Sunday, August 19th, 2018 2:22pm

Berkeley – Moon Room


Dear You,

I think we’re done with packing for Burning Man. We did it! It was a long haul yesterday, literally. With our giant 26ft long Budget rental truck and 16 giant bins all filled with costumes, furry coats, shoes, 4 sets of sheets, blankets, pillows, towels, kitchenware (including a vitamix), food, spices, snacks, toiletries, bike gear, tools, paper towels, We’re quite pleased with ourselves and our foresight to account for possibly almost everything we might possibly need, especially to eat really well.



P comes home.


Just checked my Moment app. Some sort of notification popped up.

It tells me, I use my phone on average an hour and 8 min a day while the average person uses theirs for 3hr 57 min.

I’m 2hr 49 min below the average. Not bad.

For the first time, I’m happy to be below average.

I just paid 3.99 for the premium version. Something about tools to help me use the phone less.


Monday, August 20th, 2018








WHAT DO I DO???????????

LET GO????????

I’m trying to breathe…



I just lost all my thoughts I wanted to share with you (and thought I did but I didn’t and now it’s all gone).

Everything I was was thinking and feeling. I feel at a lost.


There were so many details.

After all these long wordless days, I was finally able to sit down and write to you, and I did, it all poured out..

To nothing.


So much randomness. That can’t be repeated.

I felt so00000 good catching you up on everything.


And now it’s gone, the words from that moment.


I can try to go back and recount my day, but it wasn’t just the day, it was the random fleeting thoughts and ideas that I had…


Oh well.

It’s Tuesday afternoon (3:22pm) as I write this.

It’s okay. It’s okay.

If it weren’t for the lost pages, there wouldn’t be this.

This tightness in my throat.

This sinking feeling of losing something so extremely impermanent.

My thoughts as they came to me and flowed from my fingertips to you.

I saw the words appear on the screen.

But it didn’t mean a thing.

If you never saw it

And I can’t remember what I wrote.


It was just a day.

What would happen if I lost everything I made up to this point?

I should be greatful.


The one artifact from last night.

Was that I spent 44 min figuring out how to create a new email.

For you to write me.




I just thought it would be more intimate. The act of composing and sending an email to pervette rather than writing in a box on pervette.


Oh my god, my throat feels tight.


I can’t believe I lost so many words.

It doesn’t help that I am obsessive about it.



I was high, I’m sure my highdeas weren’t that great anyways.


Sour grapes.


What’s gonna make me feel better?

I have to make the lost fruitful.

I have to write about lost and how it makes me feel.


So hopelessly sad..

So full of regret.

Words lost.

Time lost.

And all I have right now is a sinking feeling.



I did record the sounds of me typing all those words to you.

Maybe I’ll share that sound with you.

The sound of me trying to write to you.

If only I had read what I wrote out load.



How do I make myself better

For being a fucking idiot??


Oh god, I’m not used to this.

To losing things.

It’s a feeling I don’t ever think I can get used to..


One moment I was manically high (read below under Tuesday afternoon)

The next I’m crestfallen

The only thing that’s getting me out of this is writing to you, on the same part of the page that supposedly filled with my words to you (from the night before).

What am I sad about?

That some part of myself that I shared with you is now gone.

That what I wrote on Monday night is gone.

That all I have is Tuesday afternoon right now,

And Tuesday afternoon is not the same as Monday night.

Oh wait.




Oh shit. (It’s 11:11pm Tuesday) I just found my “lost” writing.

I actually didn’t lose any of it.

As I was talking to my mom and taking notes on her early entry into sewing/kitting I realize I was writing in last week’s entry, and when I looked above, I saw that it contained last night’s entry. Ooooh!

I just wrote it in last week’s entry.





Now I’m slightly self-conscious because I made it out to seem like what I wrote and lost was important, but I bet it was embarrassingly bad writing. Maybe I should delete it and not even tell you that I found it.


Anyways here is what I wrote and thought I lost.


Monday, August 20, 2018, 7:44pm

Berkeley – Moon Room

Dear You,

Oh my gosh, I have too many things I want to tell you, I don’t’ where to begin..


Like do you want the events or the thought and ideas attached to them?

Do you want to give you the details, or the highlights?

But what if it’s all the details combined that makes the highlight?

How do you I tell you everything?


I just need some days to myself to go back..


I think I’m gonna get that this week..

I’m so excited.

I have all of tomorrow and Wednesday, and most of Thursday, and Friday and Saturday all to myself.

I like to really make some huge progress on Pervette.


Like I want to build the next level of intimacy.


On the drive back from JetSutiteX just right now, I saw myself making a video for you, where I thank you for going deeper with me, to the next level of intimacy.


That’s the payoff for your curiosity. I get more vulnerable. You get closer to me.


It’s a dare for me to do something different, to put myself out there, to you..


I know it’s gonna be awkward.

But awkward is real.

And real is good.


I also had this crazy idea.


I’m going to get rid of my stuff by giving it to you.

Like every cd I own.

If I write a handwritten note to you in the cd sleeve

Telling you my history behind the songs and album

How it bookmarked my life

Which song I masturbated to

Or dance to


You get my liner notes


I take a picture of it

And share it here.


I sign it to you

And infuse it with my prayers, for you.


