:: scrapbook of a life ::

a different time

2005-12-25T13:24:00.000-04:00

so this is love. it was the first time he was really sure of anything in his life. maybe once there had been others, but not now. not since that boyhood innocence was lost. the innocence that still gleams in the eyes of a boy captured in his mothers picture frames. when did that happen? gradually he supposes.

looking at the memories of a time that won't let go, he feels that familiar tightness in his chest. a sadness that leaves lingering wishes of things being different. whatever that means. thinking back on it now, it was the raven colour of her hair that tugged at the heart strings of his eyes the most. he always fell in love head first with his eyes.

tossing the pictures aside, he stares into nothingness. his mind and body in seperate places, unable to agree on where to meet. his body constrained by physics, his mind restrained by a happier time. it wasn't as though this change had come in a singular epic moment as light courses through a light switch. it had been a gradual wearing and grinding down over time like the change of summer to fall where life bleeds red, orange and yellow on the ground. no, the weight of the world slowly suffocated him, squeezing the air from his lungs until it hurt to breathe. that was until she came along.

it was a typical early twenties something night filled full of debauchery, each with their respective choice of chemicals running through their veins. a chemical balance that was exponentially increased with their serendipitious meeting. conversing through shouts and body language, names were exchanged in the neon lit ballroom of modern dance. the relationship should have lasted only one night. but it survived the intoxication. it survived the kilometers of distance. it survived the time. and what was never thought as possible, or expected, became a new reality. a reality where soul meets body in want.

she's gone now. supposedly none of this matters anymore. how long has it been? time no longer seems to hold much meaning anymore. it marches forward full of indifference as his mind lags behind in the trailing duststorm of emotion that lays baren as the driest of deserts. if only it would rain.

and now all he feels like is sleeping.

snippets

2005-11-21T04:29:00.000-04:00

the country spring rain left the world smelling fresh and clean. in the city, things were different. so many people. living on top of and under each other. crowded masses searching for something they had yet to name. too many people. the rain would pour from the clouds for days, and it would still not be enough. the stench remained. that feeling of unclean like the showers in the tropics that left you covered in sweat as soon as you had finished drying off. it was inescapable. there was too much sorrow. too much heartbreak. all contained in this tiny area that was continually bursting at the seams. yet the seams held and took on more and more. more rain, more pain, more life. but nothing was cleaned. everything was left to soak in it's own fillth. a bathtub ring around the fringe of the city. the only place to escape was the mountains. they rose above the water line. the air smelled clean up there above the clouds infected by the dirt they had tried to wash away. slowly this is where people began to move. to travel. to escape. to be cleansed. only to return to where they had come. to once more be soiled as they wallow in the degeneration of things below. a band aid to hide the ugly pustering wound that never healed. growing red and pus filled because it wasn't rinsed under cold, clean water as soon as the heat of pain was felt. with no clean water, everything became infected. cynicsism lived in the wounds of despair and disappointment. nothing was clean. everything was dirty. scars, blisters and pustules were the record of time one lived here. like the rings in old oak trees showing their age. this is the city of decay.
------
she only came at night while i was sleeping. each time i was awoken by those soft sounds you hear when others attempt at quietness hushes and swooshes. before long, the kisses on my back were mixed with the tears caused by other men. she never crossed the line. only when i was drunk would i let those encouraging grunts and moans pass by my lips. each time we made love was a mistake.
---

god

2005-11-21T03:50:00.000-04:00

"god. what if he were one of us. just a stranger on a bus. trying to find his way home."

god. i always write without the capitalization. i am blasphemy. god is mythology. or so tells me a man who used to be a devout catholic until he was borne again thrice and in the end saw nothing before his eyes. god is jesus. god is dionesus. god is allah. god is buddha. god is zeus. god has too many names. too many faces. yet they all look the same to me. stories we tell ourselves so we have something to believe. faith. the lack of trust in ourselves leads to outside sources. but i am a god.

i am the god of ants. watch how they crawl. this a way. that a way. up my walls. across my desk. vast journeys in the name of life. drowning in my drinks. surviving of my crumbs. and each one that passes under my fingers is served a judgement. thumbs up=life. thumbs down=death. roman style. each choice a flip of the coin. so ambivalent. no indifferent. either way, and nothing changes. so where does that leave god?

but the winter is coming. the coldness keeps them hiding away. as my toes grow more numb, their numbers grow more few. and so my power dies. if humans didn't exist, what would god do? create again or slink away in defeat of a failed experiment? my ants are gone, yet i remain. i remember. remember to know they will return. and so too will my power. without them i am nothing. with them i am everything. the source of my power is the same as that which i have created. except i didn't create ants. but god did create humans. or so they say. and what does that say?
-----
mine. all mine. a world trapped inside my head. watch them toil. watch them thrive. but it is all so easily taken away. one swift kick and they are left with nothing but the memory of what was. one kick and their entire world, a small ant hill to me, is destroyed. but the memory drives. the memory is the key to survive. to remember what was. the key to rebuild. and over and over again that is what they will do. each time i destroy, they rebuild. it is an endless cycle that will outlast me and them both. neither one victorious in this stalemate chess match. for all the power i have, they will not succumb. many will die. but some will live. and i will die. and they will grow. until they have taken over this world trapped inside of my head. ants. i hate ants. they make me crazy.

a practice in dialogue

2005-09-25T13:13:00.000-03:00

-it wasn't supposed to be this way.
-then what way was it supposed to be?
-i don't know.
-then how do you know this isn't the way it was meant to be.
-a feeling.
-another vague, undefinable feeling i suppose?
-yah, i guess.
-and in circles we will run unless you can pin things down a little more concretly.
-that's like describing the undescribable.
-futile?
-yeah.
-then what's the point?
-that's like asking why are we talking. it doesn't lead anywhere.
-or does it?
-clever.
-thanks.
-i wasn't being serious.
-i know. but you're so damn easy to annoy when you're being melancholy.
-is that what i am?
-sometimes.
-then why do you stay?
-i said sometimes.
-still.. isn't that too much?
-it depends on who you're talking to
-i'm talking to you.
-and i'm still here aren't i?
-yeah, i suppose.
-exactly. so fuck off with the low self esteem.
-this won't end you know.
-what won't?
-this. us. our conversation. everthying just keeps going on and on ad infinimun. more gears in the great machine that trudges on day by day. nothing matters. not you. not me. not the little girl next door.
-what if she becomes president and begins an entirely new social system devoted to discovering the meaning of life? and when they do, conversations like this cease to exist because there are no questions left to ponder.
-shut up.
-you really should try on being happy sometime.
-i have. it doesn't fit.
-try a larger size. maybe you'll grow into it. y'know, like all those clothes your mother bought for you as a kid?
-it won't work.
-what won't?
-you. this. trying to cheer me up.
-someone has to.
-no, they don't.
-so what? you'll be lonely and miserable your entire life until you grow old and feeble dying in your bed at night?
-something like that. like i said, nothing matters in the end. it's all pointless.
-fine. be sad. be miserable in your self pitying pompous existentialism. i'm done. i'm tired and i obviously can't make you happy. i tried, but i can't. so fuck you. i can't do this anymore. bye.
-wait
-what?
-i love you.

relapse

2005-09-13T13:53:00.000-03:00

and the hair of every girl i see here reminds me of you..
but i can't go back..
let go..
and say goodbye
to something that never was
-J

random thoughts

2005-09-05T12:51:00.000-03:00

"Nor is there anything new, except the names and places, in most "news" about things going wrong. A child is abducted; there's a tornado; a ferry sinks; someone gets bitten by a shark; a small plane crashes. And what do you learn about the world from these stories? Absolutely nothing. They're outlying data points; what makes them gripping also makes them irrelevant."

no one saw it coming. a suprise for everyone without the party. the peace of night broken for a sharply brief instant. and so the darkness bled on, life sapping from its source and in need of a tourniquet. it wasn't until that time of day, when eyes first open and minds feel clear and foggy - *unsure of surroundings and knowing what the body yearns* - that the truth was discovered. having sat all alone and unfound, it had lost all previous names. "he" turns into "it" at that untraceable moment of where life meets death. is it sad a body sleeps alone for so long even after the life has left its vessel?
-J

tattoos for the future?

2005-08-23T23:57:00.000-03:00

back circles*ourobourous-infiniti signs/bonsai/night-day scene

four panel seasons

leg sleeve

angel and demons by dan brown - life/death

famous painting/sculpture

sketch effect of drawings

add chest stars

musical notes and bar

event marking occassions

foreva eva, foreva eva, FOREVA EVA

2005-08-23T01:18:00.000-03:00

i'm weeding these words from my vocabulary. never. ever. they represent eternity. is anything eternal? think of all the times you've used those words in context. such gross exaggerations. mostly useless, but sometimes promising all too much. i'll never leave you. i'll always love you. can one unabashedly say that? things change. time passes. people change. we want to mean those words. they hold truth when said. but they begin to whither as soon as the air passes between our lips. the breath that gave them life slowly fades into oblivion. minds and tongues make promises the heart and body cannot keep.

september is the new new year. it has been this way for 23 years. and will continue to be for many more. the beginning of a new life. a new adventure. back to school. new job. new location. it is september that has brought me change. strife and turmoil, education and experience. this year is no different. in less than a week i'll have left the place i used to call home. home is now a house, but that is neither here nor there. i haven't even begun to think about what is to come. what is the sense. it will show up when it chooses and i have nothing to do with those matters. time marches on. and so i look to the now to see what it brings. all i ask is things remain unchanged until i depart. normality is key so i remember things the way they used to be.

"Nothing impresses solitude more forcefully upon you than the night"

is this not true? is this not the time you wish for an empty bed to become full? the time to talk and reveal your depths. to hold on to something as if to never let go. in the dark you lower guards. the sleep lets others in. with defenses down, worlds that were never known can be explored. reach out. connect. anything but feel alone and lost. wish upon a star. pray to your god. cry into exhaustion. lose yourself in the patterns of the ceiling. drink until numb. pass out mindlessly watching television. are these not the activities we distract ourselves before the new day arrives to wash away the despair of the night. until the sun kills the moon. i find comfort in the darkness. it wraps itself around me like a familiar blanket. the one you were brought home in the day you were born. comfort. soothe. it is now that words find their way to my fingers. whether key or ink, the mediums pass messages to whoever is listening. notes in classes you hope the teacher does not see exchanged. these are my notes. here are my eulogies. a mark in space left indefintely. and all we want is a warm body to keep us company at night.

*the world, is it the ocean or the sky, does it drown us or set us free?*
-J

god may forgive me but i whip myself in scorn, scorn

2005-08-21T14:47:00.000-03:00

*there's a hole in the trust that we made
mapped out in my bed for
6 long months*

and now i don't know how to look at you anymore. a realization of things done and said that can never be taken back. the people who know us best are the ones to fear, they leave us little room to hide by reflecting everything we are back into our own eyes. so easy to ignore and move on to self preserve and survive the image we hold of ourselves. cracked. a broken mirror with 7 years of bad luck. our own worst critic. you may forgive, but to forgive myself is hardest of all. the desire to not sleep in an empty bed is strongest of all. i'll take that pain i finally understand and carry it with me as my own. to ease your burden. for my penance.

*and the tears come streaming down your face
when you lose something you can't replace
when you love someone but it goes to waste
could it be worse?
lights will guide you home
and ignite your bones
and i will try to fix you*

but i can't fix this
-J

quote

2005-08-15T16:52:00.000-03:00

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. Our playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine as children do. It's not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own lights shine, we unconsciously give others permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

good shit
-J

rollercoasters at night

2005-08-13T02:16:00.000-03:00

i'm on an up right now.. up and down we go, where we stop no one knows.. i will fall back toward the ground at some point, gravity always has her way with me.. but in the end things seem to balance out for me.. one extreme to the next leaves a nice plane of mediation..

i wrote my eulogy for another relationship.. the mourning has passed and all those memories have been tucked away in the shoebox of romance into the closet of my mind.. acceptance now stands and i'm free to move on

my plane ticket arrived.. i'll be leaving canada on the 29th.. i don't konw how many days from now that is, one day bleds into the next.. the good times have been good while i've been home.. the biggest problem is getting out of the house into the social spectrum.. summer days run long and i only escape in the night..

i'm going to miss people more than i thought.. as much as my mind continually focuses itself on random girls who i superficially fall in love with, i sometimes miss the things that remain by my side.. we do take things fro granted if we expect them to always be there waiting.. the boys, the girls, moncton.. 'we are good friends, look at us sharing this special moment'... goobyes have been said.. many more to come.. a surprise goodbye party thrown to success.. i was surprised.. i'm broke and surviving on the visa right now.. looking to go out with a bang.. hold on for now until the adventure of life begins..
-J

p.s. remember that time a 70-some year old man went to prison...

