The Elegance of Consequence.

Paralysis. Utter shock and disbelief. The familiarity of disappointment. The hospitality of the desperate. Complete judgment from the ignorant but not the ignored. Unsimplified motives changing human interaction. Snare, bass, snare. Paralysis.

Solitaire

It always seems to happen this way... at first it was 1 week, the next was 2. Both were tough, for different reasons, and in hindsight it seems a little unreasonable for certain people. But the toughest thing I'll ever be forced to endure is this next one. The person who has become a big part of my day-to-day, something I've only let happen to a very small degree once before, is leaving for 2 months.

There is only so much time before she leaves. I have a few weeks before she's out of my reach. i won't be able to touch her face and hear her voice. I guess this is the relationship's first down, it was bound to happy but it won't change us, i know that.

Tarnished

In the weeks leading to the most merry day of the year, I feel, sunken. That's a decent way to describe how it feels. I mean, I'm exhausted from my new job, and the bridges from the previous one have been all but burned... I got my relève d'emploi in the mail today... its cool I guess. Its just another way to look back at all the things that I've done...

Help me out yeah
You know you gotta help me out
Don't you put me on the back burner...

Time Lapse

Its been a while, I'll admit... I just haven't been able to get time to do this. I mean, its not like I have all the time in the world right now, but its nice to get this off my head. Since the last time I blogged, Barack Obama has become President-Elect, I've tripped out on shrooms, and found myself a new job. There are some other things too but I don't necessarily want to jinx them. I'll be heading to Costa Rica in February, it'll be another one of those signature adventures with Danny, I cannot wait.

Rich Kid's Blues

Been having bad times
And I've been paying dues
Got shoes and money
And good friends too

Always play to win
But always seem to lose
That's why I think I got
A rich kid's blues

That's why I think I got a rich kid's blues

And I know what is going on
And I know, but I'll wait til dawn
And I know just exactly what is on your mind
Jumping back, I know if I'm still gonna lose you

But I'm wondering why, girl
Did I ask your name?
And all the people standing by
Oh, they're in my game

Love's just a story
A story without words
Words are almost never seen
And never even heard

I know what is going on
And I know that I'll wait til dawn
And I know just exactly what is on your mind
Jumping back, I know it's all a rut, you want me to prove it to you

Though my good times
Are just paying dues
I've got shoes and money
And good friends too

Though I always play to win
I always seem to lose
That's why I think I got
A rich kid's blues

That's why I think I got a rich kid's blues

I know what's going on
I know what's going on
What's going on
What's going on
What's going on

17,520 hrs later...

It doesn't seem like that long; a lot can happen in two years, but very little can change. There have been many revelations and altercations, many implications and alterations, but I've somehow managed to maintain a personality that reflects on the people around me. As much as I want to escape I also don't want to leave. For the last little while, I've considered myself a realist, but now, I think the best term anyone can use is escapist.

Thankfully I can quench the desire to escape with Halloween- the ultimate dream for anyone wanting to be somewhere else, or someone else....

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Escapism

Urge to Get Lost

I'm not talking about the TV show we have all been deprived of since last May. I am actually talking about the acute overload of our brains mainly due to the media. With both the American and Canadian elections getting a bulk of the media's attention, I have the urge to lock myself up and throw away the key. The coverage on all the candidates is cancerous and makes me want to vomit. Here's to hoping that no one wins and complete anarchy takes over. Here's to hoping the world really does end as the Mayan's predicted it. Here's to our non-existent future, (this isn't as pessimistic as it seems-- our future literally does not exist yet).

Either way, humanity is in a downward spiral which may or may not lead to the complete obliteration of what we have come to know and live with comfortably... I'm just praying that it results in something cool, like out of Jurassic Park 2, but less 'Vince Vaughn'  aka less lame...


P&L

Random Wednesday?

on the cusp of knowing how little sleep i'll be getting tonight, i default back to not knowing.... this is comforting.

Terminal

I can't for the life of me begin to think of what it would be like to have a known expiration date. It wouldn't be horrible, but I know that my procrastination would overtake me and I wouldn't do the things I've always wanted to.

I am a Cliché

Here I am, oblivious to the entire world and my immediate surroundings giving into the pop-culture cliche of blogging in a Apple Store. My systematic demise and fall into the obscurity of the current world is more or less complete. This means I have 3 options:

1. Leave here fully knowing I have sold out.

2. Look at the dude next to me doing the same thing.

3. Continue with this and blog in as many Apple Stores as I can.

Option three seems the most adventurous.

Apple Store

Ste-Catherine

Montreal

Closer to Clairity

Closed doors may leave behind opened windows.
Allowing yourself to become seduced by the dark passenger is a must.
Mercy, by definition, is a tool of the weak.
The ambiguous will one day prevail.
Breathing has now taken its toll.
All this means is that its coming closer.