We create this exchange

Under the conditions

That we both have to believe

That things can carry energy.


Part of me is with you.

Can you feel me

Through my words

Can you see me

listening to this song

with you?


At which point

does that become art?


When you say

I’ll give you this

And if you give me that


It’s the exchange.


The exchange is trust

That there is value

In this exchange.


At every moment

we have an oppurtunity

to create value from trust.


I need to articulate to you

My vision

Really clearly.


So clear that you can see it



And once you get it.

Can you please tell me

Can you please show me

That you get it.



If I give pieces of my life to you..


And we both call it art.


Is it art?


I just want to fuck with art.



All I have to do is make is keep on making “art”

That we can create value from


by creating an exchange from it?


Is that how art and value works?



I’m going to make it worth it for you.





life art ideas

aka thoughts from a narcissist.




I just spent the last 44 min

trying to set up a new email account

so that you can email me directly


Note to future self:

If you want to add a new user/email account

Go to google admin, not account


(jesus christ

is this a good use of my high time?)


I had this idea thought while I was driving


Doesn’t it feel more intimate if you email me directly?


Something about the act of composing an email from your own account


So anyways

Here it is

my new email account



maybe you can appreciate

the slight double entendre


email me if you want


know that i’ll be reading it


But you won’t be getting a response from me


Through the usual way



And if I find your message fruitful

I’ll share it


And respond to to it


On Pervette



That’s right



By submitting to Pervette

You’re consenting to sharing your words

And creating a transparent exchange with me

Here on Pervette


That’s the point


Everything has potential

To be more than what it initially is


Even the beginning of our connection


I’m just playing with a thought


What if our words to each other

Can be more than words to each other?


What if by writing to you

And you writing to me



We’re generating content





To a monomaniac

Every thing feeds back to its obsession.


If you want to connect with me

You have to submit @ pervette

and its rules


Rule #1:

Make everything art




Dear You,

Whoa. I’ve been writing to you for the past

(how long?)

about a random idea

I had.


On Level’s Viper Cookies.


Is it ridiculous that I feel slightly productive

Because I created a new email account?


It feels like a subtle rabbithole

That can lead to more rabbitholes on pervette.


All depending on you


I still have questions to reply to..


I’m somehow


very optimistic

that I will find the time

to do


i want to do.


I’ve been inspired by

Bo Burnham

And his film

Eighth Grade





I feel like I can never do justice

In describing or accounting my relationships.


I can try.



the words will come to me

but right now

it’s still missing so many nuances.




Can I tell you about . my day?


I woke up around 7:30am

P got up, he showered, while I was in bed staring at Cutie


Who wants plantain pancakes and a green smoothie?

Me me me! I said even though my body didn’t want to get up.

I’ll meet you up there.


When I finally got up

P came downstairs with his laptop and wallet

He’s gonna head out and go into the city early

He says there’s not enough plantains for pancakes

(there’s 2 plantains, which is enough, but one is green, one is yellow, the receip calls for 2 green plantains)

And he can’t find the measuring cup for the smoothie

(We packed two of them in the burning man truck, which took off yesterday,

and the 3rd one is on my bedside table because I used it as a cup for my tulsi sleep tea)

He’s gonna take off and get breakfast at St. regis

Okay, that’s cool.

I can tell he’s feeling more business-y and not so muppety.

But then he got muppety when he said goodbye.

It was 8.

I have an hour and a half before I need to take off for the dentist

appt at 10am.


I started my morning pages

But then I got distracted

by A’s text

He sent a link to a video he made of his comic collection room

where he shows the viewer his insane collection

and obsession with swamp thing

it was so inspiring


Considering we’re both in very similar positios

We both moved into a house with our partner

Worked on it

Made it our home

And now

Very suddenly

Thanks to our partners

we have to part with it


We both have an obsession with artifacts

like books

And so moving is not so easy


My mind went back to last night.

How in P’s mind, he thinks we’re gonna sell this house very soon

Like end of September.


It feels too rushed.

I ‘m not ready.


There’s still things I want to do

To make the most of this space before I say goodbye


I want to memorialize this space

I want to capture its essence

The impermanence of it all


I wish I was constantly capturing b roll of this space and its evolution


I wish I wish.


The bittersweetness of

a time cut short

missed oppurttunities

to create magic


P texted me a tim ferris tweet

He ranked his most listened to podcast episodes

the top one was

An erotic playbook by the world’s top earning sexworker

Alice Little


it’s good to know that sex sells/downloads

I started listening to it as I got ready.


Since D took the car

I got an uber

Older jewish? man

With nondescript mints in red and yellow cellophane wrappers on the side of the doot

The driver didn’t seem friendly

At first



You get a lot of deer here?


What about coyotes?

Yep they’re here too.

That’s nice. They’re both passive animals, afraid of humans. They’ll run away if they see you.

They only bite if you try to feed them.

(maybe that’s what happened to me)


I try to not be on my phone, or listen to my podcast, it’s rare to be a passenger, driving down this hill

I get to look out the window from the side and take in the houses and plants


The belladonnas

Or naked ladies

are in full bloom.


There’s something about these flowers

Their perfect shade of pink

The way they stand so tall and upright on their stems

The way they transport me back to late August of 2007

When I first noticed them.