stream of consciousness

2005-08-03T23:54:00.000-03:00

silence..no, no.. better yet, a lack of sound.. that sounds better.. it's more about the emptiness in the air rather than the fullness of quiet.. as though something is missing.. that's how it feels when you're left with only thoughts shouting over one another in your head.. debates that go back and forth before they realize that they're only going in circles and have arrived back to where they began, ceasing at once due to the futileness of going nowhere.. to go nowhere, to go somewhere.. god is nowhere, go is now here.. i like that quote.. clever.. what is god? me, you, a rock, the air, hindu buddhist, christian.. erase.. censor.. why don't i let myself write the things that plague my mind? my mind is full of concerns and questions right now.. but i've tried to have them answered.. i'm still waiting.. i suppose that is the benefit to closure.. we like closure don't we? to konw that something is done and over.. we can move on.. moving on.. looking to the future.. a constant endeavour.. keeps our mind busy.. full of sound.. what do i have to do today? what are my tasks? got to keep moving.. keep busy.. too many things to do.. if i sit, there will be silence.. with silence comes my mind.. too unproductive.. wastes time and energy.. not efficient.. can't have that.. work, buy, consume.. repeat.. keep the machine running.. a machine that feeds on itself to stay alive.. that's what i call a vicsious cycle.. ourobourous, the snake that eats it's own tail.. same imagery, different story.. life is cyclical, not necessary viscious.. how the hell do you spell that word? viscious, vicsious, visious, vicious.. vicous, vivant, devant, lament, ferment.. beer.. drunk.. distraction.. t.v... waste of time.. wasting more time.. must be productive.. bedtime stories of the ghost in the machine.. he'll haunt you if you are not producing.. under pressure, de de duh.. dun dun dun de da.. under pressure.. david bowie.. music.. fill the silence.. until it can hold no more.. there isn't room for anything but the music.. it takes over.. it owns the space.. it's big.. you can't think.. only feel.. it owns you.. let go.. done
-J

i used to smile in photos

2005-08-01T21:05:00.000-03:00

i was looking at the memories on the walls the other day.. images capturing moments of time, locking them into a coloured box until they too grew too old to remember and turned back to dust.. as i looked upon these photos, i noticed the affects of time... i used to smile in photos.. i don't remember when, but the truth lay before my eyes as i peered into a face i no longer recognize as my own.. it was the face of happiness and innocence.. and from that point i don't recall, the life in his eyes disappeared.. killed along the road of life, never to be reborn.. and so now, when i think of the last time i have been happy, i can now be sure that it is no lie to myself that i should not be able to remember when that last time should be..

golding believed man is innately evil.. it's all there in black and white in lord of the flies.. outside of societies structure, we become feral and viscious with no regard to morals.. for me this is the view of a man who has given up on hope.. which is not hard for me to understand given the lives and conditions that would have been lead during the writing of this book.. WW1, nuf said?

now, as children, sons, daughters, fathers, mothers and grandparents die alongside each other, we sit and watch.. those who die are only pawns in the chessmatch of power played by those with power.. sitting in their ivory towers, our kings view the battlefield from a distance deciding what strategies to use to acheive goals us peasants have no clear concept of.. but kings were made by gods, so it is not us who have the power to understand.. this is convuluted.. i'll continue anyway..

all of this anger, this frustration, this sadness comes from within.. from this feeling of things not being the way they should be.. laying in the dark, searching for answers to questions i don't even have, i can only mumble a single phrase in repeat.. this is not how things were meant to be.. a world in chaos and misaligned priorities.. a numbing of sensation by a generation through alcohol, drugs, sex, t.v... i have joined this party.. so i have no judgement to make.. is it this youthful spirit of mine that drags me down.. with wishes to change the world, to have reality match the way i see life in my rose coloured glasses... is it when i finally admit defeat and give up that i'll be finally happy? a beautiful struggle..

follow me on an analogy..
there was a sense of empathetic relief when the life of that cat left the body behind.. seeing the car ahead move forward as the feline made an intersecting path.. life is life.. and as the body behind twisted and contorted in varying sickingly ways, there was struggle to not leave breath and instinct behind.. it was a struggle.. but the peace of letting go, seeing the relaxed tension of the body laying on the road as i watched out the back window, leaves me wondering if it was all worth it..

why fight for lives we don't live when peace truly comes to us in death when we are finally forced to let go? is that the true meaning of life? to understand that life is nothing and death everything? but with an inbreed sense of fear and struggle against the undeniable, we search for ways to live longer, easier, in more luxury.. while we take none of these things to our grave.. and faced with our mortality, we cry in the dark and plead for one more day as we contort and twist in varyingly sickinlgly ways until the admission that our lives do not belong to us is met.. stories of fire and brimstone keep us at bay.. dreams of finished business, as we live in anti carpe diem styles, keep us going.. this carthesis tires me.. i'm done for now..
-J

p.s. being self aware, i know these thoughts only appear out of a mourning for an illusion of intimacy and comfort i let mysef believe to be true..
JVR

crashing waves

2005-07-31T23:28:00.000-03:00

21 days since my last post... somedays i simply lose interest in it all

i'm back home for a few weeks.. you can never really come home.. home is a place you grew up and it felt familiar like those jeans you've worn for years.. home is where you make it.. but this is nothing but transition.. a limbo state that doesn't let me put my feet down to take off my shoes and stay awhile.. even though i don't fit in here anyway.. if i won the lottery i would buy and island and bring all those people i've ever liked/connected with and we would have ourselves one big commune.. but not like those poor hippies, because i'd be rich..

being home for 2 weeks makes me feel as though i've regressed 5yrs.. one step forward, a hundred steps back.. a black hole that is hard to escape from the pull of the past.. the way things used to be.. the way things should have been.. i'm hard to love and a loner.. i know it so you don't have to remind me.. somedays i wonder what the point of it all is..

since i've been home i've drank, ate, chilled, and sat in the sun.. most call that vacation.. i feel like a sloth.. i've been stimulated mentally a handful of times.. left to stare into the depths of tv land and feel my brain grow sluggish and unused all the while.. conversation, not small talk, pleases me.. i don't know where this is going..

3 weeks left.. then i'm gone.. vanished.. invisible except to memory.. i'm so fucking scared.. 2 years without familiarity.. left to do it all on my own.. no xmas and turkey dinner when family actually felt like family.. starting all over again.. there will be no going away parties.. i'll simply wake up to leave without saying goodbye..

lately i wake up wondering where i am..
where do we go from here?

goodnight
-J

2005-07-10T16:53:00.000-03:00

I can't take my eyes off of you...

A moment in time...

These moments swirl around us, passing and flashing through the air everyday of our lives. They make up life, yet go unnoticed. Remember chasing butterflies in open fields, or fireflies in dark woods? Grab onto them and put them into your memory bottles - don't forget the airholes.

I can't take my eyes off of you

Looks and smiles passed between me and you. Two strangers, who are still strangers, become slightly more familiar. A split second decision. Without thought, with no sense of apprehension, his hand reaches for hers before he even knows it himself. He could not explain to this day how he knew to create the motor movements necessary in that small interval of time. Grasping onto her hand, gently as we did those butterflies caught in our nets, he already knows he never wants to let go. It's that feeling of "having". No words can explain it more fully. The certain kind of knowledge one attains in those rare moments of life; gut instinct some would say. A belief, a faith in something so strong that it cannot be otherwise. Undeniable.

I can't take my eyes off of you

"What's your name?". A silly but necessary question. A question that once answered somehow brings a sense of fulfillment. The way her name rolls off of the twists and twirls of her own tongue send waves of harmony to his ear. He hasn't let go. With labels to call one another, two strangers have become two familiar faces that can send knowing smiles across a crowded room; a secret shared between only them. And as she walks away, with hand letting go of hand and finger sliding across finger until there is nothing left but space, he has fallen. From stranger to lover in a flash of a fireflies' tail.

A moment in time...

I can't take my mind off of you...

grammy

2005-07-09T21:28:00.000-03:00

i was reminded of my grandmother today. it's interesting how the most unresolved issues in our heads come barreling back to the front of our lobes every chance they get. how long has it been? 3 years? i've never been good with dates. i remember the phone call. i remember the news. i remember the last time i saw her in her sickbed. i remember sitting on that friends' kitchen floor. i remember going home to get ready for the drive home in the morning. i remember the conversation that had nothing to do with my grandmother but was distraction from reality and testament to my selfishness. i remember the funeral...

i had a mask on that day. i had on the mask of someone who was supposed to be in mourning. i stood like someone i thought someone in mourning would. this was my first time. i didn't know how i was supposed to act. i shook hands of people i'd never met before. and all the while, i tried to understand how i was supposed to feel, when in reality, all i felt was nothing... but this numbness inside, one that had been haunting me since the conversion from innocence and flares up and again even today like re-occuring cold sores.

i remember wanting to feel sad. i remember trying as hard as i possibly could to muster up some sorrow from the well of emotion locked inside. but nothing came. i remember the eulogies. i remember sitting in the middle rows of chairs not really listening to anything anyone was saying. the thing i remember the most is that tossed kleenex that lay on the floor next to my feet. it was that simple piece of tissue that got me through the day. it was my focus. the way it was folded and shaped from use, reminded me of those angels we used to put on top of our christmas tree.. with the wings, robe and halo... i can still see it now, unmoving. i remember wondering why i couldn't cry when i did so freely a few years ago at the death of my dog. maybe that was out of guilt more than anything. i remember seeing someone break down as they said their words of farewell... this made me feel more than anything else. and as my chest tightnened and those heaves of sobs made their way to my nostrils and tear ducts, i remember holding it all inside.. pushing it away and focusing on nothing but that angel at my feet. why do we stop ourselves from crying when that's what we've wanted to do all along? let go dammit. but i haven't. i won't. i never do. the rest is mostly a blur. people came and went. i moved here and there. i remember holding my mothers arm, hoping more than anything, that she'd be okay. but the thing i'll always remember most, is that white piece of tissue laying on the floor.

-J

random shit

2005-07-01T23:12:00.000-03:00

funny
informative - check out the video
more coverage - anytime pink floyd reunites, you know it's a big deal..

and that is all

-J

a conversation

2005-06-28T20:27:00.000-03:00

trying something. i suck at dialogue.
------

"i wish i could cut off my emotions like you" she said.

is that true? do i do that? can i do that? do i no longer feel anything beyond the descriptions i give in words?

"i just don't show what i feel". part of me doesn't even believe myself.

an empty line. that deafening sound of silence. a space, that might as well be the grand canyon, exists between us now.

it's the sound of tears rolling down her cheeks.

"don't cry". fuck, now what do i say? i'll just listen. i should hang up. say goodbye. tell her you have to go. anything.

"c'mon, we can still be friends". can we? shit. why did i say that?

"r-r-r-eally?". her words come out between sobs now.

"sure. why couldn't we?". because we've slept together. because you've only ever been the girlfriend.

"i - i - i don't know...". the indecision betrays her. hesitantcy kills you know.

"of course we could. you know i still care about you right?". don't i? what is this? obligation. no. it's more like... guilt. that self sentenced feeling of responsibility. if only i had the balls to say what i really wanted.

you fucking hurt me. i'm pissed at myself for letting you. and all those words i said, were just that... words... they don't mean a damn thing so stop telling me what i used to say. fuck off and leave me alone!!!

"i guess".

"you know i do.. right?". am i convincing her or myself? is there a difference?

"ya". both of buy into a lie neither of us wants to admit.

"good". time to get out of this.
"how bout i call you next week? we'll hang out, catch up." hurry up. run. run. faster.

"um.. ok.. sure". disoriented. defenceless.

"k, deal. have a goodnight". please don't say anything else.

silence.........shit. shit. shit. shit.

"bye". thank you thank you thank you thank you than...."click".

disconnected. the last sound we hear before the voices in our head start talking all at once.
-----

a familiar conversation most of us have had i'm sure.. comments on style requested.. i'm still learning.

-J

dreams

2005-06-27T23:02:00.000-03:00

freud wrote in "interpretation of dreams" that much of which exists in our unconscious shows itself in our dreams.. the things we fear.. the things we desire.. if this is true, then maybe i have something to worry about.. today, after having two consecutive naps, i awoke both times in a worried state.. the dreams i remember, the ones i wake up from, often have to do with me running away or disappointing someone.. including myself.. i was once told that when i sleep, i don't have that peaceful look of slumber on my face, but one of extreme distress.. does this translate into waking life of how hard i am on myself.. how much i strive for the perfection i perceive? even when i'm asleep i cannot escape the worries that plague my mind day to day.. so even if freud may have had an over emphasis on sex and his psychosexual development, his influence on the work of the unconscious still resonates today.. maybe i have something to learn from all of this symbology......