Le Weekend

Nothing beats getting away from reality. Whether its a day-dream at work or a weekend getaway to someone else's family party... its great. Obviously I write this for a reason, I did in fact attend another's family reunion, and the best part was that I was at ease the entire time. Having to meet new people, mingle with strangers and friends of all ages and upbringings was calming, and having been witness to such a powerful event brought about a feeling that I thought I would never be able to top. Then I drove back to the city alone smoking a joint, listening to music, with the windows down. Perfection followed me where ever I went, and now I wait for her to catch up with me on Wednesday.

helL.A.'s rooms

Fuck you reality. There's nothing more gratifying than a punch in the face... maybe delivering a punch in the face. If people didn't have such urges then the world would be a boring, uneventful predetermined line. Like a graph in Calculus.... deathly boring.

If you live your life this way then its gonna change. Know that. A brilliant writer came up with this: Life is a series of rooms, and its the people in those rooms that define who you are. Most people live on a constant, I don't want to live my life in the same series of bland rooms. I am not going to live my life in the same rooms. I'm leaving this room.

Simply Put....

My recent string of bad luck, which included a car accident, speeding ticket, and the re-introduction of an old 'friend' is taking its toll on me. I can't help but show my utmost frustration for the smallest of things, but I know for a fact that things are about to change. They will unless somethings goes completely wrong. If that does indeed happen, expect me to live under a rock for the next few seasons.

Aside from that, the project that a few friends and acquaintances have taken on (herein known as Project X), is looking good. Its ambitious as always, but that is expected with the people involved. Hopefully this takes off and my feet don't touch the ground for quite some time.

I was attacked by a spider driving home tonight. Piece of shit.

This is the Part

I've built up this collection of souvenirs from years of missed connections. I'm giving it all away. So here's a ripped up picture, and here's an unused ticket from the show, the play, the game. I'm giving it all away. This is the part.

This is the part where we start to feel better.... and stop shutting up. We're all running out of time; waiting in line.

This is the part where your friend got sent and all the big war words stop making sense. And you wonder where the money ever got spent, and you wonder how that motherfucker ever got in. This is the part where you get to realize that whether your dad died, your boy or your girl lied, there are families on the other side. It's a start, it's a safe place for any and all hearts. This is the part.

Not The Sun

Please don't be technology,
So I can't turn off your love like some cold machine.
Don't feed me scraps from your bed.
I won't be the stray coming back just to be fed.

Don’t be waves.
Come to seal my fate, marine.
Just pretend,
That you want me,
And be my babe.
Would you be my babe?
Would you be my...

Well don't be that note I can't hold.
Well don't be that joke that I told and told 'til it got old.
Don't be that hand 'round my throat so I can't breath. (So I can't breath.)
Say you're my friend but why won't you be my family?

And if you breed,
Just don't tell me.
Would you be my babe?
Would you be my babe......

To be my serene.
Tell me you know what I mean.
(Prove me wrong.)
You've set on me, but you are not the sun.
You are not the sun.

Outside your cold lips again.
You set on me, but you are not the sun.
You are not the sun.

Just pretend that you love me,
And be my babe.
Would you be my babe?
Would you be my...

Back from Beantown

So I went to Boston for about a week. It was a good chance to get away from the hustle & bustle of Montreal. It was fun.... I acquired a new identity and an accent of course. I made some cool friends along the way and got some cool ranch doritos! They're awesome, unlike American beer. Thats so awful. I would stop drinking because of how full it made me, not because I'd be drunk. In fact, the Bushmills is really the only thing I could become intoxicated with.

I did SOME shopping... the whole "anything to declare" joke lasted throughout the entire trip because my car was full.. i mean packed. Jam-packed. It was great.

Going to a house party in town was like something out of a Laguna Beach episode.... but the people were cool. It was a great change of pace to be in Small-town, USA... but I'm happy to be home and still on vacation.

P&L

Hello/Goodbye

Hello darkness hello sunshine
Hello not at all hello all the time
Hello nowhere hell-oblivion
Hello goodbye

Hello darkness hello sunshine
Hello not at all hello all the time
Hello nowhere hell-oblivion
Hello goodbye

Hello darkness... hello hello
Hello hello hello

All in the ghetto the weather is better than ever
I hope it never ends I hope it lasts forever
But when it does, we can all pretend that is better
Than its ever been
Lie to ourselves like the sky to rebel
And its well and its fine and its fine if it fell
And you can refine the storyline if you survive to retell
We are targets

Hello darkness hello sunshine
Hello not at all hello all the time
Hello nowhere hell-oblivion
Hello goodbye

Hello darkness hello sunshine
Hello not at all hello all the time
Hello nowhere hello oblivion
Hello goodbye

Yes and everythings gonna be fine fo
Fine said things gonna be all ok
Said just don't breathe the air

He just sits and waits for them to kick in the door
He once was a hero they don't love him no more
This past, everytime a toe hits the floor

His gift for not fighting another mans war
And if they can get their hands on the mask
That he wore on his face
They can put somebody else in his place
And restore the state the illusion that hes safe
The faith that being enslaved is so great
As gas fills the room and rockets destroy everything around him
He stands to find himself surrounded
By thousands of soldiers that he once trained
And never missed their targets, heartless...

