least you know the truth. At least you’re not faking it for anyone else and the lie that you tell will come back to bite you in the dreams. I know this from experience. I live out my truths while I’m awake, so I don’t have to deal with the lies I tell myself when I’m asleep. It’s worked, so far, and that’s why I ask the question. It’s not even specific. I just know in every moment, every second, what it is I’m wondering about and if I have what it takes to do it.