And every subsequent August after.


They remind us

Another summer is almost over


Was it the ride that slowed me down

It was 9:40am

I felt like I was a kid being driven to school

I listened.


See this building here (he’s pointing to the building on the northwest corner of college and alcatraz), this is where the first noah’s bagels was.


Yep. I know Noah.  Noah was the son of the baker. You know the picture of the boy holding the bagels? That’s Noah.


Then it moved to where Genova’s deli was.

Oh yeah I know that place.

Then it got bought out by some big company I can’t remember. Now Noah’s a billionaire.

How did Noah’s Bagels get so big?

They’re just really good bagels. Is this the medical building?

Yep. Thanks..


I got out. For once I was early to my appt. I wonder if it’s because I’m wearing my swatch watch.


Whenever I step into Dr. Albright’s office I feel like I’m back in the 80’s

It’s the soft rock station.


I got a new dental hygenist, C, she’s blonde with bangs, late 40’s, early 50’s, sweet-looking

She asked me if I was up to anything this past weekend.

I said I was packing for Burning Man.

Her eyes lit up.

Oh you’re going to love it! She says.

Her old boss used to go over year

And share photos














P and his casio watch

Me and my swatch watch

I think it’s an amulet or a symbol or a clue


Something about the art of timing.


Our relationship is at an all time peak.

It feels like we’re two kids

Constantly playing.


All we want to do is be muppety

And make fun

Of each other.



Looking into cameras

And home security cameras..



I just bought a Wyze security cam.

For several reasons..

One. To record everything.

Two. To make art

What I consumed: ACV, lemon water, pistachios P brought up from LA and I poured out into a bowl for my sis and her broker friend which they didn’t have any; an arugula salad that my sis got me which P had 1/2 of when he showed up at Summer Kitchen, 3 big bites of 1/2 a crispy chicken sandwich that my sis s[lit with me, tamari almonds and 1/2 Hu cashew butter vanilla ben chocolate bar P and I got at Whole Foods while on the ride home, 2 perfect plantain pancakes P made for us to share, a green smoothie we both made; 1/2 Hu almond butter puffed quinoa chocolate bar while on the ride to the airport, more tamari almonds



Tuesday, August 21, 2018, 2:22pm

Berkeley – Library


Dear You,

I can’t tell you how happy I am today (or maybe I can?).

To have this whole day

All to myself.


I feel like a giddy kid excited about every single project I have on the docket.


Ever since I picked up that Times magazine on creativity and read about Leonardo da Vinci being super distracted and having tons of projects, most of which he never finished, I feel so at peace with my ADHD self.

This whole day has been a string of meditative and creative distractions.

I didn’t even finish writing out the 3rd page of my morning pages because I got carried away with doing the dishes. I even went so far as to pull out the dirty dishes from the dishwasher and wash everything by hand, because it feels so good to.

Then I made myself a hot drink (I haven’t in a while) and enjoyed every sip of it.

I picked up 3 books that caught my eye (Spiraldance, The Art of the Erotic, and Blog, Inc) and opened it anywhere and started reading.

Ideas that caught my attention:

Shadowplay exercise, Rhythmplay exercise, gotta trademark Pervette, name files with short dashes..


Sex and art are the same thing.

-Pablo Picasso


I feel like I want to catch the 4 o clock showing of McQueen.

I’m tempted to invite P2 but there’s a chance I might get distracted by sometihn else and not want to catch a film. I want to keep this day open and uncommited.

Besides, when was the last time I caught a matinee all by myself?


Oh and I got to meditate and chant in the orgy room this morning.

When I opened my eyes, I saw Cutie stating at me, looking all cute, so I grabbed my Canon 5D from downstairs and started taking pictures of her. Then I switched over to video mode and started getting some b-roll of her and then moved around and captured random places around the house.. like my typewriter collection, my musical instrument corner, my library, my cinnamon tree, my altars.

I washed the sheets, put away the massage table that was in the gym.

I started remembering and noting what happened last Monday, and the Sunday before that..I think I’ll use my weekly planner to-do list as a place to note the events of the day.

I wrote out my to do list.


I made a mail art envelope to hold the check that I wrote out for J (for $555.55) for her DP work in NY. It brought me back to my college days when I was making transparent envelopes for my mail art.

There’s something very meditative about playing with tape and scissors and drawing stick figures.


When I went to the mailbox to stick the letter in, there was a package from Germany for me. It was from my friend M. I opened it, inside was a copy of Polanski (I love their splash pages on their website back in the day (pre May 2018) when videos would load on the first page)) magazine and a skinny zine called Power Makes us Sick (PMS).

How did he know? This is perfect inspo..


I feel so manic and high and yet I haven’t even smoked.


I need to do this more often.

Not plan anything

And do whatever I want

At every moment


Its a Free Day!


I haven’t showered and I won’t, I don’t even want to wash my face before I go out.

And to top it off it’s cloudy. I feel like cloudy days make everything feel like a good idea. You can stay in and feel good about cuddling up with a hot drink and  several books, or you can go out, catch a matinee and not feel bad that you’re missing out on on the precious sun. Or if you want to go for a walk in the cemetery, you totally can.

I’m in the mood for everything.

I’m so manically happy right now.