Hello darkness hello sunshine
Hello not at all hello all the time
Hello nowhere hell-oblivion
Hello goodbye

Hello darkness

Pleased to make your acquaintance
Salutations, Konnichiwa
Hello everyone... how are you i'm doin fine

Hello darkness hello sunshine
Hello not at all hello all the time
Hello nowhere hell-oblivion
Hello goodbye

Hey there darkness hey there sunshine
Hello not at all hello all the time
Hello nowhere hell-oblivion
Hello goodbye

Hello darkness hello sunshine
Dampen it...

Un... cool

Let me be Your Cynic

Its easy for you to turn the other way, pretend to be happy, think about the good times. Then lie. Lie about all that you say you stand for. Lie about your standards. Lie about your projected future. You've made your way into the smelting pot of society and you're damn well near the end of your shelf-life. You're close to expiring. You're up-in-arms and about to bear arms so that you can tell the man with no arms he is lucky.

You walk in a crowd and look at people as if you know them or recognize them from some place, but you don't. You pretend that you're life is complicated, but it isn't. You place your bet, but its too late. It something that you're going to have to deal with.

Fulfill The Dream

I saw her with another man walkin downtown

She’s not mine and she'll never be by my side walkin downtown

I’ve only met her once before

She was alone in a back booth

A drink and a cigarette

Smoking like she was waiting for someone

Me, stealing glances as she stole my breath

The next one's on me

May I take this seat?

The rest of the bar recedes

We talked on traveling back roads overseas

"Girl, a change sounds good to me"

she said,

"Who can find that kind of time?"

I’d only met her once before

She was alone in a back booth

A drink and a cigarette

Drinking like she was waiting for someone

Me, stealing glances as she stole my breath

The next one's on me

And after it's done

The sun comes up and she's gone

after it's done

You just move on

A night can show what's made plain by the sun

An Open Letter from Jack.

Here I am.. days, weeks, and months past my expiration date. You've kept me in the back of the freezer so that I don't go bad, but either way my core has started to turn. Part of it is my own doing... I could have been less stubborn, I could have catered to your demands but in the end I know this is best for me. You've left me in the middle of the ocean with no life raft. Hopefully one day I'll find your mainland, but it will definitely be on my terms.

Being around someone of your nature used to be like going 100 mph with the windows down... I didn't have a care in the world and no one else mattered to me.

I am Jack's Raging Bile Duct.

Growing up is something everyone must do, and with that most people learn not to be selfish. Most people is a group that you do not fall into. I am sorry, but that is the reality. At first that was a good thing, at the end I wished away your existence.

I am Jack's Cold Sweat.

All of this may seem harsh but I am partially happy to have been put through shenanigans such as yours. Because of it I know now not to fully trust everyone I meet, and have since gone on to meet many new and interesting people. If that is the one thing I have taken away in the year-plus since meeting you, I thank you for it.

I Am Jack's Complete Lack of Surprise

This has rendered me weathered and broken. Not broken in the sense that I can no longer function, broken in the sense that I know there is no completion to my being... I am just parts connecting to other parts making the best of the situation. The best way to describe the way I feel is like a tourist with a camera, and I'm okay with that.

I Am Jack's Smirking Revenge.

Whenever I take in the twilight, I feel absurd and physically irrelevant. The pace of life is seemingly fast but in reality we're nothing but a slight directional mass of molecules on a path of destruction. Keeping that in mind, I try to get to the end of that path with a minimum amount of blockades... something that cannot be done easily. For this, there is really no fix, but every Jack wants to hear her say "Its getting late... lets stay out as late as we can... we'll drive around the lake... just a little too fast." This is when Jack keeps his eyes on the lines and feels her head on his shoulder... and you're damn near perfection.

I Am Jack's Broken Heart.

Нет

[The title is in Cyrillic]

I feel that I will need to say no more often in life. Its not that I've been suckered into giving my time or that I've been too nice, its just a natural evolution that needs to take place.
Currently, I am re-evaluating my sense of self. In the past, I've committed to things that weren't necessarily ideal for me, but I still went through with them. I've allowed things to develop too fast and I've sacrificed my health among many other things in order to do things that I thought made other people happy.
It'll be called selfish... I'm okay with that.