-J

2005-06-21T22:23:00.001-03:00

subway rides at night

2005-06-21T22:23:00.000-03:00

blurry hallways and kisses

2005-06-21T22:22:00.002-03:00

lunchtime

2005-06-21T22:22:00.001-03:00

boredom in airports

2005-06-21T22:22:00.000-03:00

elevator go down

toronto - a vacation from reality

2005-06-21T21:34:00.000-03:00

plane, subway and cab rides. hellos. street meat. younge and wellesley. 3rd kiss. fire alarm evacuated buildings. drinking wine in public. getting kicked out of dundas square. smoothies. 5hr walks. holding hands. queen st. and chinatown. give a hoot, don't pollute. GORGEOUS. strip clubs. live shows. MMVA's. movies and popcorn. indian food. shangri la and black window metal. street cars named desire. listening to music. laying on hardwood floors. staying awake all night. frozen moments. scientology. stress tests and diamentrics. mario. afternoon naps. reading books head to chest. used book stores. jack of spades. benches hidden in trees. purple flowers and pools made for skinny dipping. elephants as good luck (they don't forget). staying in bed all day. pancakes. forts of pillows and blankets. wintersleep. mcdonalds. hickeys and dogs in a park. 1000th kiss. limo driver strikes and confusing hour walks to terminals. comfort. excitement. conversation. laughter. goodbyes.

how do we leave behind something we've been looking for?
-J

jackson acquited

2005-06-13T22:02:00.000-03:00

yep.. it's all over the news.. every other channel from inside entertainment to cnn to even the usually trusty cbc.. who cares? it's OJ all over again without the white bronco and exciting car chase.. how come i'm bombarded everywhere with the smallest of details and intricacies of what he did or didn't do at his neverland ranch.. i have to go find information about the current geo political climate.. US casualties now number over 1700.. wars in sudan, iraq, afghanistan (yep, they're still there)... aids and poverty in africa.. north korea and nukes.. communist china drafting the city populace to grow crops with farmers to avoid starvation.. etc..so much more i don't know about because it isn't televised on mainstream media.. why? because we don't want to see it.. it isn't glorified.. it isn't juicy.. we'd rather have it all stay out of sight out of mind.. it all comes back to us getting exactly what we want.. and this is what we want? these are the things we concern ourselves about? these are the ideas and concepts that fill our minds? god damn (and i use the blasphemy on purpose) if our priorities aren't fucked.. mine included.. no soap box for me today.. now excuse me while i go back to my "reality" tv.. trading spouses, hells kitchen, temptation island, the bacholor and bacholorette.. great stuff (yes i notice the irony)

-J

ghost in the machine

2005-06-10T19:40:00.000-03:00

i suppose i should talk about mind vs brain considering that's what my title refers to.. but i'll just forget about that for now.. not feeling too philosophical.. just a few things i rememberd to jot down..

well, it's friday night and my weekend is just about done.. i have an odd work schedule.. mon-wed.. which leaves me two days off to myself before i head back to the grind on saturday.. hence, thursday and friday are my weekend.. sunday still remains the day of rest.. it's odd having your week-end in the middle of the week.. everyone else is working, so it's a little solitary at times.. leaving other friends at either school or work.. so i try to fill in these units of time best i can - 48hrs can feel like a long time at times.. especially when you've lost your ability to sleep in.. i think it has to do with the sun raising earlier, waking up the molecules in my body as the rays of sun creep into my room through the slates of my blinds.. lately i've been waking up in a startled fashion.. as though something has happened when nothing has happened at all.. left in a daze, a fog, with the feeling of something having to be done in that instant.. much like the flight or fight one might endure when realizing someone was breaking into their home late at night.. but soon enough i gain my bearings and head back for a few hours more of sleep.. my dream cycle must work in 1hr segments, because i find myself waking up most often on the hour of sleep.. maybe i'm confused of where i am because i'm no longer supposed to be where i am..

but back to the days off of work.. i went to a movie today.. they're good for utilizing a few of those units of time.. most people think it odd to go the movies alone.. but for me it makes even more sense.. you don't talk to anyone while in the movie.. you get to see what you want.. and you don't have the feeling of obligation to be hospitable.. so i tried the friday matinee slot, whilst still holding out for that one time when i'll be the only one in the theatre.. i got close today.. it was me and the seniors.. which only reminds me of how i'm already an old person in so many characteristics.. seth cohen i am, as sad as it may be for me to relate myself to a fictional character.. so it was me, two ladies joined by the hip, an older couple, and another solitary man.. i was that old man - differences being tattoos, unshaven face, and surfer shorts.. i had all of these of course.. he wore the uniform of retirement with a baseball cap hiding his white hair, creased khakis, a polo shirt and velcro shoes.. because do you still want to tie your shoes when you get that old? not that i do as it is.. oh, and the movie? cinderella man.. it was what is was - another bio, directed by ron howard, starring russell crow.. entertaining but don't get your hopes up for any revelations...

-J

impressed

2005-06-10T11:32:00.000-03:00

from the tonight show with jay leno.. didn't think we'd see this on national t.v. anymore.. this is the performance bright eyes brought to the stage.. at least someone still has some balls.. though i'm sure this never ACTUALLY aired.. still.. oh well, here are the lyrics..

When the president talks to God
Are the conversations brief or long?
Does he ask to rape our women's rights
And send poor farm kids off to die?
Does God suggest an oil hike
When the president talks to God?

When the president talks to God
Are the consonants all hard or soft?
Is he resolute all down the line?
Is every issue black or white?
Does what God say ever change his mind
When the president talks to God?

When the president talks to God
Does he fake that drawl or merely nod?
Agree which convicts should be killed?
Where prisons should be built and filled?
Which voter fraud must be concealed
When the president talks to God?

When the president talks to God
I wonder which one plays the better cop
We should find some jobs. the ghetto's broke
No, they're lazy, George, I say we don't
Just give 'em more liquor stores and dirty coke
That's what God recommends

When the president talks to God
Do they drink near beer and go play golf
While they pick which countries to invade
Which Muslim souls still can be saved?
I guess god just calls a spade a spade
When the president talks to God

When the president talks to God
Does he ever think that maybe he's not?
That that voice is just inside his head
When he kneels next to the presidential bed
Does he ever smell his own bullshit
When the president talks to God?

I doubt it

I doubt it

-J

2005-06-09T15:47:00.000-03:00

view 3 - all for a charity fundraiser for the disabilities foundation and easter seals.. the man i work for is scared of heights, i took his place.. ohhhh the connections one gains working at a coffee shop

2005-06-09T15:45:00.001-03:00

view 2 - all 275ft/ 22 storys of it

2005-06-09T15:45:00.000-03:00

2005-06-09T15:43:00.000-03:00

that's the building.. good ol 1801 hollis st in downtown halifax

short update

2005-06-09T15:34:00.000-03:00

ya, so i don't really write about my day to day existence.. well, because, for the most part, there isn't much to say.. work, sleep and eat is the tale of halifax.. only a few more months before i have stories to tell.. unless summer actually shows up and brings some good clean fun in the sun.. but stories i do have are as such...

jumped off a building.. it was fun.. pictures to follow

toronto and jasmine await.. along with:
-jay's game
-strip club
-piercings
-rooftop access
-grilled cheese and wine
-patio bbq's
-montreal bagels and fruit
-mcdonalds bfast after an all night bender
-crosswords in bed while drinking tea
-etc...

boston and cali are still a go.. no matter what anyone else does.. maybe i'll just steal a garden gnome and take him along for the company.. it'll be like that matthew good band video.. the future IS x-rated..

-J

circa Feb 2005

2005-06-09T15:18:00.000-03:00

old stuff that was put in the scrapbook of thoughts during fits of feelings
--------------
a necessary consideration
understanding in a car crash
my shoulders are sore
from carrying the weight of both of us

this infectious aura
defeats my immune system
leaving me sick and tired
and dreaming of sleep when i'm awake

no shelter to call my own
the rain pours in
drowning me in sorrows
that aren't mine...

if only i had something to call my own

there's beauty in the breakdown
but i've yet to learn to let go

--------------

a rapid pace i grow - leaving behind those i knew because they only remind me of what i was, not of what i am,what i want to be.

-------

hearts that grow on trees
waiting to be picked
some before they're ripe
others fall to the ground and rot

grounded by roots
fed by water and sun
infested by worms
the cancer spreads

------

the tragic characters in my stories are always women.. don't ask me why. plagued by the disease of sadness, the uncurable cancer of our generation. tears in her eyes are never shed and reflect back as do the swimming pools in heat of summer. a cello plays melancholy chords in the soundtrack of life. capable of such great heights, yet too scared of the fall. life is a risk and a gamble, but what do you do when the house always wins?

------

drunken stupor:
what am i doing? locking myself in my own prison.. sheltering my existence from the world outside.. safe and protrected from life, left with no life to live. scared. scared of what? or am i simply lazy and a pretentious self centered fuck? i have the best advice to give to others and save none to give to myself after all my wisdom is dispensed like blood and guts after the gun is fired - blowing a hole in my head, my theories mean nothing at all. hours spent wasting away - time is molded into manageable units that can be spent like tokens at the carnival, only these carnies are much more scary - the demons and angels of my own mind scream out for night and day and both are shut out when i close the curtain of my mind and hide in the cold indifferent recesses of my cave to spend it all alone - frustrated by my own failure - i am my own worst enemy and the only thing that stands in the way of attaining what i want - yet without risk and chance there can be no failure or rejection..

-J

"good blogging is about not giving a shit about what anyone thinks , it’s just about doing what you do"

2005-06-09T13:29:00.000-03:00

so medicare? out the door? maybe.. first ruling came down in quebec.. it says that people cannot be disallowed from purchasing health insurance from private companies that cover many of the same things medicare does already.. so what does this mean? a few things... arguments are coming from all sides at this point, as usual.. but this is how i see it.. i realize that wait times are ridiculous as hospitals have a harder and harder time keeping up, especially in more rural, less monetarily (is that a word? is now) supported areas.. but is this the way to do it? basically those with money can skip to the head of the line by going to a private insurance company.. aka the rich live and the poor wait to die.. (this is an over-exageration mind you - but maybe not so in the future - all about the baby steps) reminds me of the US and their HMO's.. i understand that medicare needs help, but is this the way to go? i thought medicare, FREE HEALTHCARE, was one of the things that helped give us our canadian socialist identity.. this disturbs me..

i wish it were possible to really keep tabs on people with power.. say one thing this year, another thing the next.. no one really pays that close attention to detail to pick up on the discrepencies.. bush recently stated that global warming needs to be more closely inspected before goals and decisions are made.. he said the same thing in an interview in 2000.. i guess we haven't learned much in 5years eh bush?.. but i guess the stem cell research really florished in order for you to make admendments on that one.. this is just an example.. every person in power does this same thing.. but we don't keep track.. we forget what was said as soon as it was said.. so this all harkens back to what i said about walmart.. aren't they giving us exactly what we want? if you want to complain, go right ahead, but take some damn responsibility at the same time.. meanwhile i'm trying to just figure out my own life in this maelstorm we live in.. it's funny how we're so concerned with the end of the world.. hasn't every generation been fearful of the world ending.. the first world war, the second world war.. the cold war.. countless other events.. hurricanes, tornadoes and tsunamis may appear commonplace now, but i'm sure they were hella more scary back in the middle ages.. "oh shit, look at all that water... that's one big f-in wave.. i guess it's the end of the world"... i don't discard the idea that we might soon enough blow ourselves up.. i'm just saying this isn't anything new.. check out ismael by dan quinn.. it's an alternative path at least..

shit.. THIS (aka, click on it for link) was intense.. reminds me of myself in certain ways.. fuck, that was well written.. nice suspense.. and so many ideas.. i wonder if i sound like that when i write.. sometimes this guy annoys me with the tone, but it reminds me of myself all the same.. hmmm

a grandfather in jail again
a mother who can't sleep
a funeral i didn't know about
an aunt with a burned out apartment
old friends i ignore
new friends i refuse to make
apparently i don't care
i'm still sober
i'm still content
don't break my bubble

cuz everyone likes BUNNIES
the shining style...

get some shit off your chest and not worry about it.. boxed thoughts..most of them scream boredom, depression and facimiles of love.. is that what the lives we are living are all about?

super-happy thought of the day.. day 1:
"Being super-happy shouldn’t be a goal. Being super-happy is an excuse to believe in something that acts to distract you from yourself and your involvement in your surroundings. Being super-happy relies on the belief that you need to acquire wealth or fame or power to be something deemed ‘worth while’. Having spent the majority of my life poor I can honestly say that money does not make one happy. Family does, friends do, love does. So don’t waste a single second denying yourself true happiness, because it’s most likely staring you in the face. Life it too short to hate, to be divisive, or to defend that which denies others the chance to be truly happy on their own terms. I believe that true happiness is discovered in the realization that you are far more whole when outside of the construct of what many perceive as happiness. And only after you begin to walk towards that realization can you truly act to counter the negativity that bombards us on a daily basis." - Matt Good

-J

the most versatile word

2005-05-28T18:58:00.000-03:00

excerpt from "i am charlotte simmons" by tom wolfe

"in Fuck Patois, the word fuck was used as in interjection ("what the fuck" of plain "fuck," with or without an exclamation point) expressing unhappy surprise; as a participial adjective ("fucking guy", "fucking tree," "fucking elbows") expressing disparagement or discontent; as an adverb modifying and intensifying an adjective ("pretty fucking obvious") or a verb ("I'm gonna fucking kick his ass"); as a noun ("that stupid fuck,: "don't give a a good fuck"); as a verb meaning go away ("fuck off"), beat - physically, financially, or politically ("really fucked him over") or beaten ("i'm fucked"), botch ("really fucked that up"), drunk ("you are so fucked up"); as an imperative expressing contempt ("fuck you," "fuck that"). rarely - the usage had become somewhat archaic - but every now and then it referred to sexual intercourse ("he fucked her on the carpet in front of the TV").

for all those who went to university, i'm sure you've all heard the "fuck" song that follows this same sort of process of breaking down the various uses of the word.. and this is why it's my favourite curse word.. and don't forget the name calling when used in conjection with other derogatory comments such as bitches ("fucking bitches"), face ("fuck face") mother and so on...

-J

sins must litter the ground for a rain like this to exist - wash it clean

2005-05-27T23:18:00.000-03:00

a single drop. that is how it began. rising thermals and swirling air currents brought darkened skies all over. hovering above the skyscape is where these clouds of night remained; perched as they grew and swelled - bulging at the seams as a man, who has paid for his meal, forces the final bites down his gullet. and as these obese forms floated listlessly, the feeling of a warm sun was forgotten by all these people on the ground. living this way and that, some lived with ambition, others lived without; the rest with the feeling of something lossed - as when a man knows there is something needing to be done, but the thought hides in the back of his mind. and as days passed, questions about whether the sun had ever existed arose. had it been their imagination? no one could remember. no omen was interpreted. no panic for the end of the world was uttered. life was lived, for that is what's done.

then it happened. a single drop, high above in the stratosphere, made the way to the edge of its existence to find that something beyond remained. as this pioneer dove into an exciting new world below, other molecules took notice and followed with the mentality of lemmings - for the chance of freedom acheived is something we're all willing to die for. one by one, plunges were taken into that dry bowl of dust - impacting as craters do when life begins in violent chemical reactions. soon enough the air was saturated with the wetness of these tiny explosions. people began to wonder if that feeling of being dry was true or false. but life was lived, for that is what's done. enough of these drops began to fall in scattered unison and with a drumbeat of tempo that the shower beget rain; rain beget downpour and downpour beget flood until the roar was all that could be heard. if only they had heard. and people wondered if that feeling of breath in their lungs had been an illusion. But life was lived, for that is what's done.
----------
ya so this took about half an hour.. many gaps and spaces remain and my syntaxt and tense is fucked.. it is what it is..