I feel so grateful for this day, for this extra time in this home, for my life.


In my dream last night, I was in a really neat space, there were 3 people positioned in a triangle, the space felt like a tea room. I was supposed to get back to a friend, she was Asian and English was her second language.

I opened up a book with a friend, it was an illustrated Alice in Wonderland. Almost every single page had this beautiful colored foil inlay. Every page was a work of art.


I want to make every page a work of art in Pervette.


I want to make everything a work of art.


I want to make

my life

my work

of art.



I have so much energy I think I should go out for a walk and then catch the matinee showing of McQueen.


Oh my god I love my life.


Oh my god, I just lost everything I wrote last night.

I feel a tightness in my throat.

Should I stay in and write out everything I’m feeling

And frantically try to remember what I wrote?

Or should I go out and catch McQueen?

I don’t know.


I have to say

If there was a time to lose something

I’m glad it was right before now

When I was a manic upswing.


I’m fine I’m fine.

I wrote about art..



I’m catching McQueen.




Dear You,

I got to catch the 4:15 showing of McQueen. At the concession stand, I picked up a free bookmark promoting the release of a book by a local author.

Bookmarks. That’s a good idea.


It only took me getting out of the house to forget about the lost entry.

I’m over it.

It’s just words.

And highdeas.


I feel like I’m easily inspired by everything I take in.


I’ve been wanting to design my own clothes.

My mom’s really good at sewing, knitting, and crocheting..

Why have I been so lazy and never had her teach her to knit or crochet.

I think I tried. But I’m left-handed, which made it hard for her to teach me..

I think I’m gonna call her up now.


She learned when she was 5. She saw her cousin’s mother learn how to knit and sew. So she just copied her. She was half her cousin’s age and yet she would do her older cousin’s knitting assignments for her.

She was knitting hats and sweater for her family when she was 9.


Oh what?? All the writing I thought I lost was actually written up in the wrong entry!


Thank god I didn’t dwell on it for too long, since I didn’t really lose anything…


I’m so silly.



Dear You,

Today was a really good day. I wrote, read, meditated, chanted, made mail art, cleaned, made perfect plantain pancakes, ate it with blueberries and goat butter, caught a matinee of McQueen, got some Saigon cinnamon sticks and a microblade at Oaktown Spice Shop (to up my hot drinks game), got more lemons and avocados, and came home and made a big salad, P calls to to connect, he caught a matinee too, then called mom and found the writing I thought I lost.


Every one is catching Crazy Rich Asians and telling me to go check it out: my friend C, my sister and now P.



I’m losing steam. Gonna try out my new toothbrush and prolly go to bed…


Goodnight you..

P.S. I thought I was going to bed but instead I went down a Russell Brand rabbithole on Youtube, I love how direct he is about his revolutionary vision, and how he intimidates news anchors with his truth-telling.

Omg. I can Russell Brand destroy TV show hosts all night…

Things I put inside me: ACV, Lemon water, hot drink with Moonbeli Calming Adaptogen, bone broth protein, collagen protein, maca, cacao powder, mucuna pruriens, vanilla bean powder, MCT oil, coconut oil, cinnamon, cayenne, a dash of salt, monk fruit and Malk almond milk; 2 plantain pancakes, blueberries, Lulu’s raw almond chocolate, a giant hearty salad with the usual topping, Tulsi cinnamon rose tea

Things I bought: matinee movie ticket, cinnamon sticks, microblade, salt bowl, 2 tiny wooden spoons, 3 small glass bottles, golden milk blend, lemons, avocados, pink eye/stye relief (just in case the dust storms get in my eye at BM), a flossing toothbrush, badger’s lip balm with sunscreen, raw chocolate.

Things/People who inspired me today: Alexander McQueen’s raw vision and  determination to emotionally charge his clothes and show, and ability to find beauty in the ugly and his way of making runway fashion a form of performance art, Russel Brand’s fierceness in interviews and ability to deliver his message clearly, that the revolution is happening;  Starhawk’s Spiraldance..

Time spent on phone today: 25 min

Things still on the to do list: Write obituary, do finances for dungeon, answer Domme questions.


Wednesday, August 22, 2018, 11:33am


Dear You,

Will I ever find the time to go back and add/edit/delete these entries? Maybe this weekend?

I need to.


It’s a lovely cloudy day. I actually slept in till 9.

I thought I was getting old these past few weeks and couldn’t sleep in anymore.

(Because I think that’s what happens when you get old, or at least I see it in my mom. It doesn’t matter how late she stays up, till 3 or 4 in the morning, she still wakes up at 10 everyday)


I’ve been bad about not making a to do list these past couple weeks. With so much going on, there was no point, I already knew what I needed to do everyday. But now I can take care of the things that slipped to the back.


I need to answer the Domme guide questions.


I need to build out this sub path.


I need to build out the next level of intimacy.


My mind goes from clear to distracted so quickly.


Will I be able to insert details into these entries without breaking the initial stream of consciousness?

Or is that my creative challenge?


Every “problem” is a creative challenge.


I find that I sometimes don’t recount what happened because I’m so preoccupied with writing whatever’s on my mind when I’m writing to you..


I stayed up late last night watching Russel Brand’s interview videos.