Chapter Two: Exodus

There comes a time in everyone's life where you have to pick up the pieces and move on. I believe that I have reached one of those junctures. If I end up relapsing and not being able to move on, I know for fact that it will ultimately risk my happiness and sanity. The saying where one's professional success comes at the cost of their personal success could not apply more to me right now. I feel that all I have offered in terms of friendship, companionship, and loyalty has been rendered meaningless and that is a huge ego-crusher.
Right now, the fork in my path is one surrounded by fog. I've made choices, but they were not independently done. My choices were made based on other people's actions, and now more than ever, I am making choices that will benefit me.
I'll being hitting the road next summer.... It will likely be a road trip to California. That's insane I know, but it will liberate me and I know that I'm not running away from anything, I'll be running toward life. When I mentioned this to my mother she asked why. I told her it was a trip of a lifetime. She then reminded me that I have already been on a trip of a lifetime, when I went to Europe 3 years ago. I just figure that my trip to Europe was in my last lifetime, and I've changed so much since then... I've found myself in a different time in my life. A different lifetime.

When it comes down to it I know that the family and friends (at least the true friends) will still be on the same wavelength as me regardless of where I am situated geographically. As sad as it is to admit it-- "There's always Facebook!"

There isn't too much that can happen in the next year to change my mind. Barring some catastrophic event or the inclusion of somebody that can drastically change my life, I'm California-bound, a goal of mine that was set years ago.
It would be awesome to be able to achieve that goal. It'd be one of the few things I could cross off my bucket list. I figure I have some time left.

Peace&Love

BustedTees - The Original Octabong

The Original Octabong

Quite possibly the greatest party accessory available besides the outrageous party going friend, this Octabong (haha get it??) will bring you closer to your friends as you all backwash one another's saliva, and if you're lucky vomit. $45 seems like a decent price, and if this thing catches on, we will definitely see this in Old School Dos.....

Waiting...

A coma might feel better than this, 
Attempting to discover where to begin.
You're weighed down, you're full of something.
Of sickness, and desertion.
You're weighed down, you're full of something, 
You're underneath it all.

So say goodbye to love, 
And hold your head up high.
There's no need to rush
We're all just waiting, waiting to die.

Hoping a better place is all I need, 
With moments of innocence and mystery.
Oh, it's the little things you miss.
Like waking up all alone.
Oh, it's the little things you miss, 
When you're underneath it all.

So say goodbye to love, 
And hold your head up high.
There's no need to rush
We're all just waiting, waiting to die.

All your friends seem like enemies
When you're broken down and empty.
All your friends seem like enemies
When you're broken down and empty.

So say goodbye to love, 
And hold your head up high.
There's no need to rush
We're all just waiting, waiting to die.

48 HRS.

So, in the last 48 hours I've obtained two things: a car and a promotion. Wow.
Its great, I'm free and planning a trip to Boston for the 4th of July and I kind of want to retract the last post, because I'm no longer just getting by. I'm coasting to the coast and not letting anyone take the fight outta me.

Its Good to be Deadbeat

There's nothing like doing nothing. We're all heaven-sent, don't you dare forget... I am all you've ever wanted. I just needed you to know (I think in decimals and dollars).

Now that thats out of the way....

I'm getting by, just getting by, and I'm okay with that. Over the next few weeks I will not be able to account for my lack of punctuality. Its just something that I will have to do. I know next-to no one reads this, but I need to tell someone. At least I'm not pretending I don't want to get caught.

...I just wanna believe in...

I'm so controversial.

Language Expectations

A few weeks ago, I was at a local Cage Aux Sports during a Canadiens’ game, cheering for the Habs alongside friends and strangers. You would figure that if we all have a common passion then there really wouldn’t be room for differences to appear among the melange of Anglophones and Francophones. While this may seem to be lacking morally-related substance, the issue, a simple comment from the night’s animateur ends up being a cause for concern in the melting-pot that is the island of Montreal.

Most hockey fans know that anyone who is a fan of the Montreal Canadiens is a fan of a movement, a fan of the gritty intensity that is unique to the sport of hockey. When describing a true Habs fan, passionate is a vast understatement. This alone should unite said fans and allow any and all differences to be shed. That was not entirely the case when the young animator kept the crowd alive in between the first and second period by asking a few people to give their best rendition of the Canadian national anthem. Three people performed, up first at a table not too far from my own, a man in his mid-thirties with his wife and two children. He stood up with the microphone in his face and began: “Ô Canada! Terre de nos aïeux...”, and didn’t fare too well. Nevertheless, his kids had a laugh and were proud of their father at the same time. Next up was a drunken twenty-something out with his friends. He too started, albeit reluctantly, with the national anthem sung in French. The last person selected to give it their all was a young boy celebrating his birthday by watching the game with his elementary school friends. His performance, however, was a little different: “O Canada! Our home and native land...”. Once the boy finished singing, he received the loudest applause; mainly from the mothers and fathers accompanying the boy and his friends. He won a t-shirt for his trouble.