-J

from ishmael

2005-05-22T22:50:00.000-03:00

an analogy is drawn.

our story is that of a prison ward. none of us are wardens, all of us prisoners. a caste system exists and thrives. rich naturally get richer as the poor become poorer for power is the ultimate currency. the wealthy live luxuriously with sex, drugs and whatever else they desire. the poor only dream of these same favours. yet, in the end, they are all prisoners with no hope for parol.

this is the same story as our taker existence. except we hold ourselves captive in continually enacting a story that can only lead to our own destruction. our belief of control is a false illusion, and unless that control becomes complete, this path has an end; for we live outside the lines that bind. the agricultural revolution was the beginning of the end (says dan quinn, author of "ishmael") for that is when we attempted to take life into our own hands, rather than living in the hands of the gods as every other being on earth knows enough to do. we are the trailblazers and expeditioners for everything to come. back to the path of the leavers is the only way home. that is the only hope we have of being parolled.

p.s. watch "a love song for bobby long" - best movie i've seen in recent months

part 2

2005-05-22T22:29:00.000-03:00

didn't want to delete all the work by mistake, so i'll do these in pieces...
----------
walking down city streets is always a curious event for me. scratch that. walking down city streets alone is always a curious event for me. when you're with someone else, caught up in conversation, you don't have the same time to observe and take notice of that which catches the eye in the more solitary version of this activity requiring feet placed in front of feet. and so i walk, closing out the city sounds with earphones blocking what they can. a soundtrack of my life is always playing in the background, making me want to cry, scream and laugh at all of the appropriate times. caught up in these moments i lose myself to the simple rhythm and beat of feet. but at times, i'm ripped from this tranquility and peace. sometimes i'm taken back to childhood and old superstitions as i avoid cracks in the sidewalk in order to avoid any possible curse. i love my mother afterall. or maybe it has something with continuity, it could even be my ocd acting up again.. whatever it is, my stride is broken time and time again. curiously enough, i'm not the only one to break my stride. walking down busy sidewalks is easy for there is only one path to follow, and swimming upstream is much too difficult - some contact is expected. i have more trouble when these concrete slabs gape open and offer me their entire expanse and make my way upon them. there are no rules of the road and staying on the right is nothing more than a pleasantry taken by some out of habit. and so you enter into what i call "pedestrian stand-offs". it harkens back to days of the old west. at high noon the gun slingers emerge and face off. each waiting for the other to make the first move. and then, BANG. no one knows who dies until after the smoke has cleared, and sometimes two graves will end up being dug. and so this is how these meetings emerge. two strangers having chosen to take the middle of the path come to a head. moving to the right is always the pledge of marines and pilots alike, but we're on solid ground here. sometimes someone makes the first move in enough time that all is taken care of. but when stutter steps and second guesses occur, all is lost. hesitancy kills as they say.
---------
B.J. Cobbledick - a graduate of York university in Toronto. me and jasmine concocted a story for her life, as one was blatently necessary. and so the usual cliches of a troubled childhood and never fitting in out of name calling naturally arose. but with such a sexual name, it's no suprise that she later went on to become one of the most famous porn stars ever to have existed. and as she lives in eternal glamour on silver screens and snowy cassette tapes, those same prepubescent boys only watch in awe, in their lonely basement apartments with the door locked, at the acts they will never have done to themselves. but fame comes with a price, and the price of coke is quickly to high to reach. and this is where our story ends, with a retired porn stars living out the rest of her days as jerry seinfelds' mother estel on a network sitcom that now lies in the vaults of nbc.
---------
a dream -
a dark room. bound to a chair. objects and sounds flutter in and out of recognition. nothing is for certain. gagged, my saliva quickly leaves my mouth and everything remains dry and sticky. and as i search for answers to unknown questions, line after line of cocaine is forced into my system until i see it all clearly. but this is a dream, and so it all ends, and everything is as it was before.

and all you can hear is the wind

2005-05-22T22:01:00.000-03:00

lots of things i've been meaning to write about.. hold on for the ride..
-------------
today i've sat around. i haven't left the apartment all day. days like this will mess with your head. this place feels like a prison for the only air i get is the breath i take from sticking my head out the window - looking out of a dreary coloured city. everyone is inside today. the only sound you can hear is the wind whistling through trees. days like this let you think. tune in or tune out. or do both, it's all up to you. it's an information overload everytime you turn on the t.v... tickers and timebombs are the what fill the screen. clips of stories, montages of images without context - you're caught up in the moment of the current sound bite and moved along to the next critical piece of information before you've had enough time to read, let alone process the information. is it a wonder we can no longer think for ourselves. doing that takes perspective. doing that takes time and energy. but we're all too busy. even on days like these.
-------------

walmart is taking over the world. mcdonalds was the first to be the only familiar face anywhere in the world, but walmart is a monolith, an empire of grotesque proportions. the recent talk of anti-unions in these places of work reminded me of sussex and the effects of a walmart on any small town. a megastore that offers everything for "everyday low prices" leaves no room for small business. those mom and pop shops that create their own product could never hope to compete with someone who outsources for the cheapest labour in existence, namely slave labour - oh right, we call those sweat shops now right? and so, with the appearance of a walmart, we no longer need streets lined with hardware stores, food markets and stationnary stops.. not when you can find everything at one place - we are too busy and in need of effeciency afterall. and so the small shops creep by, relying on loyal customers to survive, with the new kid in town thrives. soon enough, he's the only kid on the block. a veritable ghost town of shops and boarded windows reading foreclosure and out of business. meanwhile, walmart is having another sale, dropping prices once again. think of the money you'll save. i've said it before, sussex will die when the mine is no longer there. i'll say it again, but a walmart would only hasten the process if it were ever to call the valley home. those quite quiant streets would survive only in memory for me. yet who do we blame? do we blame the fat cat capitalists? we are a culture of money and money making, so isn't that what we all dream of doing? growing, expanding, conquering? so if a company sets out and does what we all set out to do, who are we to admonish and call names? they're only giving us what we want afterall. we are the customers. we have the power and control. and with power comes great responsibility, just ask stan lee. and so, stand up for what you believe in. next time you order coffee and ask for fair trade, but fair trade isn't served, don't simply scowl and tsk tsk.. don't buy it. otherwise, what kind of message are you sending and how can you be taken seriously?
---------------
last week i was walking with becka. and in the distance i saw placards standing high atop the shoulders of walkers. a small army marched in mismatched steps in single file. back and forth they moved along their chosen block spreading their message to those who passed. no chants were heard, a silent protest it must have been. but the message was clear, pro-life, anti-abortion. i mindlessly read the boards with pictures of fetuses at various steps of life and the characteristics given at these times (at 2 months, I have a face and hands - the article of "i" makes them that much more real to us)... leaving the group, a discussion of god and life was begun, but none of that particulary interested me. what my mind was set on, was the one child who followed a step and half behind his parent as he trudged up and down this line of purpose. and all i could wonder was whether he himself now had a choice. could he grow up to be anything but anti-abortion after being on a picket line at the age of 9? i don't know. but it makes me ponder how much different my life would have been if church and other beliefs had been forced upon me at such an age.
--------

3 part series

2005-05-22T13:09:00.000-03:00

right now i'm happy.. bored and pissed off, but happy and content with the things i have.. read and see what i mean if you can decipher the images i throw your way..

BORED
damn the rain, damn the grey clouds, damn the black night and the depression it brings.. scratch that, we all know the weather is merely a reflection of ourselves.. when it rains it pours in our souls - it is not cats and dogs that fall from the sky, but all of those things in our lives that we dislike yet have no ambition to change.. then as the sun breaks through the mist, we see the hope of it all.. either that or go back to the disillusion we place on ourselves all over again..

ANGER
say what you want to say.. fuck you is what lays on the tip of my tongue.. it sits there, filtering all the other words that escape my lips.. a hint of bitterness and anger exists in all the phrases i say, masking the sentences i don't.. a pinta moment my english teacher would say.. upset with me and cursing one minute, asking favours the next.. turning off and saying i don't care would be so much easier.. place another band aid on a re-occuring scar.. it'll heal someday.. i don't need this toxin in my veins.. i could do without another hit of negativity.. try happiness on for size and see if your head fits through the neck hole.. or is it too tight and only ends up stretched, fitting loose and unattractive to you? i'm not playing this game anymore.. the house of cards topples and sways - i know it'll come crashing down someday.. and that's when you rebuild, from the ground up..

HAPPINESS
bless my sun.. the one that lies on the horizon, coming closer everyday.. i look for its light to remind me of what i want.. remind me of what i need.. it reminds me of who i want to be and who i am.. so shine down on me.. melt this ice, and burn off my callous layers until i'm naked and that's all there is left - the kernel at the centre of popped corn.. the diamond of the rough you've dug into the dirty earth and searched so long for.. and there it is, where it's always been.. it was too dark to see before.. inspiration finds me in the least likely of places.. a movie, a book, you.. you aren't all that i have, but you help me remind me of the things i do.. thank you for the positivity

p.s. this nasty halifax weather has got to stop.. seriously though, aren't 8 months of winter enough without suffering through another 2months of overcast skies and wet shoes? at least i'll appreciate the blue sky and the song of birds all the more..

-J

call it what you want

2005-05-09T17:55:00.000-03:00

running down corridors
through automatic doors
got to get to you
got to see this through

i see hope is here
in a plastic box
i've seen xmas lights
reflect in your eyes
-- wires - athlete

--------------------
silence. that moment in time when our minds begin to speak. no longer entrapped with idle thoughs of the future, of the past, we realize that we exist in the now. right in front of our eyes exists a whole brave new world to explore; an ever changing existence. throw in the term faced paced and this all sounds like a damn IT commercial. go to trade school. earn respect - get paid. and look like a fool in some cheesy commercial. don't you go to a fine arts college? not that there's anything wrong with that. got to be PC right?

--------

walking down the street, i noticed a man. standing steadfast, by his side, was his best friend. a canine whos' eyes served as the eyes of man, for though the man too had eyes, they no longer saw colour; only the absence of. and as he waited for the bus that was surely on its way, he stared listlessly into the distance. to a great beyond that could only be imagined in the eye of his mind. noticing this, a thought fluttered through my brain as a branch in the wind blocks the sun from my eye. "what must the world of the blind consist of?" i myself am an addict of people watching. of critiquing the nuances and judging caricatures.. all in attempt to understand people and their foibles. but standing there, in his own shadow, this man had nothing to watch but the films of memory. or maybe i'm making this out to be much sadder and more noble than it should be - like the worms that crawl from their graves of dirt to escape deathly floods of rain only to die at the feet of, well, feet. it reminds me of certain insect species whos entire life span is contained within a single day. birth. growth. procreation. death. is that life? to be the source of food or to be the source of someone elses food? what would you do if you had 24hrs to live.

-j

salt water

2005-05-03T22:37:00.000-03:00

rinsing your mouth with the stuff is vile.. trying to live with a canker sore is painful.. small tradeoff it if helps.. any suggestions?

so it's official.. two things are now at least.. 1. i'm going to taiwan - interview on friday confirmed it
2. school is over and gone are the friends..

1 is good.. 2 is bad..

in every generation there are a few people who are completely disconnected from the world.. they live in their own world and have little or no attachment to anyone or anything.. drifting from place to place.. living on the fringe.. looked at derisively by those on the inside, for that's where they believe everyone should be.. i'm one of these outsiders.. looking to the inside.. bounded by no more than loyalty is how we exist.. intimacy is a native definition.. or so i thought.. this is the first time (outside of girlfriends) that i can remember saying goodbye to be so difficult.. having the knowledge that i'll see these people, who have been in my life constantly recently, only a few more times before goodbye is really goodbye.. how can you say it's not when your lifelines diverge and stray from the parallel.. it's funny how parallel lines never touch, but are always nearby, within sight.. don't miss it until it's gone.. and once diverged, we'll meet again on the other side when both our cars collide.. and so once more until i say once more into the breach dear friends.. for the night is dark and long and must be passed through alone.. on the other side of the world, a world away, separated by wires and waves.. that's the life approaching me.. hidding dangers and treasures beyond imagination.. the chance of a lifetime where the first step is the hardest.. so i'm taking a breath and jumping in head first..

basically.. i'll miss everyone..
i learned a new kind of love these past years..

