these texts are an archive of my life in the San Francisco Bay Area from march 2007 - march 2015. it stands as a record of close to a decade of my life, charting the struggles i faced as an artist, daughter, and lover. messy and chaotic at times, eloquent and poetic at others, these texts are an index i am proud of. it was here in this electric box that i learned how to be honest about my experiences and the person i needed to become. it was here that i first learned the truism that words make the world and how to trust such a beautiful, rife, hard fact.

thank you for meeting me here in such tall grass.

my artist website is here.

Dec 30, 2011


i begin to think at times that i might be one of the worst people on the planet. i know this isn't true. one of those strange fears left over from childhood. the bad habit of self-hate. there are plenty of people out there who are way worse than i could ever be but, still, i think it. i feel it. some sort of cold nausea of the heart. the pounding of such a sad organ. round and round we go, all this aching blood looking for an outlet, an outcry, some sort of solace from what the world is and what life has been.

i am such a fucking downer here. tis the season in so many ways. this white rectangle is my repository for all the bad little things i hide in real life. it is the precious receptacle of everything dirty and mean and whiny. i can be totally unattractive and completely loathsome here and the only punishment i can count on is that no one will read these words which, in this age, is a big blessing. who knows what the hell i'm trying to say anyway. this has become a death blog and i really don't know what that means or entails. i finished reading Close to the Knives and it was all so painful and beautiful and i thought that if i can at least outfit my friends in black sweaters and black banners and leave them with some interesting things to read before i die i will have done alright.

he writes: "i want to be untouchable and without need."

i writhe beneath such a sentence. i know exactly what he means and it makes my heart hurt. i want to feel such a deep, inconsolable void that pain doubles over itself like a somersault and spits out something beautiful and necessary. something beyond all this whining, all this conjecture, and hungry hands searching in the dark blankets for some amount of security.

i can't name the things i wrestle with. nouns have no power over them. still, i lean in toward the future with hopeful eyes like a child. such a big hope that i am blistered by it, radiant and expectant and willing to go on trying and working and struggling.


Elisabeth said...

But to be untouchable, Angela is a terrible fate, however distressed you might feel in your vulnerability. We all need to be touched in some ways, sat some time, or else we cease to be human. at least that's my take. I hope things pick up for you soon. I'm in a bit of a funk myself, but it will pass.

Hannah Stephenson said...

Some deep work going on for you, huh, dear?

Remember: what you make MATTERS!

angela simione said...

elisabeth- yes, tomorrow will be better. this cloud will move off and thin itself out.

i no longer know what makes a human. does that seem strange? i just really have no idea. we are such an odd species and i am trying to set down some very naive notions i've lived with for the majority of my life that have really only served to hurt me. i know that art is the best thing i can do with my time and so i focus on that. i am touched by the words we push out and the whispers we offer one another. i would never want to be untouchable if it meant losing those things.

angela simione said...


yeah... it's the time of year, i suppose. and the Awful Anniversary is coming too. a hard, deep re-examination of so many things is currently underway. it is a slow-moving and horrible thing some days.

and thank you so much, sweet one. i sure hope so. sometimes there really is nothing more i want to do that make warm sweaters for everyone. wrap everyone up safely and lovingly in dark, sweet phrases and give them a place to stow their own secrets.

i feel hurt and wronged this week. by Fate. if that shit even exists. and if it does, i'll be extra pissed off.

Jane Lancaster said...

i'm with you in this mood angela.. having a hard time. i feel wronged this week what did i do to deserve this...xo i like that you call it a death blog..very much.

angela simione said...

jane! good to see your sweet face! i'm so sorry for these hard days. sometimes i look around and think in a whispering voice, "i hate everything". i know i don't mean it, but it feels that way and it feels honest. i know you know what i mean.

i'm glad you like the death blog. i was feeling a bit iffy about it... like maybe i talk too much about it and am driving people away but i think it's important to give voice to these things. especially in america where death is glossed over and shoved out of sight.

Jane Lancaster said...

talk about death too much? not for me. every time you do i'm with you. i'm exhausted this year. i'm going to lie down, my thoughts are with you dear Angela :)

angela simione said...

:) thank you, jane. and mine with you.