“cultivate the kind of robust gladness” by Julia on the bed

Friday July 20, 2018
11:37pm
5 minutes
The Spiral Staircase
Karen Armstrong

When your heart opens you know it in the stiff of your ribs
the slow of your knee
Everything breathes, even the crease of your doubt,
the no in your lips
Wouldn’t it be wonderful to feel that?
If I were a witch I’d cast a spell that wouldn’t let me forget how easy it is to be kind to myself:
It would have it’s own incantation, sung by the bones wishing in my skin
to be held and touched
And I have to be open as it can’t get in if I’m not
I want to cultivate that and if I don’t say it out loud
it might never come true

Thankful now for moments of clarity like these
And for the wisdom of my future me, the one who knows how good I am

If I were a witch I’d…
oh wait…I’d…hold on…
close your eyes

say this one
with me

“everything is ending” by Julia at the studio

Monday June 18, 2018
1:14pm
5 minutes
A Visit from the Goon Squad
Jennifer Egan

Good timing. I was about to flip my shit.
Who do I flip my shit toward, anyway? Is there
someone out there who has the necessary skills to
deal with shit being flipped at them?
Do they specialize in flipping shit back over or something?
It’s a good thing that everything is ending.
because I am not sure how much more beginning I can take.
New life, new friends, new ideas about my eyebrows.
This shit takes time to build and see and I think what is
worse is that it does not take long to flip, just long to
decide to flip it. Flip the shit I mean, If I wasn’t being clear.
Things are ending and the new moon is like, Yo, do your new thing.
We are all new. We are all brand new babies sucking on the nipple of life
hoping there’s enough milk to keep us from crying our heads off.
That’s what the new moon says. I swear to god she is full of shit herself
but like, it’s the moon, and she may be royalty but she’s not an asshole.
She doesn’t think she’s better than us.
I like my moon to have a little bit of attitude anyway.
She’s not pretending to be better than us new babies trying to navigate
this ridiculous existence. She sees it all, so she knows how common
the scrambling around is.
And now that everything is ending I can finally take a shit
instead of piling shit on shit and getting buried in a world
of my own misguided making.
I’m still talking metaphoric shit here, cause I never really let
that whole concept go. I’m working on making some more specific shit.
That’ll be good when it all ends and has to begin again.

“from lips to hips” by Julia at Tarragon Theatre


Tuesday, April 2, 2013 at Tarragon Theatre
7:32pm
5 minutes
Sandpaper
Satish Verma


I broke the seal with these crackers that aren’t particularly good. I can’t have anything fatty, or oily, or good, basically. I’m starving and I have to eat every two hours but I’m trying to avoid chocolate! Ugh. How am I? Don’t even ask. I’m upset that my life is fading before my very eyes because my mother, AKA society, thinks that I’ll get ugly if anything goes wrong. From lips to hips. That’s what they say. How are you getting home James? Can I also get a ride from your father? And could we please stop by Timmy’s and like, get a doughnut? I know I’m not supposed to have a doughnut right now but that’s what I want. That’s what I really want. I’ll even buy you one, James! And your dad too if he likes doughnuts. I was thinking about the sprinkled ones. Those ones make me the happiest. Did you want one of these? Sorry I got so carried away I forgot to even offer any to you. And sorry that they’re not particularly good.