Closing time, time for you to go out
To the places you will be from
Closing time, this room won't be open
Til' your brothers or your sisters come
So gather up your jackets, move it to the exits
I hope you have found a friend
Closing time, every new beginning
-semisonic
Comes from some other beginning’s end

ants

2005-05-03T21:36:00.000-03:00

they locked me up in a white room with padded walls, and padded floors...then the ants came..
i hate ants.. they make me crazy.. CRAZY!!! crazy.. i was crazy once.. then they locked me up in a white room with padded walls and padded floors.. and then the ants came.. i hate ants..

you get the idea..
haha.. that was still a wicked night..

peace
-j

ain't it funny.. more overdramatics

2005-05-01T21:11:00.000-03:00

falling in love is so fucking easy.. another pretty face.. a name, a smile.. the way you wear your hair.. an outfit put together just so.. and i'll never see you again, but right now i'm ready to run away with you.. i'm ready to die for you.. it's the pills doing the talking, but i can't get your voice out of my head.. i won't get over you.. not until i find someone new.. i know what i want.. you fit the mold.. a chance encounter that impacts with the strength of a meteor crashing into our world.. a universe blown away.. bend and fold when pressed, resisting in all the right spots.. to survive.. leaving a mark, a scar that never heals.. a reminder

hope.. i don't know you, but that's what you gave me.. i wasn't prepared, i had nothing to return but a smile and a laugh.. visions of making love on a city rooftop.. walking down empty streets in the rain.. they haunt me as i go to sleep..losing time and forgetting the rest of the world exists.. another moment to put in my pocket.. another photo in the scrapbook of life.. taped and glued, with the corners bending and the colours fading in time.. a time come and gone, slipping through our fingers like sand from the beach we sleep on as lullabyes of water and waves play in our head..

don't leave me tonight, don't go.. a world so large, will i see you again? serendipity is the only one who knows.. keeping her secret tucked away in the folds of fate and destiny.. away from prying eyes.. what would you do if you knew your future?

a single conversation.. i found you again.. flashes and beats.. a sea of people i trudged through, swimming against the tide, only to find you again and say hello.. to say goodbye

and i don't even know you.. a fairy tale to obsess over.. another happy ending where nothing ever goes wrong.. a creation of my imagination.. a women into a goddess.. but icarus fell after flying too high.. man is no god

a picture and a name is all that remains...
-j

let's be honest

2005-04-24T14:02:00.000-03:00

i'm going to draw an analogy.. in black in white.. in printed form with hard angles and curves.. see if you can keep up.. i'm going to make an attempt.. i'm going to convert you.. to see things the way i do..

it all starts as superficial.. an instant attraction.. you fall in love with a song the same way you do as with a pretty face.. because at first that's all they are.. another pretty face.. another pretty sound.. lust and animal instinct drawing you in with pheromones and tones.. looking deeper into the lyrics and beliefs you start to fall.. deeper and deeper.. until you're hooked by the hook.. until it never lets go.. remaining as a fond memory.. a scar of the heart that never heals.. clean it with salt so it still feels new.. and as with anything else, it all changes with time.. looking into the past we feel like giants.. everything was so much larger when we were children.. monkey bars we hung on like chimpanzees... swings never let us touch the ground beneath our feet.. disappering into the air.. fighting gravity and losing everytime... winning a moment of freedom everytime.. yin and yang

how is it that we come to find someone.. "it's all in the timing she said".. probabilities, possibilities, fractions and proportions.. here, there, now, then.. too late, too soon.. a world of alternate existences and parallel worlds.. swinging doors, which door do you pass through? each one takes you on a different path.. each one changes your life forever.. a butterfly effect.. chaotic order.. which way to go? you never know.. hold on and hang in tight.. it's the ride of a lifetime with no height restrictions and the seat belts are all torn and frayed.. a rusted carnival ride run by toothless carnies grinning and spitting.. watching idly as you scream in joy and horror, never stopping the ride long enough for you to get off.. it isn't perfect, but it works..

when will i be in a place long enough to hear the sound of settling?

crack

2005-04-20T21:23:00.000-03:00

i deal drugs. that's what i do. it's my living. it's how i survive. i get paid for it. i buy groceries. i pay rent. i even recieve tips. with these tips i buy drugs of my own. another escapist fantasy. the only difference between me and the crack dealer on the street corner is the social perception. society says crack is bad whereas caffeine is good. even glorified, with a starbucks on every corner. it's hard to walk down any street in halifax and not see a coffee shop or cafe begging you to enter their subterranean cavern for your next hit. i suspect this is the same for any metropolitan area.

scattered. this is the side of the human race i see. at all times of the day you have people uttering clips and phrases, unable to complete full sentences, wanting their next jolt. that something that will get them through the rest of their dreary day. and it's all bullshit. i can fuck up your order so badly that you don't even notice the difference. the life of a customer service agent. you think you know what you want, but it's a placebo affect. if i have you believe you're getting what you want, then it's what you want. perception. and don't forget the skim milk. and you tip me, and i get paid and then i go get my next hit and buy back into the system so that i can escape all over again. let's go out for coffee. let's get wasted. so that we can be honest with each other and pretend everything we said was a lie.

i'm tired of this north american lifestyle. consume. spend. waste. lie. i'm even more fed up with my need to sit idly by and judge, inactively. i stand upon my soapbox and preach about the way things should be. i go home and stare mindlessly at a flickering t.v. screen that tells me what i need to have in order to be happy. a juxtoposition. a contrast. a paradox. every answer is found in the bottom of a bottle. in my dreams i can fly, yet my feet remain firmly planted in shoes of concrete. music makes me happy and raises me above the fog surrounding the crowds. at night i lay in bed alone and decipher the meaning to life. i'm a fake. a yes man with no thought of his own until i realize what you now just said was complete idiocy. i wake up the next day to do it all over again.

i love elevators. testers of personal space. all conversation dies. picking back up in awkward ways. joking tones that hint at truth. head down. eyes forward. acknowledge? melt into the background. i observe and understand the scenario. yet do nothing myself. i'm scared as you. maybe even more because i realize the consequences. it's culture. you aren't part of my life so don't step foot into it. which of these objects don't belong? you. these can be the longest 30 seconds of your life. until you're puking in the bathroom stall at work wondering why going out the night before was such a good idea.

i'm angry. i'm a joke. frustrated and handcuffed by my own inhibiton. all of this is a venting process about the way i wish things would be. if only i had a magic wand. my fairy dust is still in the mail. but if you have pity, you've fallen into my trap. if not, then you're too smart to be reading this. don't waste your time on words that have no depth. we are all human. most of us anyways. in the end, nothing seperates us. but yet we remain seperated. divided into our own egg carton compartment. i'm here. you're there. don't break down my wall unless you're ready to find out the truth. truth. what is truth. do you want mine or yours? we all have our own. perception. influence. nurture vs. nature. i don't know anymore than you. i have no answers. there are no answers. and yet we trudge on. afraid to admit defeat. there must be something else. otherwise, why begin at all? life is a joke with no punchline.

same words. different words. they all sound the same. vague and incoherent is the name of the game. no structure or context. so can you really understand what i mean? you don't know me, i don't know you. another disgruntled youth. sign of the times. tattoos and piercing. counter culture is the current culture. bought up by magazines and corporations. punk and grunge are dead. free love is no more. a melting pot we exist in. apathy, complancentcy, cynicism. and here i stand as another bohemian in my love-it-and-hate-it mentality. another fucking paradox to add to your list.

if only we could start over again.
i still think about you some.
and when the waves crash,
and the buildings crumble,
as the screams subside,
i hope you're by my side.

1984.
the end of the world.
the world has ended.
it hasn't hit our eyes yet.
traveling from a distant place.
light is only so fast.
wait for it.

if light is dark and dark is light, imagine how fucking how happy i must be. hahahahhahahahaha.

peace (another cliche of our times)
-j

something

2005-04-18T21:52:00.000-03:00

something needs to be said.. something is meant to be expressed.. something is waiting to get out.. yet nothing seeps onto paper from pen.. a phrase here or there breathes with inspiration.. the rest exists as convulutated words and sounds.. maybe i simply haven't learned the language yet.. i'm seeing the world in pictures and sounds.. the visuals in my mind say a thousand words.. but they all try to come out at once.. a suppressed whisper is the message drowned in a sea of a thousand screams.. the soundtrack of our lives plays on repeat in my head.. there is no beat and the lyrics have all worn out and frayed.. but it is felt.. like the memory of something you once forgot.. remembering brings it to life again.. i can only describe it as the feeling of simply knowing without knowledge..

i lay in my bed at night staring at the ceiling through my eyelids.. and as the music plays on, i feel the bed disappear from underneath me.. and lost in a moment, i come to a sense of peace.. peace for where i am, right then, right now.. because now is all there is.. the now is my reality and my reality is all that exists..

i'm thinking again.. i don't want to be lost in this sea of complacency anymore.. passion.. unbridled.. vulnerability.. without hesitantcy.. i'm convincing myself of things again.. and the blinking cursor acts as a metronome.. tick, tock, tick, tock..

-j

story of a recluse

2005-04-17T21:57:00.000-03:00

tucked away inside a room of his own. the sun never shines in a room without windows. locked in a box away from the world, stories are never heard and pictures are never seen. this is all he's ever known. a world of darkness and silence, neither of which he even has names for... for that's all there has ever been. that's all there will ever be. instinct is the only thing given to this man. does that still make him a man? captivated without knowledge of captivation because, as far as he's concerned, there is no outside. and in this room, as time passes without the use of days or minutes, he sleeps, eats and shits. and that is all there is to life. yet in the time between life and death, just as he falls asleep everynight, he hears a voice whisper "there is more to life". but he doesn't understand these interspersed sounds. and so he rolls over and goes back to sleep.

great song

2005-04-17T21:51:00.000-03:00

Hands down, this is the best day I can ever remember
I'll always remember the sound of the stereo
The dim of the soft lights, the scent of your hair
That you twirled in your fingers
And the time on the clock when we realized it's so late
And this walk that we shared together
The streets were wet and the gate was locked
So I jumped it and let you in
And you stood at your door with your hands on my waist
And you kissed me like you meant it
And I knew you meant it
That you meant it, that you meant it
And I knew that you meant it, that you meant it

-hands down by dashboard confessional


it's even better when you listen to the song itself..
you can feel the emotion and passion emanating off the lead singer..

i have nothing worthwhile to say at the moment..

i wish i could feel like i did when i was 6.. no one thinks twice
about a child dancing in the street by themselves

here you go kiddies.. the count is now up to 5

2005-04-15T10:15:00.000-03:00

3.5hr long session.. and still not done.. he was a little rushed so he missed a few spots.. but it's all good cuz the work is guaranteed.. i'll fix that up before i leave in the summer..
peace
-j

2005-04-15T10:13:00.001-03:00

quick and simple.. but he still missed a spot

2005-04-15T10:13:00.000-03:00

this hurt.. and obviously needs some touching up in the future

summer roadtrip

2005-04-12T20:52:00.000-03:00

that's the name of the game.. that's how it will all play out.. a last hoorah.. good friends and good times before the next chapter begins.. fear and loathing halifax ends as the next feature winds up and starts to play to keep the audience midly entertained for the next few hours.. this is how it's supposed to go down:

-dan will be in cape cod
-i'm leaving halifax the 1st of august
-depart home approx. august 12th - depending on when the bro is done with the army
-spend some time at the cape
-warped tour '05 in north hampton, mass august 15th
-roundtrip to california... with a stop in vegas.. cuz it's vegas baby
-back home by the 1st to get on the plane that's taking me out of canada for two years

fuck ya

new tattoos are on the way.. watch for them.. you know that i'll post the pictures here right?

----------

it's a zen like experience. the water cascades in a revolutionary spirit over the hands of a dishwasher. pushing thought after thought out of mind with a gentle ease. in the zone as they say - the focus of a samurai sensei or a pro sport athlete - it will be the only escape he gets today.

it's curious as to what comes to mind in moments like these. monumental questions such as why are we here? where did we come from? am i who i am because i choose to be? or am i simply a product of nurture and influence? the more frantic questions and thoughts seem to come in less peaceful times. self reminders of the tasks to carry out in the day. take out the garbage, phone home, buy groceries. these are what scatter an already scattered brain.

that same peace and tranquility carries the same silence as a quiet sadness. it's a contemplation and observation and relfection.

watching an update on the cbc, regarding the anniversary of terry fox, he is suprised by what comes next. while hearing a story he has heard before, that familiar sense of a tightened chest takes hold. whether it be out of exhaustion, he isn't sure. but he feels it. buried down deep is that twinge which could open flood gates at any moment. overemotionality at it's best. at least he's felt something today. like the numbness felt by a well travelled heel, knowing nothing is better than knowing at all.

the eyes fade to black. too weak to keep anything in focus they let loose on the world. a world that recedes into nothingness and all that left is a fuzzy form of it's previous self. look into the looking glass alice, what do you see? the mirror of self reflection is the scariest mirror of all. he would much rather use the fat mirror at the local fair, though weight has never been a real issue for him anyways.

---
and to think i actually aspire to one day write a book... mindless dribble
as if i have the motivation or drive for that
i know better - i'm too lazy..
either that or too fearful of attempted failure
peace
-j

share with me
cause i need it right now
let me see your insides
or write me off
cause i'd rather starve now
if you won't open up

next girlfriend

2005-04-03T22:11:00.000-03:00

prerequisites will include:

a) be able to enjoy garden state
b) carry a conversation and argue with me
c) tell me to fuck off when i need someone to
d) have a tattoo, more specifically, on the back of her neck
e) exist as randomness complete

that's all i have for now
this will of course be updated as required

peace
-j

what do we do now? i don't know

catching up.. yes, it has be awhile hasn't it?

