Erik and Laura-Marie Magazine

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Location: Las Vegas, Nevada, United States

Zine maker, peace activist, writer, reader, feminist. I like listening to good listeners. Email me at robotmad (gmail).

Friday, March 31, 2006


Greater than the massacring of bullocks is the sacrifice of self. He who offers up his evil desires will see the uselessness of slaughtering animals at the altar. Blood has no power to cleanse, but the giving up of harmful actions will make the heart whole. Better than worshiping gods is following the ways of goodness.

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

time #15


Pretty girls are a dime a dozen,
but super-intelligent, kind, loving girls
are rare as a pearl the size of a grapefruit,
rare as pink diamonds,
rare as a pure white dragon
who lets you ride him in the night.
What’s all this concern with outsides
anyway? Don’t let your eyes
give you a problem.
Let your ears hear real conversations.
All forms of entertainment
are a royal waste of time.


Although we’re passing through a tourist area,
we’re not tourists--
we’re moving from home to home.
The worker gave us a bad look
as we drove through tourist town.
We don’t need anything from the tee-shirt shop.
Hamburgers would kill our life.
I’m sorry the tourists treated you like crap
and left on Sunday.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

dogs #11

I don't know how to make this display big enough, but I think you can click on it and then make it full size in its new window.

Monday, March 27, 2006

Dear person behind me in yoga class. #25

I’m sorry
when I forward bend
you have to view
my huge butt.

I hope it reminds you
of the earth:
vast, curved,
and reliable.

Sunday, March 26, 2006

from tag #29

But kids argue about whether there was an actual tag. Do you have to feel the tag to be tagged? What if someone tags your hair? Sometimes a kid will lie. Sometimes a kid will get desperate and say that shoes don’t count. Or someone will invent a “safe” that was not agreed upon beforehand.

Sometimes I have been “safe,” which means kids would crash into me suddenly. My playground-watching days were brief, and I never decided to run from the kid who was running toward me as a safe. That would have been fun. But I liked being safe. I liked kids crashing into me.

Tag is probably common because chasing is a basic animal thing to do.

Saturday, March 25, 2006

from Intuition and Process #19

A dream cannot be crystalized into an opinion or moral. --Erik

Let your intuition say what it wants to say, then edit it later. --Laura-Marie

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

roses #25

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

spring #14

Overnight, the casino banner
has changed from WELCOME SKIERS

Monday, March 20, 2006

dreams #21

In my dreams, the things I‘m most scared of happen. It’s as if my sleep mind is trying to prepare me by rehearsing the worst.

I also dream variations on bad situations that happened in the past. For example, I often dream of being trapped in a relationship that I need to get out of, and I’m trying to find the strength.

Other dreams seem to come out of nowhere, like the ones where I’m in another country. Some are like vivid, strange movies. In real life, I don’t watch movies, so maybe my mind is trying to entertain itself.

The most reoccurring images / symbols in my dreams are water, hiking paths, toilets, cars, nudity, flying, gardens, babies, and smoking.

Usually, the water is dirty, full of biting bugs, or menacing in another way, like with huge waves or sharks. But I also remember beautiful whales.

The hiking paths are nice though sometimes daunting, like, “Do I really have to go that whole way?”

The toilets are filthy, and I need to find a clean one to use, and privacy.

Cars are going off the road or driving without a driver. I realize there’s no driver and panic. I’ve been having car dreams since I was very small.

Sometimes the nudity is fine, but usually it’s inappropriate and vulnerable. I ask myself, “Why did I think it was okay to go out without pants again? I need to remember to wear pants!”

When I fly in my dreams, I feel surprised, like, “Why didn’t I notice I could fly earlier?” Sometimes I’ll be jumping and realize I can fly, or I’ll be running and realize it.

The gardens in my dreams are usually gorgeous, and I need to water and tend them, or I forgot I had a garden, but when I go back, it’s beautiful and flourishing.

The babies always have something odd about them, like they talk even though they were just born, they turn into a cat, or they consist only of a head. I’m supposed to take care of them, but there’s some reason I can’t.

When I smoke in my dreams, I feel confused, like, “I thought I quit smoking.” Then I decide, “Oh yeah, it’s okay if I smoke just a little bit.” Sometimes I smoke two cigarettes at the same time.

When I was a teenager, I always dreamed that I was looking for something, on a quest. Usually I was with a group of people, and we were journeying through the forest. (This dreaming might have been influenced by the fantasy adventure novels I read at the time.)

Now I often dream that I left something behind. I need to go back and get it, but I’m not allowed back. I can sneak in, but what if I get caught? I’m going back for plants, books, clothes, or furniture that I left in our old house accidentally.

Saturday, March 18, 2006

happiness #7

Happiness is a myth created by the advertising industry.

Friday, March 17, 2006

marriage #9

A young woman who is the child of a miserable marriage will respond in one of two ways: either she will assure herself that her marriage will be different, a hope that is fulfilled about as often as the bank is broken at Monte Carlo; or she will avoid marriage, or conventionally acceptable marriage, altogether.
—Carolyn Heilbrun

Monday, March 13, 2006

the goose wants to eat a snail #8

The goose wants to eat a snail.
The snail wants to eat a leaf.
The leaf wants to eat the sun.
The sun wants to eat a person.
The person wants to eat a cucumber.
The cucumber wants to eat a mineral.
The mineral wants to eat a molecule.
The molecule wants to eat a scientist.
The scientist wants to eat a fire.
The fire wants to eat a log.
The log wants to eat a sound.
The sound wants to eat the ear.
The ear wants to eat the air.
The air wants to eat a snowflake.
The snowflake wants to eat a cavern.
The cavern wants to eat a bear.
The bear wants to eat some honey.
The honey wants to eat some pollen.
The pollen wants to eat a bug.
The bug wants to eat a leaf.
The leaf wants to eat the moon.
The moon wants to eat the water.
The water wants to eat the bridge.
The bridge wants to eat a horse.
The horse wants to eat an oat.
The oat wants to eat a powder.
The powder wants to eat an expanse.
The expanse wants to eat the eye.
The eye wants to eat a distance.
The distance wants to eat time.

Saturday, March 11, 2006

students #26

You have to become
an expert at letting go.

Students are in your dreams.
All kids start looking familiar,

and you could have loved
any one of them.

Did you forget me,
after all these years?

Some details fade,
but the feeling’s the same.

Monday, March 06, 2006


Let me answer
your question for you.
Jesus would give away everything.
He’d go to the bad part of town
and talk about God
with trans-sexual prostitutes.
He wouldn’t read sale papers.
He wouldn’t own a car.
He wouldn’t own anything.
So take off your special bracelet
and throw it on the ground.

Sunday, March 05, 2006

kid #12

I am healthy enough
to run circles around you,
as your butt gets bigger,
your back is hurting—

and I’m in a place
you cannot find me.
Other kids pull me,
and I leave home

until my entire day
is one long secret,
which hurts your
old, delicate feelings,

so used to control.
I don’t know how much
this hurts you
until you read my diary.

Friday, March 03, 2006

haunted playhouse #17

Try to understand
the Haunted Playhouse.

Smell the ketchup
on the bodies of naked dolls
hanging from the ceiling.

The only real danger here
is a spider in the dark.