What happen next rendered me slack-jawed and speechless. The lovely Francophone being paid to work in the public and cater to the needs of her clientele said something along the lines of this: “Ben, il a gagné sauf il n’a pas respecté la Loi 101!”. I couldn’t believe that something so entrenched in the past, something fuelled mostly by ignorance had snuck its way into the walls of a restaurant where anyone should feel free and comfortable. On top of that, she singled out the boy for being English and mocked all the Anglophones in the room. Needless to say, that left a sour taste in my mouth even though I come from a largely bilingual family, but this just goes to show that some people are willing to go to extremes in order to preserve the culture of Quebec.

Let’s face it, the culture of Quebec has developed since the last separatist movement and will continue to do so. It is estimated that by 2012, the city of Montreal will be an Allophone majority, meaning that the mother-tongue of most Montrealers will be neither Anglophone nor Francophone. Either way, English Montrealers influence the Quebec culture just as much as Francophones, and the next step in the evolution of the culture is to incorporate the changes brought by the masses who are new to the city and country. The kicker here is that the Canadian anthem was originally scribed in French and was meaningful to many peoples across the nation of Canada. While most people in the room that night probably didn’t realize that, I find it odd that the animator chose to express her own personal meaning of the anthem instead of keeping things as unbiased as possible. I do this as much as possible simply because I work in the public just as she does. While political correctness is largely overrated, I keep my personal opinions private as long as I am being paid, something that many people should do when dealing with issues as sensitive as language in Quebec. I guess that the real issue is purely that—when you’re depended on and in the public eye, one should draw the line and be politically correct.

Day-to-Day with a Case of LIFE

This one goes out to all those that are no longer with us, and all those who are affected by the voids of life. A lot can be said about friendship and the bond that people share. Strangers is a word that will be used less often as our world progressively becomes smaller. Instead we will likely see words such as associate or frequenter. Its alarming to only a few, but there's no turning back. We (the human race) are looking into a magnifying glass and hoping that a pandemic wipes people off the face of the earth. Logically, if there is a real cause for concern, they're will be a draft for prime survivor candidates-- all those who are in top physical and mental form will get a pass to the second round, while the rest will be liquidated. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Of course this only happens after all the volunteering fails. Volunteered death... a sacrifice for the bastards of our race to live a bit longer.

Who do we carry the torch for?
Do we believe in anything?
Do we carry it around just to burn things down?
What did we learn?
We're a voice that never sings.
We are freezing over hell.
We are bringing on the end we do so well.
We can only blame ourselves.
Swept under the rug...
It worked on the campaign trail.

Thoughts Written Out

I really don't know what to think anymore. I mean, this girl is driving me insane (its cliched to say-- I know), and i can't stop thinking about how I'll likely fuck this up. If I do, does that mean i revert back into the comfort zone or do I branch out a little more? The odd thing is, even though I feel the way I feel, I still end up finding myself in situations that could land me in hot water..... or will it? See?! I don't know!

Is it shame? I think its fear. Probably fear.

I'm lining myself up to become broken. I've always believed it only builds more character and in turn you become a better person for it, but I underestimated how painful it would be.

The positive spin is how all of whats going on in my life now is sparking more and more creativity. It could be my growth as a human being. It could be my departure from certain aspects of my life. Clear and sober or high up my tree, its difficult for me not to be filled with words and ideas and emotions etc.... etc... etc..

Peace&Love

Wednesday's Events

Wednesday night started when Billy the Kid hit the stage and her raw voice hit the pickups of the mic. After a few songs and some banter dealing with her bassist's mustache; a revolutionary hit the stage and was one of the many highlights of the night. His name is Jared Paul and he has opened my eyes even more as to what is going on in the world today. He is a spoken word poet and a friend of many activist and artists. If you ever needed to hear what he has to say, now is the best time. Seriously.
Once Jared finished his set, Raine Maida was up, and it is unquestionably one of the greatest live shows I've ever been to. His wife, Chantal Kreviazuk had an amazing rendition of the Pixies' Where is my Mind? Her voice silenced the crowd as much as Jared's performance did: you could literally hear a pin drop in both instances. Back to Raine who was taken aback by the applause and support of the Montreal scene. He asked to take the crowd with him because of how great the applause and cheering was. I think this is because people from here know what is and is not relevant. We can filter out the bullshit and concentrate on what is real.
That entire night was truly inspiring and I urge you to look into anything that provokes your mind. I know I have. Look out for me.

Untitled

Photographs are not meant to capture a moment, they are meant to spark a memory.

Realized

So I've come to a few realizations tonight, some of which are relevant... others not so much. One is that I have a future in teaching. I really would enjoy having students and affecting their lives for the better. I'm not talking about guiding them to what I believe is right, I'm saying I can be a real teacher, and a cool one at that. So, for the first time, I can honestly make this statement: University, here I come! I'd be a pretty cool teacher. I can captivate an audience, although some people fall asleep to my voice. Pffft....

The second is that I haven't had a dream in months. I should make an appointment with a neurologist. They can help, or perform a lobotomy.