2005-04-03T15:21:00.000-03:00

so the pope died.. i know that sounds blunt.. should i offer more tact? does the nonchalence and apathy make it awkward for you? am i making you uncomfortable? well, that's the way it goes.. you live, you die.. it's all the same process.. a circle and a cycle that cannot be broken.. so why are we so suprised everytime the cycle is completed.. we are afterall going around in circles.. 50% of the world has never known a differrent pope.. maybe it's time for a change.. that's not to say pope john paul the sequel hasn't been influential (why is it they don't keep their real name anyways? john paul isn't very polish.. doesn't even sound italian - cuz ya know, that's where the vatican is).. he did a lot.. very progressive.. or so i've read and heard.. i don't really know.. i'm not catholic..

related to this.. i finished angels and demons by dan brown the other day.. why does this relate? well, the novel revolved around the death of a pope and the conclave electing a cardinal to the new position.. all taking place in vatican city.. needless to say.. somewhat disturbing and coincidental.. at least i'm educated on the process of all these goings on this way..

as far as personal life.. right now i'm leading a double life.. a secret agent.. call me 007.. the only thing is, i'm so well disguised i can't even recognize myself.. it's a life of polarity and duality.. opposites bouncing off one another remaining in their own respective forces of magnetism.. i can't feel the ground beneath my feet.. i'm floating.. or walking on amputated stumps.. i can't be sure except that i haven't fallen on my face yet.. i rationalize my split personality with thoughts of seeking to escape apathy.. for without the darkness, there is no light.. so on this road of experimentation i tread.. hanging by a thread.. hanging on to who i know i am (think i am) while running as far away from here as possible.. i'm disappearing over the curvature of the horizon.. if only the world were flat.. it's all very much like bowling alone..

metamorphosis by kafka.. existentialism.. free will.. fate.. if the world is going to end, is there a point to waiting around? and if our choices are influenced by the society around us, does that make it our choice at all? the illusion of choice.. of control.. the things we fear of losing.. if we are not contributing.. if we live the life of a bug who is not an insect, is there a reason for it all.. read the book.. you'll understand better than what i've explained..

that was a nice seguay into the terri schiavo case.. the questions of if we even have the right to die? should it not be our choice? it all harkens back to christianity and life being a gift of god that should not be wasted.. suicide is a sin.. but was it not given to us? should we not be able to throw it back into the face of the creator if that's what we choose to do.. if it be our choice at all (see the connections here).. did you know she was anorexic.. that's why she found herself in the condition we all saw the videotapes of.. but the republicans came to her aid.. they proposed emergency legislation.. bush even cut his vacation in texas short, swooping in on his magestic helicopter to save the day.. he's never done that.. not even for the tsunami or 9/11.. what does that tell you? and so they protected her life.. if you can call vegetation a life at all.. but here's the catch.. remember how she was anorexic? this same government doesn't consider eating disorders to be necessary health issues to be covered under health care.. and so.. the ones who don't offer her help to keep her healthy, offer help to keep her sick.. yet alive.. life is important, health is not.. there's the moral of the story for you kids.. preventive medicine won't work.. it costs too much.. lets just put on some bandaids and try to keep you breathing a few days longer.. priorities people.. save money now.. spend it later.. blah.. and oh ya, she died of starvation.. how's that for irony?

few thoughts left over... dying of cancer? aids killing you a little more everyday? think about how if you had of been born only a few years later, you may have lived to see a cure borne out of medical science.. funny how arbitrary life can be sometimes isn't it? if only morality could catch up to technology.. nuclear fission, genetic engeneering, nanotechnology, A.I.. with great power comes great responsibility (stan lee told me).. living beyond the means.. living too fast that we can't even keep up with ourselves.. we're losing this race of one

final note: koran prophesizes that the U.S. will be destroyed in 07 by a tsunami that rocks both the atlantic and pacific coasts.. or so says an unackowleged, unreputable, self procalimed scholar who has been studying the verses.. hmm.. i wonder if he's right?

peace
-j

home is where the heart is.. or something equally corny will do

2005-03-28T18:39:00.000-04:00

so i quit the helpline.. threw in the towel.. waved the white flag.. it wasn't what i wanted it to be.. fuck policies and procedures.. damn the fraud.. anonymity isn't the way to get through what you're going through.. how much can an unseen face support you when your last crutch rotted through and snapped like a termite infested 2X4.. i don't agree with some of the things they did.. how they did some of the things they were doing.. doesn't follow my philosophy.. i only feel indebted for the time and energy they all invested for the training and the knowledge they gave to me.. but if i can't feel impassioned about the work i'm doing there, i shouldn't be working there.. or so goes my rationalization..

but before all this happened.. i saw the weakerthans and the constantines in concert last thursday.. didn't see the constantines because i was standing behind a pillar.. then i manuevered close enough to see the sweat on the bands face for the weakerthans.. of whom were the reason i was there to begin with.. they played all of the songs i wanted to hear so i was contented.. they aren't nearly as cool as i thought they would be.. they just did their thing and that was it and looked like big dorks while doing it.. but their lyrics kick ass, so the intellectuality of it all makes up for it.. then the two bands came on together for a encore.. reminescent of the used and my chemical romance doing their thing.. except this time it was all improved and sounded just as bad.. it posessed entertainment value though..

then randomly made it home.. it's all a blur.. thanks for the turkey mom..loved the O2.. best night all year as far as going out in concerned.. good friends = good times.. i miss those times.. i miss the summer..

it's funny how quickly i superficially fall in love.. it can be something as simple as a smile or a few uttered sentences.. or, in this case, wearing converse high tops and having a nauticle star tattooed on the back of your neck.. that suprise hasn't left my minds' eye yet.. infatuation, i think so..

ohhh swift.. nuf said.. that was awsome and ended up being a damn good time my brother..

note to self.. even if the ride home is free.. driving in a car with a family of 3, two others, 2 cats, and a fish.. is not a good idea.. talk about a circus car.. and trust me, there's an entire circus of events going on in that car the entire time as well..

random thought of the day: why do they put the actors names on opposite sides of movie posters.. doesn't it make sense for their name to be under/over their own face?? another instance of a seeming lack of common sense.. uncommon sense if you will.. (see, it's a play on words.. i work at uncommon grounds.. so, therefore.. oh, nevermind.. )

peace
-j

theories of time

2005-03-14T22:04:00.000-04:00

from "einstein's dreams" by alan lightman

1)future and past are entwined.. cause and effect have no linear relationship.. an acausal world where each action lives on it's own island of time disconnected from the rest.. the past with an uncertain affect on the present, and the present with little affect on the future.. a world of impulse, sincerity and living in the moment

2)in a world where the end is known.. a world where everyone knows when the end of the world will occur, there is peace.. chaos leads to order.. much like the movie last night

3)one neighbourhood is in the 15th century while the next is in the 21st.. some get stuck in the stickiness of time and are unable to move forward.. no one is happy for those who are stuck in their own joy or tragedy are left all alone as the past and present do not co-exist

4)a world where people have no memory.. each day is a discovery of the person they are and the life that they lead.. where they live, what they do, who belongs in their sphere of life.. it is a life of present for the past only surives in books and documents.. each persons book of life tells their own story.. but one must be selective with what they read with the time they have to read as others abadone the sojurn completely after deciding yesterday no longers matters or has signficance.. they are who they are today

5)a world without future.. it is uninmaginable and each laugh is the last and every goodbye is like a death leaving people clingling to the present.. paralyzed by the unknown consequences of their actions, without fantazising the results, they make no choice at all and are left in a state of inaction while others live unconcerned moment to moment.. there is no waiting.. and as a rain cloud moves in, a young man drinking tea outside at a cafe cannot forsee the rain to come.. noticing how the end of the world is so dark, he squints as he reads.. moves inside as the rain begins and is amazed at the end of the world being so wet.. he does not wait for the rain to end, yet when it does, he returns to the sun and notices how bright the end of the world seems

6)in a fixed future.. a life of indifference is lead for things cannot be changed.. everything is set in stone and simply left to be carried out.. much like the past, the future is rigid as well as determined.. clocklike inevitability.. the future is not known, but that it cannot be changed is.. spectators of our own lives.. there is no right and wrong for there is no choice and there is no responsibility.. it is hard to find pleasure and feel free in a world without freedom

and in our own time, the young wish it to pass more quickly for more birthdays and new years as the elderly hold on to each second and will time to move more slowly so they too many see more birthdays and new years.. the others fall in between wishing and willing time back and forth in a game of tug of war

feelings moved to the back of my mind....

2005-03-14T18:49:00.000-04:00

where feelings mean nothing at all....

or so it feels lately.. by not thinking, by not introspecting, by not analyzing.. by simply living, i've lost my place.. i've lost myself.. lack of inhibition leads down a primitive road.. one with trampled grass and muddy prints left behind showing that only barefeet tread in this direction.. the man i used to be.. the man i want to be..

"and this sickness ins't me/ i pray to fall from grace/ my worries weigh the world/ how i used to be/ and everything seems a plague to me" - - two songs, same emotion.. a disease of our times

right now i miss the sun.. i miss the warm air.. i've had enough of winter and driving through snowstorms at night on a two lane highway being passed by long haul truckers trying to level themselves out with uppers and downers.. a convertible ride to california on a dusty highway is the dream in the eye of my mind.. see it sparkle

in other news.. the world is going to see a change in 2012.. supposedly that's the real millinium or so say the mayans.. this is the age of revelation and the truth will be revealed in that coming year.. or maybe it'll be the Y2K scare all over again

also.. my elevator goes up to the 9th floor before deciding to fall back to ground level anytime i try to leave.. when i'm the only one in it that is.. this doesn't happen everytime, mostly in the early morning before work when everything still feels like a dream and i'm in some b-rated horror picture show..

maybe i just need a change of scene.. i'm growing bored of work.. but it serves me well.. haha, get it.. i serve coffee, it serves me well.. ya, bad joke.. i'll see you all later

peace
-j

while we were making love i was fast asleep - my heart refuses to join and be a part of it

note

2005-03-14T18:46:00.000-04:00

and so, because i can't figure out how to put all the pictures in as one post.. you get lots of posts about the same thing.. that one things being the roadtrip of the winter to montreal/ottawa.. enjoy.. i know i did
peace
-j

2005-03-14T18:33:00.001-04:00

group photo

2005-03-14T18:33:00.000-04:00

just like the monkeys.. but who's that guy?

2005-03-14T18:32:00.001-04:00

don't look

2005-03-14T18:32:00.000-04:00

skating on the canal

2005-03-14T18:31:00.000-04:00

the boys

2005-03-14T18:29:00.000-04:00

mirror play

2005-03-14T18:28:00.000-04:00

the used - my chemical romance... one stage

2005-03-14T18:27:00.000-04:00

welcome to the mosh

2005-03-14T18:26:00.001-04:00

goin home

2005-03-14T18:26:00.000-04:00

safe sex in quebec

2005-03-14T18:25:00.000-04:00

running and jumping about for god

2005-03-14T18:24:00.001-04:00

dome light

2005-03-14T18:24:00.000-04:00

roadtrip is on

2005-03-14T18:23:00.000-04:00

the used what?

poetic tragedy

2005-02-25T21:32:00.000-04:00

The cup is not half empty as pescimists  say
As far as he sees nothing's left in the cup
A whole cup full of nothing for him to indulge
Since the voice of ambition has long since been shut up

A singer, a writer, he's not dreaming now of going nowhere
He gave heed to nothing, and all that he was...
Is just a tragedy

So he voyages in circles
Succeeds getting nowhere
And submits to the substance
That first got him there

Then in violent, frustration he cries out to God or just no one
Is there a point to this madness and all that he was...
Is just a tragedy

He feels alone
His heart in his hand
He's alone
He feels alone
I feel...

Then on that last day he breaks
And he stood tall
And he yelled...and he takes his life


fucking ya... montreal in 5 days!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
peace
-j

bullet in the brain

2005-02-21T19:18:00.000-04:00

WATCH THIS

life.. death.. find that moment

peace
-j

random thought

2005-02-20T18:03:00.000-04:00

canadian armed forces....

pro - life experience, useful tools, education

con - death.. or worse, crippling injury

hmmm...

peace
-j

headlines of the day

2005-02-20T14:23:00.000-04:00

Pentagon prepares to bulid $70bn robot army....
When researchers succeed, a number of troubling moral dilemmas will have to be addressed. Some in the American computer business are asking whether it is acceptable to have machines decide for themselves whether to take human life and what will happen when, inevitably, the robot makes a mistake. The SWORDS robot sharpshooters have already been deployed to Iraq. Click here to view a diagram of one of the SWORDS system robots.

US soldiers to receive ecstasy to fight combat trauma..
Several studies in the US are planned or are under way to investigate whether MDMA, LSD and psilocybin, the active ingredient in magic mushrooms, can treat conditions ranging from obsessive compulsive disorder to anxiety in terminal cancer patients.