And the night before I was listening to a Tim Ferris podcast on McKeown’s Essentialism which was about uncommitting and gracefully saying no. Tim’s doing something different, he’s making episodes about books he’s read. That was similar to my idea of wanting to write about books and films that inspire me.

Anyways, this book is quite awesome, because it’s validating my behavior. Where I’m saying no more, guarding my time and energy, spending more time alone, and spending the least amount of time possible corresponding.


I talked to a psychic at the beginning of the year, and she told me that this year is all about writing my book and taking care of myself.




Dear You,


I just spent the last hour and half with M1. We recounted the parallels of our past relationships. How crazy(-making) and insidious gaslighting is.

I’m excited that she’s going to write about her experiences and share them with you here on Pervette.


How does a day go by so quickly and I haven’t left the house?


I’m outside now in the front patio next to the moon room.

Ahh fresh air.

Magic hour.

It’s been a not as productive as I want kinda day. But it never usually is. So all well.


I felt like I spent more time than I expected making plans..

I looked over the menu at the Claremont spa.


book a couples massage for me and P at the Claremont the day after we get back from BM. We’re both getting a facial (Soothe and Restore for P and a Hydrafacial for me, since I want a deep cleansing) and a Aroma Renewal package, it’s a 3 in 1 package that’s perfect for post-BM says the receptionist, it includes a scrub, stone therapy and massage.



I had a good meeting with S1 about Pervette. She noticed I’ve done quite a bit in the past few weeks.

I learned how to play with Pervette even more. I’m kinda understanding what a content block is. I know ..

I’ll be changing up the layout of these entries. I figured out how to make my post images fuller and not cut off..


I gotta go write my obituary.





I was writing my obituary outside when P2 arrived. He carried in with him an envelope left at the front door. It was my Burning Man ticket.


P2 said he has no idea what’s been going on with me since the last he read, I bought a Wyze security camera. That’s weird. I checked Pervette. Oh whoops. I forgot to update the link on the Hello page.

Sorry about that.


We went for a walk around 7:20pm. The sun was to our right and it bright orange. To our left was the scene of the cut down trees. It was quite devastating to see how the one lush woodsy patch of the path is now leveled to a mound of dirt with some tiny trees with broken branches. The path was almost unrecognizable. I can’t even tell where I once walked.

We walked further down to the uncut areas. What’s this white tape roping off this area? I hope they’re not cutting down these trees too.

Why aren’t the neighbors protesting, P2 asked.

I don’t know. I remember a letter being circulated 2 years ago about how the non-native trees are gonna get cut down. There was some organized meeting about it, that I never went. I remember being upset about it and P telling me not to get too worked up about it.

Is P as non-attached to trees as he is to things? P2 asked.

Yes, he is pretty non-attached about it.

He seems to be very non-attached to everything. I guess that’s very zen of him, P2 says.

I think he’s overly attached to non-attachment. Like the way he adamantly wants to throw away the things I still want to keep.


P2 pointed out an owl that was sitting on a branch staring at us.

It was just getting dark enough that there was a bat flapping about. We watched it fly right above and around us.

We walked to our tree. P2 pointed out that there seems to be a path to our secret spot. Maybe it’s not so secret anymore.

We walked back. As we neared the house, there was a makeshift fence put up with a sign that reads, DANGER DO NOT ENTER


I walked around it, P2 followed. I felt queasy being in this once lush now desolate patch. The path to the house is gone. All I see are 2 giant bulldozers and piles of cut trees.

P2 pointed a little beyond, That’s where the fire was last year, he says. It’s strange how there’s been 2 events of destruction that happened so close to your house. Last year was the fire. This year it’s the trees getting cut down.

I need to eat something, to ground myself. We quickly walked back. It was getting dark. The moon was right above us, waxing.


As P2 changed the lightbulbs in the laundry room and swept, I made us a hearty spinach salad.

P2 brought Cutie over to the table. We talked mostly about her as we ate.

I can’t believe P has only recently had your salad for the first time, P2 says. He’s been missing out.

It is weird.

What does P think of Cutie? P2 asks.

He likes her. He also like to provoke me by saying things like she’s not real.

Oh really?

Yeah. But she’s kinda like our child. We feel like she’s all the children that we need. She’s actually the perfect child.

It’s funny how many functions she has, P2 says.  To me, she represents all my ideals.

What are your ideals?

Compassion, unconditional love, an awakened heart.


It’s so rare to win anything from those claw machines, P2 comments.

I know, to get both her and a red mouse at the same time, was even more rare.

I told him that when I won her, that was when I realized that I was a very lucky girl.


There’s something very magical about her.


He asked when did I realize she was cute.

When I was 6, a year after I had got her.


I could go on an on about Cutie.

Actually I will at some point.

You know how there’s the Tao of Pooh?

I know there’s a whole book waiting to be written about Cutie.

And the neat thing is, her story is real.


I’ve been saying this to myself lately (in the past 4 years), it’s all about Cutie, not even knowing what I mean when I say that.


I just know that at some point, there will be an a-ha moment, and what I’ve been saying all along will finally make sense to me.

For now I’m just guessing.

Maybe my story can be told through Cutie’s perspective?


I remember last year I had this weird idea to make stuff animals with camera eyes. That way a whole childhood can be captured through its eyes. You can see how a child plays with their beloved toy, takes care of it, and grows with it and eventually grows out of it.

