I am a little embarrassed to post this now, as her most recent post tells about the death of a Bangledeshi blogger, meat cleaver end to death on the way home. His girlfriend only had her finger chopped off, but she lost him. I am ending another love. Hopefully, I won't be punished, on my way home from this dive bar. Going out alone at 2am as a tiny, disabled woman. Is there ever a question of deserving? Is that to be too dramatic? Just be wise to the street and working class? I hate everything about this question. But I love all of you and ever sheltered poor someone right here on n this wet Bukowski island.
Saturday, February 28, 2015
On Bhanu's blog yesterday
I am on the Friday interview series on Bhanu Kapil's blog. Talking more freely, about my life In this Desert Island in Florida, and sex work art, then I ever have. BK, like a good bodyworker, holding the space for me. (To embrace the dirt shit sex base of my typos as art language.) http://jackkerouacispunjabi.blogspot.com/2015/02/friday-interview-series-amber-dipietra.html?m=1
on Twitter
, where this blog lives now. because it can be read and posted to through that app, one-handed, on my back, by a body of water, or in the cool olive green light above my mattress. This is articulation my spine had not dreamed of before.
Tweets by @thebodypoetik
My blog lived on Tumblr for a minute
because it is so much easier to access from my phone.
fallinginrealtime.tumblr This is the feed.
No, I don't like it. I can't add another virtual box. I'll make due with Twitter.