Lastly is that I will have a car within a months time. Certainty is key... I must believe before I can achieve.... thats an asinine thing to write. Either way, if I accomplish that it will set me on my way to the future that I now believe I have.

All of these revelations came to be because of a night spent with very good, very level-headed friends. I should definitely be with them more. They all seem to bring the best out in me and if they can motivate me and be my life's catalyst then I know they will be around forever.

Cadence

I've been exposed to levels of creativity recently that open my eyes considerably. It kinda makes me feel like the kid who gets picked last in gym class. I know thats not the reality of the matter, but I often wonder if I should have put more energy in other aspects of my life and if I still have time to do so. I don't believe those doors are shut. I think I need to drown the urge of permanence and certainty. I think that my creativity needs a way to be amplified. I think that I can no longer be anchored by my past decisions. Ideally, I'd get on the road and drive. Aimlessly. Drive across the continent and make my way to nowhere. Its just not that easy, so for now in entrenched in reality and realism and realestate of the realists.

Failure is not Flattering

So whenever you start off with something new, the last thing you want to do is fail. Jobs, projects, relationships. The last thing I want to do is fail at any of the things I listed, but if I succeed, who else fails. I apologize for the ambiguity, but I'm feeling pretty vague. I've always felt like I was born in the wrong decade, I live in the wrong time. Its not like I have a DeLorean that reaches 88; but I kinda wish there was a way I could experience another time.

The good news is that I'm doing all that I can to enjoy the now of life, and I can't help but think I've found someone to share that with... it may be soon, but I no longer feel like I am in an empty room.

Secrets keep people in business. I've got a few lifetimes-worth of secrets vaulted up. I listen to people and try to imagine their issues as a screenplay, trying to figure out what they opening credit sequence would look like to their biopic movie. If other people had the final cut of my biopic, I'd have some explaining to do. The perception others have of me is unique. My reality is problematic. "If people only knew" is the most appropriate saying.

Oxford Comma

"If it feels natural do you go with it?"

The answer should always be yes.

I can't really say why, but from experience you should say yes.... Every once in a while you should act spontaneously, it can only benefit you in the long run and add to your experience in life. I think I've been doing that for the past few months. I'm not so much becoming a different person, but I am actively writing new chapters of my life. This should be Chapter 6: Developing a Plan. That seems appropriate. I have chosen to be more methodical. This could be seen as a downfall to many people, many close friends especially. I can't justify my actions with the simple answers of my past. I've always been impulsive in what I say, sometimes that gets me in trouble, but it seems that most people appreciate it.

By no means do I live to shatter dreams, but in achieving my goals I will step on some toes.

The Chills

so, home, hammered and emerald-ed...

they say that sticks and stones can break my bones.... clickety clack!

i was about to be a godfather. the feeling was comforting and then fleeting and then gone.

ambiguity.


sunday is gonna be a day of wreckoning. as fun as it seems i miss me ill lady. i show her off as much as i can. she is changing my views. she beats my drum down in Mexico, Tijuana's here we go....

Jesse's cabilty is vital. I hate being forced into social contexts that are absolutely meaningless. I'm sorry.

AoTY en Spectacle

The Artist of the Year show was swell! Great performances from National Parcs and AoTY themselves. Super chill, super fun! I'm just super happy i got to see them live. There were some seizures to be had, and some beer to be consumed. All in all, a great night!

~~If it ain't dirty, it ain't fun!

Stalk-home Syndrome

So everyday, I've been dragging my ass onto the stupid bus so i could breathe in re-recycled air with about 80 other people who I likely don't know and there's always this one overweight, awful-smelling deaf guy who sits in the same seat and plays with his cell phone. I swear he's taking pictures of people. He's damn creepy. I though I'd only have to put up with that sloth in the morning when I'm half asleep and groggy. I was wrong. He got on the same bus on the ride home and insisted on placing the mass that is his body directly next to me. I looked at him, stared blankly, and turned and walked to the back of the bus. He is the definition of gross. I hate him and I don't even know the man.

I'm pretty excited about the Artist of the Year show tomorrow night, the downer is that I have to leave class early to get there for their set. This is the same class I've skipped to go car shopping among other things. Speaking of which, I'm set on a car. Its sweet. It will be mine!

From the Future to the Past

...plant a tree someday with all intentions of visiting it in thousands of years.

There's a healthy outlook. I mean you obviously won't live for a thousand years but you can intend on visiting it. Right? Right.

This is not a plug for the Arbor Foundation
"Come Thursday" he said, "I'll be on shrooms".

Meanwhile at Wayne Manor

You know that huge letdown you feel when you look at you cell phone and realize that you battery meter isn't full? When its two bars instead of three? Yeah, I think I'm coming to terms with constantly experiencing that. Constantly. I went to Campus Mackay lastnight. It was.... well, Cheers. With the exception of the doormen being different and the average age being above 18 that was it. The same old place. The same old feeling, except more awkward. There were enough people there yet it still felt empty.