It was also a way to keep kids safe around preying adults. Maybe creepy adults would behave themselves if they knew they were being watched.


I wish Cutie had a camera eye.

Maybe she does.


P2 has a theory that some spirit from another realm is inhabiting her and this is their way of being in this world.

I told him that M1 thought my spirit child is housed in her.


I remember last year, I had this crazy idea that the spirit of Frank Moore, this local quadriplegic visionary artist who died a decade ago, is inside Cutie.


I remember when I first realized she was cute, I had the thought that maybe she was me. I’m kinda like this scrappy 12 and a 1/2 cent panda that be easily overlooked.

When you look again, and see what you didn’t see before, you realize that you ought to always look twice. And look closer


Lately P has been asking me, how did I get so cute?

I tell him I learned it by watching Cutie.


I have been watching Cutie.
It’s a ritual now. I stare at her for 3-5 minutes before I go to sleep and when I wake up.


She makes all my moody moods melt away.

She has this way of helping me stay concentrated, on her cuteness.


P2 asked if we can check out Cutie’s tumblr he’s been working on. So we did after dinner, it took a minute, since I haven’t checked my tumblr account in forever, I had to reset my password, which was sent to my old gmail account that I haven’t opened in years, which required another password reset. Once everything was set, I was able to check out Cutie’s tumblr

I haven’t seen it since P2 first launched it. All those photos he was taking of her when he was here, there were there along with the quotes he’s collected and curated.

Whoa. It was neat to see her through his eyes. I liked how he captured both her and the random spots in the house that I never thought twice about. He was memorializing the space through her. And the quotes he picked out to match the image of her was so perfect.

There’s something about the pairing.

Was it her that made the words come alive or vice versa?

There was some strange alchemy going on.

P2 was very pleased by how pleased I was.


I had P2 help me put the duvet cover on the comforter and then he was released for the night. I gave him my sweet potatoes, strawberries and grapes.


He listened to my heartbeat. Unusually fast, he says.

I was running upstairs.


Okay, it’s 11:33pm.

Time to write that obituary.




Things I put inside me: ACV, Lemon water, DHA, Brain tea I made with maca and mucuna pruriens

Things/People who inspire me: Greg Mckeown’s Essentialism,

Things I’m grateful for: More time in this house, more time to myself, more time to work on Pervette, P2, P, Cutie, M1


Thursday, August 23, 2018 1:11pm

Berkeley – Round Table


Dear You,

I don’t know what it was…my dream, my morning pages, a good night’s rest..but I have the energy today to film everything I’m doing..


Making my bed

My push-ups

Getting dressed

Making lemon water

Doing the dishes

I want to capture everything

I’m doing

In this home.

Of course it’s for you and me.


I’m so grateful for the opportunity to stay here for a couple more months.

I want to make the most of it.

I want to capture its essence.

At the same time

I want to hone my skills as a videographer.

And I’m finally using this fancy Canon 5D Mark IV B got me.


I just want to let you (and my future self) know

That this is essential to me.



This is how I want to spend my time and energy.


I want to make Pervette into something that moves you.


If all that this is

is just me

showing you

what it looks like

to pour your soul into something

Then that’s okay with me

At least you know what it looks like.


What I put inside her: ACV, lemon water, 2 egg avocado tacos, dark chocolate dipped in pistachio butter, white french wine S2 brought, pistachios


Friday, August 24, 2018, 9:33am

Berkeley – Moon Room


Dear You,

I’ve been trying to not get distracted when I write out my morning pages. Instead of going upstairs to write them out and get carried away by everything. I stay in bed and write out my dream and morning pages. It’s been a game changer.

I know exactly what I essentially need to do for the day.


Yesterday was such a creative productive day. The funny thing is I did everything that I would typically do in a day all by myself. But the only difference was that I turned on the camera. And strangely it became a completely different but same experience.


The words for my obituary flowed so easily when I was writing it out (high) in my journal.

I still need to type it up. Edit and send it out to the class. I’m late.


So many revelations came to me.

That feeling I get when I’m in this house and look around me and get overwhelmed by its impermanent beauty, I can actually sublimate that by turning on the camera.

Once it’s captured it’s both impermanent and not.


I think people get attached to the concept of impermanence as if it’s a bad thing to want to record an ephemeral moment.


What I’m saying is that if I ask you if I can record this, please don’t judge me.

And please don’t say no.



Dear You,

I just got done eating a pint of tamari almonds

and I have a working draft of my obituary.



I just had a thought.

Maybe my evolving obituary can be my evolving table of contents.


When my crush is in town and wants to hang and I’m not sure if I want to be pulled away from writing to you


When P wants to come up a day earlier to hang out and go to Mountain View together to pick up the treats for BM and I tell him I was looking forward to a Saturday all to myself


I’m so keenly aware of what’s essential to me.

It’s Pervette.


Let me quickly catch you before I go cuddle with a book and fall asleep.

I got a gel manicure at my salon at 5:11pm, then I went into the city and got dinner with L at Town House. She invited me to a queet party called something Lonely, I politely declined saying I want to get up early and work on Pervette. On the way to the city I was listening to the audio version of Essentialism on the chapter about how to uncommit.