Israeli cabinet OKs withdrawal plan
The Israeli cabinet voted by a large majority on Sunday to approve a plan to remove Jewish settlements from the Gaza Strip and part of the West Bank

Nominees for the inaugural Man Booker international prize
Margaret Atwood
Saul Bellow
Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Gunter Grass
Ismail Kadare
Milan Kundera
Stanislaw Lem
Doris Lessing
Ian McEwan
Naguib Mahfouz
Tomas Eloy Martinez
Kenzaburo Oe
Cynthia Ozick
Philip Roth
Muriel Spark
Antonio Tabucchi
John Updike
A.B. Yehoshua

and oh ya...
NHL, union insist season is dead
they mean it this time

peace
-J

fucking bullshit

2005-02-20T00:12:00.000-04:00

bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit etc...
i need new friends.. i need friends.. period.. people who want to do things.. who aren't afraid.. who don't plan and think and analyze.. people that aren't scared to live.. if you're scared to live, you're not living.. and that means you're only taking up space.. get the fuck out and let us do our thing.. you're drowning me.. pulling me under.. i'm going under
i want to fuck and fight.. i want to cut and bleed.. i want to scream and hurt.. laugh and cry.. touch and feel.. be blinded by the light and the beauty.. kill me a thousand times over.. have me suffer the pain of a thousand deaths so that i may know the exhilerance of a life truly lived.. grasp onto every moment.. take every second.. use it.. abuse it.. make it yours.. but fuck it.. i can't do it on my own.. for no man is an island.. i am a continent eroded by the sea of complancentcy and indifferance.. make me cry outloud.. make me angry.. make me hit in anguish and despair.. push me to the extreme and bring me back.. so that i may know the limit to life.. for that is life itself..

i am drunk

but the dunk comp was good.. i must admit.. kid canada.. josh smith.. living legends.. hov to the jay-z

peace
-j

thoughts for the day

2005-02-17T14:51:00.000-04:00

why are dimes the smallest of the coin currency? they're worth more than both nickels and pennies, yet, as we measure everything by it's size - bigger is better - they come up short..

immigration officers came into work today..... they were wearing kevlar vests... is their job that dangerous? do they often worry about being shot down in the line of duty of serving supoenas and investigating freight cars? a little over the top isn't it?

i wonder what people think about as they sit and the coffee shop and sit.. i call these people sitters for all they do is sit.. they do not read, nor write, nor converse.. they sit and stare into the unfocused distanced.. what do they see?

a group of men came in today.. they were marveling at the interior and design of the place.. they had nothing to do with it's creation.. but because they assumed other men were, they were patting each other on the back for a seemingly job well done.. they admired and commented on how well everything works together.. it's only men whom i've seen do this.. issue of control/dominance/ego and the belief of superior over everything including nature.. men comment on the box that holds everything inside.. women speak about what's inside the box

for such a patriotic society that identifies itself through hockey, the poll of the day sure didn't hold up to that idea.. most simply could care less about the sport.. but maybe that says more about our clientele than anything else..

march will be good.. a break.. an escape.. an adventure.. good music, good times, good drugs.. an ode to the 60's..

try a montreal bagel.. this is no ordinary bagel.. it's the real deal.. you'll never go back to ben's..

this is what i do at work..
peace
-j

the time traveler's wife

2005-02-16T21:39:00.000-04:00

260pgs in.. half way there.. it's a short journey with no distractions and with nothing better to occupy your time.. and even if my mind is full of scenes and imagary, reading is lonely.. maybe that has something to do with me reading in my white walled and silent room..

it really seems as though i need to find a girlfriend.. they've always been good at occupying my time.. friends would work too i suppose.. but one is so much more easier to handle than many.. one girlfiend vs many friends that is.. you need more friends because there's a limit on the amount of time you can spend which other.. honest.. it's an unwritten rule

but until that time, reality t.v., books and music will accompany me..

recently inspired.. here is my current daily itenerary

545am - alarm sounds *early i know*
547am - i actually wake up and hit snooze
602am - i hit the snooze again.. this goes on for awhile
618am - decide i should get dressed and prepare for work
640am - show up to work late.. again
7-10am -serve coffee in sleeping stupor.. much of this doesn't get recorded to long term memory
1030am - eat another turkey sandwich for lunch.. damn overly fancy european sandwiches and soups
1pm - at this point i try not to get too iritated by the customers.. though i swear some of them are out to make me break
230pm - another day is done
230-10/11pm - food/reading/t.v./internet -- hence the need for a girlfriend/friends.. aka a life
remember that movie about a boy, with hugh grant.. my night is spent in sections.. it all seems more managable that way..

so there you have it.. the daily existence monday through thrusday.. i take three day weekends because i can.. and we never know what they hold..

my shoulder is still sore.. early arthritis here i come

anyways, that's that.. if you cared at all that is..

peace
-j

memories

2005-02-08T22:19:00.000-04:00

what are memories? if memory didn't exist, who would be? we'd no longer know if we were better than the person on our right, or worse than the person on our left.. we couldn't judge because we wouldn't know what we've done or what we do.. memory is what makes us us.. memory is knowledge.. without it we know nothing.. we're back in the garden of eden before we bit the apple.. maybe that's blissful ignorance

peace

vicarious days of summer

2005-02-07T21:20:00.000-04:00

to the things i wish i've done..
my summer has become winter and time has passed by.. why must we learn all too late that there was no reason at all to fear striving for that which we desired?
from here we should live without regret.. but i still feel that fear.. not of what has passed, but what is to come.. it is the fear of the unknown.. start living today.. someone show me how

mind + body = a fine balance where strength in both is required and desired

peace

legalization

2005-02-03T23:27:00.000-04:00

interesting seminar for training last night.. the topic was addiction..
nicotine accounts for 66% of all deaths related to drugs, whereas alcohol accounts for 33%.. this info comes from the RCMP and leaves the other 1% to be inclusive of all other drugs - perscription and illicit.. and so, why wage a war on drugs that affects the minority.. only recently has the war on tobacco companies begun.. therefore, a strong arguement was created for the legalization of all drugs.. for what harm could it do? with the legalization comes lower expenses and therefore a heroin addict would not have to commit criminal actions in order to support a 200-300$ habit for the costs would be much less with privatization...

why were these things deemed illegal to begin with? well, they weren't illegal to begin with.. as was alcohol illegal at one point.. unlike murder and theft, which we have moral offenses towards, the determination of these drugs being wrong has been socialized into our nature.. starting with a few old white man taking offense to white women hanging out with other races.. chinese and opium/heroin.. blacks and coccaine.. hispanics with marijuana.. that's the history.. this is the history that has led to our society deeming one thing okay (alcohol and nicotine) whereas others our not.. even though that which has been said to be acceptable is the biggest killler of all..

comment on this..
peace

p.s. things are better.. i can breathe again

days of our lives

2005-02-03T23:20:00.000-04:00

what if time were circular? continually bending back on itself? i orginally came across this idea in the movie K-PAX.. the theory was that with the creation of the universe (via the big bang), the universe was continually expanding.. but as time moves on, this rate of expansion slows down until it stops and slowly begins to close in on itself.. picking up speed as it goes back to where it began.. all to do it all over again.. and as this revolutions take place, everything stays the same.. each mistake, each word, each experience.. we remember them as our first or our last, yet we've done them a million times before and will do them a million times again.. in other words, get it right the first time.. but, if this has all happened before, can we change the way we are? and therefore, do we have free will? or are we chained to random, unpredictable chains of event we could call destiny.. and if we were able to have the knowlegde of the past and therefore the future, would we not huddle in the dark corners of the world in fear of disturbing the nature of things.. every step, every breath would set off a butterfly effect that would change things in ways we could never imagine.. and so, around and around we go.. where it stops, no one knows.. enjoy the ride or get off..
peace

look at all the lonely people

2005-02-01T22:37:00.000-04:00

i'm pissed.. i'm stressed.. fuck it.. you're all dragging me down with those small things you place so much importance on.. can't you see the big picture.. don't you understand those intangibles floating around your head each and every day.. i guess not because you're caught up with the fact that there's too much foam in your latte.. so i'm stepping out.. going outside by going inside.. instrospection for me.. silence for you.. you'll ask me what's wrong.. you'll think i'm upset.. but i'm only avoiding the petty traps you set.. it's hard to see your way out of the open field when all you see are the reeds in front of your eyes.. time to slow down.. it looks as though i'm a step behind, but i feel like i'm leading you along.. love, compassion, understanding.. where have they gone.. do unto others the way you want to be treated.. judge not lest ye be judged first.. steal from him and i'll steal from you.. how's that feel? i'm a vigilante on the move.. eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.. we'll all be blind and hungry.. how's that for your happy ending.. anyways....

side not.. being the only male in a room of 15 when talking about sex is an interesting dynamic..

------------------------------------------------------

a piercing shreik, but not a scream. the lights flash and twirl outside of the red light district. the doppler effect takes effect and the silence is cracked... broken... shattered. this jack in the box contains either a funeral or a rebirth; a celebration or wake. as the casket on wheels bears unweildly dow crowded streets, we the deer become trapped in the headlights of uncertainty and panic. another hidden story. disconnected, unplugged, placed on the fringe of the circle of life. a new age is born. the new dawn signals an impedning sunset.

possible excerpts and hurdled beginnings

2005-01-30T23:19:00.000-04:00

a place to keep worthwhile portions....

staring Tristan(tumult), Anna(grace), Janus/Jamie(god of beginnings)

it wasn't supposed to be like this. but then again, nother ever is. imaginning scenarios in the time that builds up to the present, we envision all of the possibilities that may come our way. life is too complex to be broken down into calculations and probabilities. some unkown x factor undoubtably rears it's ugly head and smiles as it laughs maniacally at our foulishness of believing we had the power to control our own destiny. so as we sit in the dark, prophesizing our own futures into self fulfilling prophecy, as we lay and stare at the ceiling that lies above our heads, a feeling of insignificance, loneliness and being overwhelmed sings us to sleep. these are our bed times stories of today. as children we begged our parents to tell us tales of princesses and wizards so that we could dreams of rainbows and butterflies. now we lull oursevles into numbness; and even with the knowledge that the monsters under our beds never have existed, we are still afraid of the dark. even though the nightime has always been my favorite moments of the day, it is this period between life and death; consciousness and dream that has held my stomach in its tightening vice. the night itself brings with it a narrowing of sight and expanse that can surround us like a flannel blanket when seated beside a crackling winter fire.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

i've walked down this street many times now. it's become a ritual and a routine, everytime using the same amount of preparation before heading out the door. and as i walk by her house, i'm reminded of her each and every time. the house itself begs no attention. the neighbourhood is urban in design and the residences touch upon each other in the name of efficiency in space only. a small courtyard, stone steps, a side garden; each area a reflection of the other. but it is this one with white washed walls and baby blue shutters that emerges from my memory. the weather was still warm the first time i walked along that concrete path. awakened our of oblivion and self-indulgent thought was the next step and was accomplished by the reds and pinks that were layed out ontop of a green backdrop. most boys create forts and act out imaginary wars against monsters and demons; yet this was no ordinary encampment. it was a canopy made of several umbrellas laid out in a circular fashion, with each overlapping the next. maybe it was out of necessity as the sun was reaching it's peak and the rays of light were warming and burning anything under it's exposure. but the girl herself tipped the balance against this rationalization. emerging from a cave of filtered pastels, quilts and teddy bears was the child of umbrellas. her unmanaged hair, left in tussels and knots, spoke of feeling carefree. mismatched clothes and barefeet sung about simplicity and wonder. the whole image reminded me of what innoncence may resemble; something that becomes lost in our cynical defences against the wages of war we have come to call our lives. and as i made my way past her castle of imagination, she took notice. and without hesitation, without fear and with no inhibition, the girl of umbrellas looked up and uttered the single syllable "hi". left open ended, the greeting was filled by curiosity and unassuming questioning. but taken in surprise, i could offer nothing in return myself except for a reactionnary and muttered hello. yet retrospection and processing left an imprint of a smile on this memory for me since.

do i think because i am?

2005-01-30T22:32:00.000-04:00

on the day the world ends...

a bee circles a clover,
a fisherman mends a glimmering net.

happy porpoises jump in the sea,
by the rainspout young sparrows are playing
and the snake is gold skinned as it always should be.

on the day the world ends
women walk through fields under their umbrella,
a drunkard grows sleepy at the edge of a lawn,
vegetable peddlers shout in the street
and a yellow sailed boat comes near the island,
the voice of a violin lasts in the air
and leads into a starry night.

and those who expected lightning and thunder
are disappointed.
and those who expected signs and archangels' triupms
do not believe it is happening now.

as long as the sun and the moon are above,
as long as rosy infants are born
no one believes it is happening now.

only a white haired old man,
who would be a prophet,
yet is not a prophet,
for he's much too busy,
repeats while he binds his tomatoes;

there will be no other end of the world,
there will be no other end of the world.

-Czelslaw Milosz

and so my book will sound.. a basis for the design, a foundation to place my walls has come forth.. in the words of atwood and alduous.. the year is 1984 and this is my distopic talel.. but given a chance to do it all over again, will the results be the same? if so, what does that say about our fate.. our free will which we hold so dear as egotistical rulers of our own world.. the creatures with the most brain capacity and power yet the only ones who rape, pillage and destroy ourselves.. so are we more intelligent than the rat? the mice are the ones behind this experience we call life.. and is life life when you lie in bed, paralyzed from the neck down? dependant as an infant.. your life is held in someone else's hand.. so pray to god, or the devil and see where your soul calls home.. suicide or homicide.. pull the plug and you'll no longer bleed.. and there's no longer any difference between the colours we call black and white..

so, johnny, go get your gun.. but watch out.. there are landmines out there

p.s. i'm the only one with the key to decipher this cryptic

charged

2005-01-15T01:29:00.000-04:00

as lame as they may be.. as bad as the acting is performed.. as cliche as the stories are told.. i'm a sucker for an inspirational movie.. let me tell you why.. it's because it's always the same thing.. someone is challenged to stand up.. after falling to their knees they are given a hand and they rise above.. they rise to an unknown level.. we are all light.. we are all energy.. we all have the ability to perform what we call miracles.. these are the things that have the potential to be our daily deeds..

can't we criticize.. can't we analyze.. can't we understand the things we need to do.. kant believed we all understood the difference between right and wrong.. an innate moral compass.. does our present condition prove his theory wrong? or is our present condition merely a disease of the times that mutates before we ever get to the cure?

common sense seems so easy to use.. unless you're asked to use it.. looking through the mirror glass into the lives of others is easier than looking at yourself in the reflection.. perfect i'm not.. shattered i've been before.. there is no soapbox underneath my feet as i walk on the ground among the masses.. a community of minds.. a community of boards and discussions and unseen talking heads deciding what's best for us.. a global village where it's everyone for themselves is a dangerous game to play.. a battle royale for the best seat in the theatre to watch the end of the world..

i'm beginning to talk less.. i'm beginning to do more.. i'm finding myself in the process.. the music i hear.. the words i read.. the ambitions i hold high.. the goals i create

strong in mind.. strong in body.. a desired combination

suppressed by my four walls
grind my teeth
bite my tongue
and escape into the crisp winter air
feel my lungs expand
a weight lifted off my chest
with feet light enough to dance

dr. jeckle of mr. hyde is the only one who haunts me now
a drama that swallows everything that surrounds
leaving a taint of sadness

and i can't fix what isn't me that's broken

i know i write with vagueness
but you must understand i understand the words i use
their purpose serves me not you
feel free to join in and tag along
are you voyeuristic enough?