I'm losing my voice.

Post-Travail Events

So I finished work at 5:30 today, wait. It was more like 5:50 by the time I got outta there. I went to Rogers to return a SIM card I had bought only minutes earlier and somehow found myself flirting with the odd-looking rep... in French! That rarely happens :P

After that I ran into a friend I haven't really seen in a while, she asked me to go to Chee... I mean Campus Mckay. I was also invited to the Irish Embassy, all the while I'm supposed to get au Centreville avec Vince a soir. Il est vraiment chill sauf il parle de son ex un peu trop....

The new 'group' consisting of former TBS lead guitarist Fred Maccia..something-or-other is, well... 'fun'. Its pretty innocent really. Very basic, like Lego blocks. Scratch that... like their cheap Canadian counterpart-- MegaBlocks... what?!

One last thing: NIXON WATCHES ARE THE COOLEST. They are... but the emails that they send you are fucking sweet! Seriously, they're hilarious, and I just received one reminding me about Day Light Savings....

...and then we can play all night.

Cross the street from your storefront cemetery
Hear me hailing from inside and realize I

I am the conscience clear
In pain or ecstasy
And we were all weaned my dear
Upon the same fatigue

You're staring at the sun
(Oh my own voice cannot save me now)
Standing in the sea
(It's just one more breath and then down I go)

Your mouth is open wide
The lover is inside
And all the tumults done
Collided with the sign
You're staring at the sun
You're standing in the sea
Your body's over me

Note the trees because
The dirt is temporary
More to mine than fact face
Name and monetary

Beat the skins and let the
Loose lips kiss you clean
Quietly pour out like light
Like light, like answering the sun

You're staring at the sun
You're standing in the sea
Your mouth is open wide
You're trying hard to breathe
The water's at your neck
There's lightning in your teeth
Your body's over me

(Be what you will
And then thrown down your life
Oh it's a damned fine game
And we can play all night)

By the summer of '96,

her body was cracked like porcelain...

People say that February is the longest month of the year. Its the shortest... hate to break it to you. I mean sure its cold and dark and depressingly repetitive but those reasons don't make it stretched out for anything more than 31 days.

Now that thats off my chest...


I miss my childhood. Not necessarily my youth-- I'm still young yo! I miss the innocence of being incapable of survival. Right now, I'm surviving and its shocking. Something dies when you grow older, but you do the best you can... the best hasn't been happening the last few days. I find the rewards (of my decisions) weren't half what I hoped for, so this puts me in a introverted mood. Hopefully its not mistaken for being depressed or a depression. I sometimes am tricked into thinking that. It could on the other hand, be seasonal. Its difficult to meet someone who despises summertime. There are so many ways to kill time its surreal. Summer in Montreal is great too. I like summer.

Erosion

"The same mistakes we made as cavemen" says Mr.
    Whittier, "we still make."
    So maybe we're supposed to fight and hate and torture
        each other...

Mr. Whittier rolls his wheelchair to the edge of the stage,
    with his spotted hands, his bald head.
    The folds of his slack face seem to hang
    from his too-big eyes, his cloudy, watery-gray eyes.
The ring looped through one of his nostrils, the earphones
    of his CD player looped around the
    wrinkles and folds of his beef-jerky neck.

Onstage, instead of a spotlight, a black-and-white movie
    fragment:
    Mr. Whittier's head is wallpapered with newsreel armies
        marching.
    His mouth and eyes lost in the shadow boots
        and bayonets that worm across his cheeks.

He says, "Maybe suffering and misery is the point of life."
    Consider that the earth is a processing plant, a factory.
Picture a tumbler used to polish rocks:
    A rolling drum filled with water and sand.
    Consider that your soul is dropped in an ugly rock,
    some raw material or a natural resource, crude oil,
       mineral ore.
    And all conflict and pain is just the abrasive that rubs us,
    polishes our souls, refines us,
    teaches and finishes us over lifetime after lifetime.
Then consider that you've chosen to jump in, again and
    again,
    knowing this suffering is your entire reason for coming to
       earth.
Mr. Whittier, his teeth crowded too many in his narrow
    jawbone,
    his dead-tumbleweed eyebrows, Mr. Whittier's bat-wing
       ears spread wide
    with the shadow armies marching across,
    he says,
    "The only alternative is, we're all just eternally stupid."

We fight wars. We fight for peace. We fight hunger. We love
    to fight.
    We fight and fight and fight, with our guns or mouths or
        money.
    And the planet is never one lick better than it was before
       us.

Leaning forward, both his clawed on the arms of his
    wheelchair,
    as the newsreel armies march over his face, those
       moving tattoos
    of their machine guns and tanks and artillery,
    Mr. Whittier says: "Maybe we're living the exact way we're
       meant to live."
Maybe our factory planet is processing our souls...just
    fine.

