Saturday, February 28, 2009

Like That Time I Thought I Knew What I Wanted

IIIIIIIIIIIIT'S the last day of February. I'm going to post another stream of consciousness thing.

Sometimes my mind just takes off, it just takes off and goes and goes like it’s on speed. Like the time I said it was nice seeing you on the escalator the other day, only I didn’t say that I thought it quietly to myself but I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. I don’t know why I asked you what kind of music you like instead. I’m terribly exhausted right now but I’m still awake right now, waiting for you to answer me or for me to get fed up and just leave. Actually, I’m hoping that I’ll produce something brilliant tonight, my mind works best when I’m tired. Like that time I wrote a stream of consciousness essay for English class in grade 11 about death. It made absolutely no sense but my teacher loved it. I don’t know why. It was clearly bullshit. Sometimes I get away with things like that. Sometimes I don’t listen to music and I don’t realize the silence. I guess I don’t really have anything else to say about you. Actually, I know I don’t. That poem is true in many ways but it is also a big lie. Kind of like my life. I can’t write beautiful things like Riese does. In some odd way, I wish she would read my stuff and approve. I think that would mean a lot to me. Maybe it’s because I think we’re kindred spirits of some sort, though I don’t really know if I’m using that in the right context. We’re very similar is what I mean, I get her. When I read her stuff I know what she’s talking about. I’m good at analysing situations, and people. Afterwards, though. When I’m alone. I can see people very clearly. Maybe it’s for that reason I hate small talk. Maybe I just want to get to the point and prove myself right – that you’re this kind of person or that kind of person. I don’t know what kind of person you are because you keep surprising me. Like that time you came up behind me on the escalator, like that time you listened to what I was saying. Maybe you’re going to read this and maybe you’re going to know I’m talking about you. Maybe then you’re going to know the poem was about you. Don’t worry, I am not in love with you at all, simply the idea of you. That makes it worse. Does that make me shallow? Does it make me empty that I can’t see you for who you are.

Sorry I’m just revisiting this now. I mean I totes read it when you wrote it like 4 days ago but I’m revisiting it now because I don't think I realized you wrote something nice. I’m also in a stream of consciousness writing mood right now which I guess is why I’m coming back to this. Do you ever get in those moods? I hope I help to increase your will to live and restore your faith in humanity. Wait I’m going to copy and paste this into my original document, you're going to see it on Saturday. Goodnight. Really, I do, I hope I increase your will to live and restore your faith in humanity, ‘cause it’s there. I mean, everything that we need is here. I’m running away now, I guess. I don’t know where that came from, I was listening to music and I was on facebook and I was not writing this and all of a sudden that sentence popped into my head. And it’s my informal rule that when writing a stream of conscious I must just write, write, write, no matter how nonsensical it is. I like that word, nonsensical. There are, of course, pauses that you don’t see. But I try and fill those somehow, I try to make up for it and sometimes I can’t even see the end of the sentence but it’s important to keep typing, like my life depends on it or something. It’s so annoying that word still doesn’t capitalize my ‘I’s. I have to stop and backspace. It’s like I’m interrupting myself. I like streams of consciousness because I think it shows me for who I really am, despite how corny that sounds. I mean, I think it shows me in all my bare, I don’t want to say nakedness, but that’s what I mean. It shows me like primitive living. Like this is all I have, this is what’s in my head and sometimes it’s crazy but it sure as hell feels good to just dump everything onto a page. I’m literally recording my thoughts as they happen. It’s jumpy because sometimes I stop and talk to other people. Like right now when someone reminded me of that time in grade 7 or 8 when Tania shouted “I’m not a baby!” and smashed her yogurt on the table and it exploded everywhere. I said something about the escalator. I’m back in real time now, real moments. Sometimes I gotta reminisce. There’s silence on the other end. I can’t even bother to worry about what you’re thinking. I don’t really care. To me you’re an idea, a form, an outline. I don’t think this is the blogging way of writing. This is just how I write. And now, for real, goodnight.

On second thought, the letter to Alessia taken out of context sounds really nice. “Sorry I’m just revisiting this now.” I like that, I like the way it sounds. Sorry I’m just revisiting this now.

I'm not going to ask you to comment because no one does. But you can if you want to.

"But really nothing has changed, today.
You can't go on this way, you can't move on.
Erase it,
Start it again."
- Sparta "Erase It Again"

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Life's Unanswerable Questions: Day 38

What day is it? Day 38! I'm losing track! This is getting stupid! I feel like there was something I had to tell you guys but I really can't remember right now. Anyways I'm about to go on a rant about nothing, enjoy.

It's up for grabs. You know that feeling when you're in between something? Like late May when school is done but summer hasn't officially started. I've got that feeling now, like I'm waiting for something, waiting for the next wave of life to come at me. I don't really know what to do with myself, all my events seemed poised for the "distant" future. What's happening tomorrow? I really have no clue. It's up for grabs. Does anyone want to make my day? Can I make my own day exciting? The weeks are passing pretty quickly. I was surprised to find how close we are to midterms. It's a nervous excitement, a sort of wonder that it's almost March, it's almost spring, I might see green grass soon. I might be able to wear a sweater outside soon. I might be able to wear my converse and not have frozen, wet feet. It's up for grabs, really. The day can be anybody's moment. I could be anything.