I asked her what time is her flight tomorrow.



No AM. I’m planning on staying up all night.


It’s okay. I woke up at 5 today.



What time did you go to bed?



No PM.


I don’t know how she does it. 18 hours of sleep.

She said she slept for 3 days straight once.

That’s crazy..


L has this interesting energy. Slightly sleepy yet very present. She listens more than she talks. I usually find myself being the overly chatty one to fill in the silence. But lately I’ve been going slow and allowing some awkward space fill in. I think it might be the meds she’s taking, or that she’s an otherwordly character that I like to put on a pedestal, because I oftentimes thinks she’s perfect, all of that makes her energy mysteriously hard to read.


Or maybe there’s something about queers and social interaction, I find that when I’m among queers, I get weirdly awkward and yet totally at peace with it.


L’s wearing the leather waist purse I have. I like how she copied me.


She says my obsessive recording reminds her of Andy Warhol.

I make a note to look into that.


When I got home, I texted A that I don’t have the energy to make it out tonight.


P calls because he wants to hear my mupp voice.

He’s been adding the word “fucking” into everything.


I’m P fucking mupps,

Okay. That’s your name now, P fucking mupps?

He chuckles, he likes it when I sound incredulous


I feel fat, mupps, P says, I just bought 3 Hu chocolate bars and it was gone in not a lot of time, like a day and a half. I feel gross.

I have to say Mupps, I like it when sound like you have an eating disorder. You sound all embarrassed and self conscious..

Well I learned it form watching you.


That is true. I whine all the time about eating too much. And P has been eating a ton of Hu chocolate bars.


What I put inside her: ACV, lemon water, pint of almonds, some green smoothie I made, Lulu’s Midnight Velvet chocolate; a buttermilk biscuit with butter and jalapeno jam, friend okra, and halibut with mushrooms and beans at Town House with L


Saturday, August 25, 2018, 9:44pm

Berkeley – Moon Room


Dear You,

My goodness, there’s so much to tell you.

Maybe I’ll start with the very vivid dream I had last night.


I was at some place that felt like Tower Records but way more spare and museum-like with light blue gray walls. I was with my best friend M1, J, her ex-lover, my former slave R, and some other friends. I was getting tired and was gonna take off but R wanted to check out this exhibit/installation that was happening in the back corner of the store. It was called Xstasy. There were 3 people in line for it. There was no description for what it was, other than this cut out card they were passing out of a pointed skyscraper building with a women in a red coat running in front of it.

The card looked aesthetically pleasing (I’m gonna draw it in my journal right now, might be a good pervette bookmark) and the title was intriguing, so we waited in line. When we entered the room. In the middle was a console and there were giant guns (that looked real but weren’t) that the others (who were in line in front of us) picked up. Along the walls were video projections of women running across skyscraper buildings. The people with the guns started shooting at the running women. There was a gun on the console unclaimed that I could’ve picked up to just see what it feels like to play with it. But I didn’t feel like it. The people there were really getting into shooting the women, when we walked out of the installation area, there was a massive line, I think we started a trend by lining up.

Then there was some other video installation of a woman (or 2?). Their hands were tied together and they were laying on their stomach, legs spread. Someone hammered a giant 7inch plug in her ass. It looked like torture. There was a vagina that came out from under the plugged ass (the anatomy is getting all dimensionally distorted) and a plug was hammered into that orifice. It was gruesome. But we were observing it as if it was shock art.

J, M1’s ex, offered some comment that I can’t remember now, maybe it was about whether that was real or not of if it was consensual or not or if the tortured girls were into it or not. I remember his comment made me feel more uncertain about this “art.”

I got a ride with my friend, A (who in real life is my 6’8″ former lover now friend who was the body of a greek god). He was driving me and another friend of his back to the (dorm?). I remember thinking I should’ve got a ride with other friends that I came with because it was the car with the cooler kids.

When we got back to our room, we were chatting casually. An informal teacher was trying to show us some thing on A. A didm’t really know what was going on, none of us did. The teacher had one of A’s leg in some bondage strap and got a mallot and tapped his leg with it. A winced in pain. The teacher did it again casually as if to show us that he knows how to use this mallot thing like a pro.

And that’s how you use the (thingamajig) to bind people’s leg and keep them in place..

I looked at A’a leg, it was bound (frog style) in a rubber strap and purple. Then I looked again. His femur was sticking out. It looked like a chewed up drumstick.

We were all taken aback, but not freaking out. A was making a slight wincing sound like, man, why gotta do that? The teacher made a call for the nurse. The mood was still very casual despite the teacher’s demonstration gone terribly wrong.

Three Vietnamese smiley nurses in their 40’s arrive. At first they were going to but then didn’t want to give A the Tylenol painkiller because it was out of protocol. A was moaning. I pointed at leg with the bone sticking out, you have to give him a piankiller!  Ohhh.. and so they gave him the painkiller..

Then I realized this is insane. We don’t need school nurses, we need to get him to the ER. Where’s the teacher? Did he slip away??

I wanna yell at him, WTF is wrong with you?? I tried to remember, did A say it was okay for him to do this on him? I don’t think so..did he do this unconsensually???