peace

a distorted reality is now a necessity to be free

2005-01-13T23:33:00.000-04:00

.... or so says elliot smith
i would agree.. depending on what our definition of freedom is defined as.. but semantics aside, how much freedom do you have.. job responsibilities, rent payments, car payments, kids, mortgages, college tuition.. can you escape the chains that bind? or do we simply chalk everything up to choice.. is university a choice anymore? beginning as privelege, growing into obligation, turning into obsolution- it's all about the sign of the times as the moss grows fat on a rolling stone

it seems i'm living in a house of cards.. but i'm not the one that built this shaky structure.. all it takes is a breath of air to play 52 card pick up... the king of hearts, you know, the one with the sword through his head.. somedays that's how i feel... an escapist fantasy to escape from stress that doesn't belong to me.. a bad karma and vibe that swirls and twirls with immaturity and instability.. i should reorganize the furniture to open the flow of chi.. one day i'll scream the thoughts that echo inside my head.. when my stomach is full from swallowing all of those things i never said.. mom always said not to say anything if you have nothing nice to say at all

so i'm listening to this new cd.. a compilation of elliot smith and broken social scene with a lil wintersleep thrown in for spice.. it was a gift.. a method of education.. or a come on, depending on how it's to be viewed.. i think she wants me to go to the broken social scene concert next week.. moreso, i think she wants me to ask her to go with me.. not a likely prospect.. nice girl, decent taste in music.. and that's as far as it takes us..

tips for tsunami seem to have worked out.. all three stores participated.. all of the staff seemed pretty keen on helping.. only one disgruntled comment from the customers within my earshot.. i think we'll be looking at over a 500$ donation for oxfam.. that's more than i could have asked for considering this was all dreamed up in under 10mins late one night and put into execution with a single telephone call.. desire=initiative

i've been congratulated and welcomed into the helpline family.. training begins next thursday as a 6month experience begins.. this cuts into my O.C. time, but i'll deal.. that's what the internet is for.. oh how you rocked out tonight sandy.. another happy ending just in time for more drama next week

i've created an alias for myself.. brenton owsley is the name.. why? because

entering the age of cable tomorrow.. i've lived with two channels for the past 4months.. just in time for the nba second half.. i've seen way too many movies lately

k-os at the marquee tomorrow night?
propositioned by my manager?
results of a day developing pictures for the first time?
.... quesitons to be answered this weekend

game plan stands:
1)hitting the road to cali - summer of 05
2)lost in translation in taiwan - fall of 05
3)surfing and edumacation in new zealand - fall of 06
4)irrigation, soccer, agriculture and education in africa - 07?
.... the things i remind myself to look forward to while attempting to live right now... but what is there to do in halifax besides the dying music indy scene?... this of course is a question directed outside of keiths, universities, maritime music, ships and spending money i don't have.. that's the halifax i already know

peace
-j

something worthwhile

2005-01-07T16:33:00.000-04:00

i was walking past the graveyard today, noticing all of the broken tombstones.. i thought to myself, do they bury people in the winter? wouldn't the frozen ground make that hard.. but if they don't, where do they keep the bodies? maybe they keep them in storage for the spring thaw...

anyways..

i'm going to be a volunteer at the kids help phone.. training starts in a few weeks.. the commitment isn't too much.. and at least this way i'm doing something productive with my time here.. 4hrs a week.. one 8hr backshift a month.. i can deal..

also.. i instituted a little fundraiser today.. talked to my manager and she's agreed to help me out.. i call it TIPS FOR TSUNAMI.. the three stores of this growing franshise are going to devote all of the tips they recieve that day to help with the relief of the tsunami disaster.. the employer has agreed to match whatever funds are raised.. i've done some research and it seems as though oxfam is the way to go (fewer bureaucratic fees)..though i'm worried about the conflict of interests seeing as how we don't deal in only organic free trade coffee.. i mean, our espresso is, but not the coffee.. so i'm deciding if that is hypocritical.. we could go with the red cross, but the government is matching whatever funds they raise before the 11th - the problem with this is that only 10% of that government funding can be spent outside of canada in regions closer to the disaster.. the other 90% has to be spent within the borders of canada (for economical reasons).. this means the supplies will take a few months to reach their destination..

i'll figure something out on the weekend.. at least it's something
peace

thinking outloud

2005-01-06T22:57:00.000-04:00

as boys fight the wars of men,
as the earth swallows an entire country,
as poverty and disease run rampant,
as materialism and overconsumption breed freely,

"i think to myself, what a wonderful world"
-louis armstrong

where are the mattie stepanke's of the world?

"even though the future seems far away, it is actually beginning right now. and while we are living in the present, we must celebrate life everyday, knowing that we are becoming history with every work, every action, every deed"

how is it that the wisdom of a 14yr old child outshines those of the most powerful men in our world? to have such knowledge of life.. to understand what is important.. to have learnt such lessons.. does it take strife and the hardships of suffering? must one face death in order to know how to live life? or can we possibly learn from each other?

to have a heart so full of love.. to not feel the weight of anger.. to smile freely at the experience and gift of another day..

"sad things happen. they do. but we do not need to live sad forever"

... i could only hope of saying it that well myself
-j

back to it

2005-01-05T22:14:00.000-04:00

a new resolve of exercise or mind and body before bed.... new year's resolution? no... likely to last just as long? yes

a little creative writing before bed...

that same recognizable blue bag sways lazily side to side. it's easy to tell where he's been, discovering the destination is the difficult part. it's times like these that i think to myself about the stories that surround us. an apartment building looms menancingly to my right, a wall of gray concrete and double paned glass, holding lives in individualized compartments. does the man walking in front of me live one of these single serving lives? he meanders along, seemingly unrushed to get where he is going. a sadness comes over me as the man sways in opposition to that blue bag he holds in his hand. within that bag, liquid courage rhythmically sloshes with the unrhythmic swagger of it's carrier. questions of solitude or socialization are held within the confine of those numbers of alcoholic percentage - somehow i know the former is more likely than the latter. perhaps it's the sunken shoulders or the shuffled step. or maybe, it's because i recognize the face of hope when all hope is lost.

it's something at least
goodnight

exhaustion

2004-12-08T13:32:00.000-04:00

mood:sleepy
listening to:the shins - so says i
reading: handmaidens tale

another 40+hr week
staying up too late
getting up too early
8hrs a day on my feet
christmas shopping stress
roller blading across the city
a game of soccer
out of shape

i'm simply tired

and it feels great
today i watch movies and read the words of atwood

i haven't had anytime to read anything so nothing interesting to note
i have two options for friday night.. what do i do? this never happens
mm.. can't wait til the new year

peace

bush

2004-12-01T23:02:00.000-04:00

he was here.. he spoke.. hands were shook.. applause was heard

outside, drums were beat and songs were sung..

i have nothing else to say on this topic

goodnight

ahem

2004-11-30T14:51:00.000-04:00

as per the comment on my last entry.. just a few things to say.. this may come off as defensive, but that's only because i am being defensive..

not once have i said that this blog would not be a place for me to self indulge, be melodramtic nor have me wallow in self pity.. some days you just feel like doing that.. if you don't want to hear it, don't read it.. it's not being forced down your gullet and it gives me a place to vent.. if i actually felt like this all the time i wouldn't be getting out of bed because i'd obviously be too damned depressed.. i write in the moment.. whatever comes out comes out.. half the time i don't know what it even means.. and sometimes things just sound good together.. only take me literally if i repeat things more than once.. k.. i'm done with this entry..

peace

creation - my favorite entry yet - play me a song

2004-11-29T23:22:00.000-04:00

mood:seemingly stressed
listening to:damien rice - delicate

i feel the need to create; to be creative. over the last weeks, or perhaps even months, i've felt unintelligeble and unproductive. nothing is bubbling up and over my surface in excess; in need of escape. everything quietly remains below the skin, simmering in it's own pot of apathy? (i'm not certain about the word selection here; at a loss for a word if you will - any suggestions?)

i am not this: txyeste - (see editorial of la viuda). this is what i want to be. i yearn to live as a vision, a message, a meaning. for years it has felt as though something lies slumbering in my depths awaiting the right chance to awaken and exit from its cave. something that will be worthwhile and beautiful at the same time. i yearn to live. lately.... lately i have felt restraint. held back. on the brink of an unknown greatness. am i waiting for someone to push me over the edge? words escape me. no longer can i sing a song and have them dance in waltzes and pirouettes for me. these days i find my wrists bound by vowels, my legs shackled in verbs and my neck hung by the noose of syntaxt.

this is the story of a boy who has yet to find his story to tell. waiting for his real life to begin, slaying dragons in dreams and reliving regret in nightmares. overwhelmed by what there is to do. too much to experience, not enough time - days wasted on an xbox and a convexed screen. my overtone is melancholy even when, for the most part, my life is one of content - i have no better word to describe it; satisfaction, joy and elation oversate the case while depression, frustration and anger due it no justice -- pieces of each and a balance is reached. my life is that of an artist starving from non-motivation, self critiscism and the reluctance to take the leap of faith.

working 44hrs serving coffee is not what i want to be doing. emphasizing a system of over consumption and misplaced wealth is what my morals protest against. this is the cry of a caucasian middle class male between the ages of 18 and 40. what do i have to complain about? what do i have the right to complain about? aren't all of our negatives relative to our position and situation in life? is it our socialization that keeps us from being satisfied? give a starving man bread and he'll wish for french baguettes. are you seeing my point here? it sometimes becomes lost in the translation. misguided by the roadsigns between mind/brain and firing eletrical synapses looping a feedback of action from fingers through to the sight of retinas... upside down images are difficult to interpret.

sleep is not upon me yet, but the hours dwindle before the time a crowing rooster rouses me from slumber. one day becomes the next as hours slide into one another and all we are left with are the moments we keep and hold close, tucked into the scrap books of our memory. tomorrow i search for one such moment to glue and tape, colour and sparkle.

my feet still stumble, yet the dance has been danced. i remember some of the steps though i may yet be out of time and tune. yet the words have not left me and i feel as though something has been said tonight.

because of that i shall rest.
shed some of that stress.
play me a song piano man
and i will dance again.
goodnight.

i feel refreshed - feel my carthartic words

44

2004-11-29T10:55:00.000-04:00

that's how many hours i worked this week.. the bright side is that today is my one day off.. the downside to the bright side is that i'm too busy recovering through sleep to fully enjoy it.. it seems as though this will be my life from now until the new year.. that's what happens when half of your staff is from ontario and they book three weeks off for xmas vacation.. me and some of the other staff did have a nice water cooler rant last night about the incestous work environment we work in.. somewhat convenient that the three people who work the least are also friends of the family.. why else would you keep someone around who works 4hrs a week?

mood: sleepy
listening to:the get up kids - i'll catch you

a girl gave me her number yesterday.. she'd been in the last few days and we talked about bush coming to halifax and other related stories.. she's a poli sci and law student, so her interest in the subject makes sense.. anyways, she wants me to call her when i head down to see bush give his speech to us maritimers.. it's purely PR and my interest lies solely in seeing the president of the united states speak in person.. hell, i mean, he is going to be 1/2 away from my door... that doesn't happen everyday.. i feel awkward though, because if i call, does that equate into leading her on to something that isn't there? ehn..

i do miss sleeping next to someone.. truth, i never really slept that well because i was overly concerned with how well the other person sleeps.. whether if i move i'll disturb them and such.. but feeling the glow of their body warmth and the sound of deep peaceful breaths piercing the white noise of the night has always been my favorite.. as well, simply knowing someone else is there.. someone you feel physically and emotionally close to.. makes the rest a little easier to swallow..

again, i'm content.. it's only that i have given up on most of my friendship network because it doesn't contain the things i want it to.. i always morphed and flexed myself instead of finding a mold that fit.. so why'll they aren't abandoned, they've become relationships on the fringe of my existence.. so for now my life consists mostly of work, the apartment, the kitten and the roomie.. and that's okay

hmmmm

2004-11-27T13:11:00.000-04:00

http://worldonfire.ca/

the video says everything i could want to right now about western civilization, materialistic lust and over-consumption.. i am not holier than though for i am part of the problem.. the silver lining is that i can also be part of the solution..

take a few minutes to check it out.. it'll give you something to think about for a minute.. besides, she's canadian..

p.s. i miss hackey sac

it's back

2004-11-25T23:14:00.000-04:00

(begin self indulgent dramaticism here:) i see the monster once more.. that one i've long ignored, pushed away.. though he's never left.. i don't feel the suffocation that i once did, but i know he's there - watching...waiting- but it won't get in because i don't.. won't.. can't give up.. this is all but overly dramatic, but i could easily withdraw and stare at the flickering screen for hours with a bottle in hand so that the mind is kept from coming to the realization of the prison it has been put in..

i have no reason for this rebirth.. the past weeks have gone on without incident.. things run smooth and the road holds no speed bumps of any size.. but here i am, alone at night, trying to keep the car from swerving off this dirt road into a shadow cast tree.. how i can't wait to get out of this place.. away from these people that grow complacent and content with being discontent.. when you want nothing at all, you're happy to have an empty heart.. (end said self indulgent dramaticism here!)

breathe, smile, live, cry, laugh.. someone challenge me

without a reason, i won't continue to feel the way i do tonight.. let it in to push it back out.. processed and swallowed..

fuck i'm tired.. i've felt stupid all week.. education and life is on the agenda now..

vivre d'abord, philosopher ensuite

goodnight

p.s. watch the goings on of ukraine to see the power of voice and movement.. fight for your right.. which is most important when freedom becomes it's own illusion of slavery.. democracy has a new definition these days and has become mutated since it's birth.. take a lesson from this western world

pps oh ya, u.s. government is suspected of using secret operatives in recent events to swing the benefit in their direction.. hmmm.. is this even a surprise to anyone?