website link

thursday 21 january 2010, turners flails

Today someone helped me set up a blog-based website. Click here to go there.
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read... Mugsy's book... All my stars...

(tapestry available from www.gaelsong.com)
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all photos, graphics, poems and text copyright 2008-2011, unless otherwise stated. all rights reserved.
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wednesday 30 december 2009

turners falls

See ya later, 2009. I ended 2008 deeply disappointed in trying to communicate with people on the internet, and now I end 2009 the same way.

I write 5 on-line journals on 4 different websites, and now am knitting them together into one conglomerate website. I've hoped for nearly two years that I'll find people about my age with about my interests, and people who might be just a bit peeved about what was done to me and my animals. But it simply doesn't happen. I go on writing for other reasons now, but it's not easy. Like standing at a podium, speaking to an empty room. Or a room full of the deaf.
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read... Mishibone... Neverending solitaire...

~~~~ website ~~~~~~~~~
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monday 14 december 2009

greenfield

Why do I continue writing these on-line journals, I often wonder. I don't write the kinds of things that people are looking for: entertaining things, things of interest to people 35 and under. So why?

During the long time I've been writing these real-life events on the internet, I've had different reasons for going on. But now I go on for my death, which I'd hoped to be able to bring about myself, but so far... My relatives have no interest in these journals now, while I'm alive: I'm not taken seriously as a human being, as far as I can tell, by anyone related to me. But perhaps when I've died there will be at least some meager morbid curiosity about who this woman really was. As long as I breathe they define me, and I'm not allowed to define and describe myself. Maybe when I no longer breathe there will be a change, but of course I can't be sure.

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read... Lifelines... Lucked out...

~~~ website ~~~~~~~~~~~

all photos, graphics, poems and text copyright 2008-2011 by anne nakis, unless otherwise stated. all rights reserved.
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anne nakis, or nemo

Saturday 7 Nov 2009, Greenfield

I can't haunt the streets of Turners Falls today, the ghost, the Nemo (no-one), the frantic Demeter searching, and scourging the earth over her lost Persephone. There are no buses today.

I've called myself no-one on this blog, and on another I've called myself sehnen (longing). I'm both of those things. And if my personal archetypes have become Demeter frantic over her stolen daughter and Deirdre of the Sorrows, crying for 12 years over her murdered love and in the end killing herself, it's because of the last 12 hell years. I haven't gone into much of the hell pre-dating the stealing of my family in 2008, but those years actually began in 1997, and culminated in the destruction of my life last year. But all of my on-line journals, whatever I'm talking about in them, give clues to the damage that's been done over the last 12 years.


(resin figurine at www.toscano.com)

Click here to more about Deirdre.

read... Braonwandering... Spite and malice

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wednesday 4 november 2009

Turners Falls

Ah, all the updating of last year's blog posts. This is the blog I've been the slowest with. It's a lot of work, and a lot of thinking about things from last year that still hurt a great deal. From time to time I'm burnt out and have to take a break.

Last year at this time I was living in Peskeomskut Park in Turners Falls, whereas now I'm living in a rented bedroom in Greenfield. But two years ago, in November 2007, I was still in my own life, in my own home with my animals, living the last November we would ever have together. Three Novembers, so different from each other, and yet each bloated with pain in its own special way.

website.

(all photos, graphics, poems and text copyright 2008-2011 by anne nakis, unless otherwise stated. all rights reserved)

saturday 17 october 2009

Page Fifty-two

Greenfield...

All is status quo. I go to Turners to haunt what was my own life. I wait on a waiting list for a tiny apartment in a small institutional building in Turners, which I will hate. I've never lived that way. There will be no animals. I'll continue murdering minutes away as I've done for the past nineteen months, but I don't live. Not in any meaningful sense of the word. I exist. Matthew is still here, and we are still estranged, which we will remain. I have the one human friend, D.

My daughter's father has killed himself, and I grumble in a dark envy that this long-absent person was able to do what I haven't been able to do: to end the misery. I'm much smarter than he was, and educated, and much more sensitive than he was. Why could he do this simple and final ending of misery, and I can't.

Not Human
website

wednesday 7 october 2009

Page Fifty-0ne

Greenfield


Nobody Nowhere. The title of a book I've recently read. But also the title of my existence since 12 March 08, when my whole life and everyone I love were taken away. Nobody nowhere has been me for the last 18 months. In many ways, Nobody Nowhere has been me my whole life. Me vis-a-vis other people: nobody much. I take the anti-depressant, I take the anti-anxiety, but these don't give me back my life and my loves. These don't turn me into somebody again. They don't make the enormous grief just magically go away. Nor would I want pills to do that. I'm not a believer in stuffing emotions down, or pretending they're not there to begin with.

~~~~~~~~~~ website ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

all photos, graphics, poems and text copyright 2008-2011 by anne nakis, unless otherwise stated. all rights reserved.