It felt like I was the only one coming to my senses. Even A was acting way too casually, or saint-like, just accepting the pain and situation as if he wasn’t just fucked over by this sketchy guy who claimed to be a teacher.

The whole situation was absurdly insane, I reflected back on the shooting women installation, this is all about violence against the innocent. I must be in a fucked up dream…

And that’s when I woke up, really upset and spooked by the dream. It was still dark outside. My adrenaline was pumping, I was wide awake. I pressed my talking bird alarm clock, and the female robot voice in it said, “It is 5:44am.”


I tried to calm myself down by staring at Cutie. It was hard to see her in the dark. I just laid there, totally flummoxed by this crazy vivid torture dream. .


It is really weird how vivid this dream was and how I can remember its details more than any other dream I’ve had recently.


I think this dream goes into or just went into this vivid horror dream bank I have.


right next to the dream I had when I was 4

Where I was set up by my sister and got kidnapped from the lunchline by a couple in a limo

I was so terrified. And upset that my sister gave me a card to give to the couple, which I later realized was a card that read, It’s okay to kidnap me


and the other vivid dream I had was when I was 10

where I found a box of cereal jabbed with a knife in the supermarket aisle

I was so sad, I literally woke up with tears in my eyes and cried some more.

Yes I realized this sad dream was a bad pun about cereal killing.


Anyways, I was wide awake and couldn’t go back to sleep. I laid in bed looking at Cutie, after 20 minutes I was able to make out her panda face. The day was finally dawning.

I turned on the hot tub. I might as well take advantage of the morning light and do a b-roll video of me in the hot tub. I’ve been thinking about capturing that shot for the past year and a half.


So I set up the Canon 5D and I got the footage of me in the hot tub.

And then I continued with the rest of my day with the camera on and I captured myself:

Taking a shower

Putting products on my face

Doing Pushups and squats and lunges

Putting on a babydoll

Then I got wet and started touching myself and sniffing my scent on my fingers

(From the slipperyness of my juices, I can tell I was ovulating..)

I wrote out my morning pages

I meditated and chanted

I watered my trees

I was somehow really turned on (I’m not sure by what, the camera, my ass, or knowing that I can tease you with my body on camera). It was highly strange that I was super wet and turned because lately I’ve been in blissful monk mode. So I took advantage of it

And masturbated.

Then I

Did the dishes

Made some egg avocado tacos

Talked to my dad

Set up my Wyze security cam


Yep I got all of that on video.

I think I’m getting better with my DP skills.


Then when I got the security cam set up

I started recording footage from that cam

(which is the top featured image of the post)


I sent an email through Wyze to invite P to download the app and so he can see the live stream of me hanging out


An hour or so later, I can hear his voice coming from the security cam,

I can see you Mupps..!


It’s kinda really trippy.

It’s like he’s kinda in the room with me.

The camera can pan and tilt.

And we can sort of talk to each other.

He found it endearing that I hanging upside down on the aerial hoop naked while waving to him.


Around 4pm I went out to Piedmont and stopped in one of my new favorite shops, Neighbor, to pick up more refills for my new favorite notepad that I’ll be bringing with me to BM.

I asked the guy there who I met last time if he’s doing tarot readings, he said yep and I got to do a walk-in. He was cool with me filming it.

He asked me to think about what I want my reading on.

Pervette came to mind. I didn’t tell him that, of course.


And what he said felt so spot on it was crazy.


Then I went to Good Stock a few doors down and picked up the RMS un-coverup in 11 and 22 that they were holding for me. I also got a vanilla salt scrub (because that’s my current favorite scent) and a RMS Lip2Cheek in Modest (because they were out of Beloved, which was bright red)


I wasn’t super hungry, but I walked by Xyclo (my current favorite Vietnamese restaurant) and I needed to go pee so I decided, why not, I can order my vegan spring rolls, go pee, get dinner done with and get strait to work when I get back.


So that’s what I did.


On the drive back I noticed all the fraternities and sororities had signs of their activity schedule out and hanging from their windows. Must be rush week.


Came home. Tidied up a bit.

Said a prayer to Guan Yin.

Snacked a little more.

Wrote a reply to Memoir classmate.


Chatted with P over animojis and the security cam.

(His new thing is telling me to check on my phone over the security cam

So that I can see that he sent me an animoji text…)

Tinkered with the pages/posts on Pervette.

And now here I am

Writing to you.


I wish I had the energy to upload the videos I made today.

But I’ve been up since 5am and it’s 11:33pm


These videos will pave the way to the next levels of Pervette.


And I’m excited to jazz up these Dear You pages with cut out images and videos ..

There’s so much fun stuff to do and look forward to.


Today was a very fruitful and productive day.



Crazy how all I have to do is hit record and go about my day as I normally would and now my daily life is that more productive.


This is “my work” of a Lebenkunstler (I spelled that German word wrong).

It means life artist.


In case you don’t know where I’m going with all this recording I’m doing..

I’m planning on or going to make my life my art.



What I put inside me: ACV, lemon water, brain tea, some green smoothie, pistachios, 2 egg avocado tacos, Lulu’s chocolate dipped in pistachio butter, walnuts, Buddha Rolls at Xyclo, finished the rest of Lulu’s chocolate bar, more walnuts, brain tea, lemon water..










Back to the previous week 

Back to when you said yes