Grandma's Boy

So the maternal g-ma was in this weekend.... joy! I love her and all, but my tolerance level was near the mid-to-low 20%. Yeah... i rank my tolerance in percentages. Basically she was here for the moral support, help my mom post re-constructive surgery. I don't know how much of a help she was. I had to get out of the house as much as possible this weekend. Too many bodies. Like most other grandmothers, she has a mild drinking problem. Its admirable. I mean, its not like she's an alcoholic, No one in my family is an alcoholic.... :|

Note: I had gone out drinking the night she arrived and the day before her departure....she was here for 3 days

So I coped with being annoyed pretty much the same way everyone else in my family does.... no bigs. Anyway... I've been listening to the new Jack Johnson album a lot... probably because i've been sleeping through the static? yeah... probably. There is a lot of static in my day-to-day. Interference and feedback included. Its cool though, i know it'll fade out soon. I'd give it a week or so.

Untitled 04

I am feeling like a veteran,
Uncompensated for the blood I've left to pool on foreign grounds.
And I sometimes reach to rub at aching legs,
but they've been dust for over a decade,
And you're the limb I've lost but somehow I still feel it...

Until I awake, we just hope that you made it.
We hope that you're celebrating, with people you miss.
And burning like a beacon, guiding our ship around this hellish shoal.
I'm happy to admit that maybe I am a little depressed,
'cause I'm missing you to death.

And now, it's only records of my memory.
Some little thing you gave posthumously.
The details all dragged out.
To think, of all the paitings we would be without,
If Van Gogh had gone and died face down from loss of blood the night,
He went and hacked his ear off...

Old People

They pretty much suck. They are annoying and forgetful and smell like moth balls. I wonder how that stereotype started. Bottom line, I don't like the elderly.

Worst. Day. Ever.

So today was great, for about 45 minutes. The sun was out, the air was fresh... who am i kidding?!? Today, for whatever reason, got really shitty, really fast. I just felt so hostile towards everyone that would talk to me. I had an urge to punch people in the face. Seriously.

You know in movies when we get to see what people really wanna do to people, then we realize it was a fantasy sequence or something?? like in True Lies when Arnold destroys Bill Paxton's face with his massive forehead!

So yeah, i constantly had to restrain myself from drop kicking people. It was tough but I got through the day. I'm normally not like that.

So.... Slipstream, the Anthony Hopkins brainchild.... if it were an actual child, it'd be slow, i'm sure of it.... great concept, but a total mindfuck. Gotta hand it to the bloke, he's what?? 75?

República Dominicana

she's made contact....

fleeting feelings have been re-established,

order is momentarily restored.


If there is anything I should do, it is smile.

I am smiling.

No Habs No!

Damn Bob Gainey for his foolishness. I can only blame him because i can only assume that he intended on freeing up salary space so he could sign Hossa. He got beat out when the Pens over-valued Hossa. Why did Gainey trade Huet (for a 2009 2nd round draft pick might I add!) midday when there wasn't 100% certainty of signing Hossa?

Looks like the pressure of the Montreal media and fans rests on the shoulders of 19-year old Price... good luck kid.

Lost Associates

So I was on the bus heading home after a long day at work and I see this middle-aged, balding Asian man sitting down. I glance over and didn't think much, but I got closer and realized it was a guy that used to work with me! He's such a nice guy and I hadn't seen him in a while so i subtly tried getting his attention... He wanted none of it. Its a shame really, I was feeling a little down and he definitely would have changed my mood for the better. He's such a chipper guy and reminds me of an anime character (not because he's Asian, just because he's always bouncing off the walls).

It was cool to see his neurotic tendencies too-- he'd constantly check his watch. He wasn't late, he was never late before.... Christ, i remember getting to work for a 6am shift and he'd be waiting there for 20 minutes. A great guy, seriously.

gabba gabba hey!

i feel good, really good.... everything has fallen into place, some things have fallen more awkwardly... but they work. there's a lot to be said about belief. i can't quite explain it now but I'll be able to one day. before i kick....

many people live their lives fearing that their dreams will be haunted, well, what about their reality? my reality has been haunted since i was six... that's a weird thing to say but i believe it.

i once wrote my name on the wall at a sneaker shop. i was asked to by the owner. he told me that every time i come back I'd be able to visit it. i set out to visit this moment in history early last week... they closed down.
do you think the owner took the jiprock down and transplanted the wall? maybe he painted over it. maybe the new haute-couture underwear store has skeletons in there closets (or fitting rooms) and blood on their walls. by blood i mean the thousands of signatures printed on the owner's wall. failed relationships, tired bodies, users, addicts, and lovers... all on common wall.

I've met my maker, I've been seduced by the harlot, and now I'm slowly finding out who my dark passenger is. his arrival is eminent.

smile, you've won.