I don't really get spring cleaning. I mean, as of right now it feels like a really bad time to be throwing things out. I know it's not spring yet, but I'm thinking it's gotta come pretty soon. If there's any time to be cleaning shit up, it's the end of August. That's when I would have a garage sale. Of course, I hoard everything and am materialistic and idealistic and romantic and can't part with anything because I'm afraid I might need it at some point in my life 20 years down the road so I'll be carting everything I own with me forever as I accumulate it over the years. I probably should do some cleaning, some weeding (this is not a reference to drugs), I know it would make my step-mom really happy.

Okay I actually remember what I was going to talk about. It was the general collapsing of emotions. Sometimes the smallest hurts trigger the biggest pains. What am I talking about? My friend had a knee injury and has finally recovered, only today somebody accidentally hit it. She cried, but I recognized that kind of crying. It probably hurt a lot, but it wasn't fucked up again. It hurt a lot but also, the world hurt a lot. I know that kind of crying, I've done it so many times.
"The last song on the record is dedicated to people who are alone. I mean, like alone and you stub your toe and you fall on the ground and you sob hysterically into the ground and you're like, 'What is wrong with my life?'" - Sara (Tegan and Sara)
Right??? It's not really cause you stubbed your toe that you're crying. It's because it's one too many things that hurt. Now, I've been feeling really good lately (by lately I mean last 4 months). If I stub my toe I will probably swear a lot and move on. But I've been there before, when I used to just lie on the ground and wonder 'What the fuck is going on' and it's like what Riese (this girl called automatic win) said, I never really expected an answer. I still don't. But I guess I'm asking myself those kinds of questions less and less. I mean I still wonder, I'm still afraid, but I guess I've learned to distance myself from those fears. I'm actually not sure if this is a good thing. I guess it's good because I'm happy, but I haven't felt anything so passionately in a while. I miss that a little bit. I miss feeling very passionate, very intense. I miss feeling on the edge of something big. Now I feel stuck, I feel like I'm waiting, like I'm staring down a flat plain, a straight road right in front of me. I'm waiting for something to hit me, to wake me up or knock me out. Maybe I'm waiting for reality or what used to be, the way things were when everything seemed too big. I wrote a lot more in my journal then.

So far this post has been about nothing. But I hope you learned something about anything. Maybe you learned that I am vague about everything. Did you discover something about yourself? Are you nodding your head in agreement as you read along? Feel free to comment about how nonsensical this all is, or how, despite the nonsense, sometimes it makes perfect sense. Sometimes the abstract feels real.


No, really. Sometimes the only consolation in life is that someone views it the same way as you. If you share something with me, then good, keep it and remember that you're not alone. I won't know that we share a common bond of understanding, but that's okay. Seriously.

Monday, February 23, 2009

Music Monday: Best Concept Albums

Guess what? I've decided to start a music Monday! Why Monday? Because of the alliteration with music and 'cause I'll have all weekend to write it when I should be doing homework. It's probably mostly going to be just a random song that came up on my iTunes and maybe I'll post a soundclip if I can figure out how. I have 1686 songs on my iTunes so that's pretty much 1686 Mondays which is um, 32 and a half years. JK I won't do a song every Monday, that's unrealistic, it might be a song or an artist or an album or a genre or something else completely unrelated like what I ate for dinner last night (chicken and mashed potatos) or the colour of my socks (white).

I'm starting off today with something special because it's what gave me the idea to do this. The title of this post is misleading. By "best" I mean "my favorite" and by "concept album" I mean "album that must be listened to starting from track 1 to the end of the cd in order and may employ recurring themes throughout the album and though individually the songs are incredible, their full potential can only be realized when listened to consecutively from beginning to end". Some of the albums I'm about to mention don't have recurring themes which is why they're not necessarily "concept albums" and I had to make my own definition.

Top 9 Concept Albums
Because I can't find a 10th one to even this out.

9. Green Day - American Idiot

Okay, I know Green Day kind of sold out with this album but that doesn't take away the affect it had on me. My dad brought this home for himself in 2004 and I just remember thinking (it's been 5 years?!?) Oh this is the band that wrote When I Come Around and popped it in the cd player. I was forevermore a fan until now when I am not really obsessed anymore. But! American Idiot is a perfect example of a concept album (a real concept album) because it is a story. We are introduced to St. Jimmy and the Jesus of Suburbia who are actually alter egos if I remember correctly. Anyways, this album holds my favorite Green Day song (Letterbomb) as well as a couple of other epics and we all know GD made history and became huge with this. Just as a sidenote, their live dvd Bullet in a Bible is pretty awesome too - they can really rock it live.

8. Rogue Wave - Asleep At Heaven's Gate

Rogue Wave has to be one of my favorite bands. I only got into them last year right before the Death Cab concert because they were the opening act and I decided to check them out. After the concert I bought Asleep at Heaven's Gate and I don't regret it for a second. This album is not a concept album like American Idiot, but the silence after the last track is so comforting it's like being laid on a cloud and I feel like I won't need to ever hear any sound ever again. Harmonium and Cheaper Than Therapy might be the best opening and closing tracks (respectively) I've ever heard on an album. Rogue Wave is kind of like Band of Horses, with beautiful melodies and harmonies and weird lyrics, only better.

7. The Decemberists - Crane Wife

I got into this band also because of DCFC, well really Chris Walla, because everytime I searched his name in brackets someone would mention that he produced for The Decemberists. The Decemberists are really catchy, especially Crane Wife, which kind of has a recurring theme. In any case, this album is quite brilliant; it's dark and sinister and feels very epic. The songs really flow together, which is what makes it such a good "concept album". I'm always kind of sad when it's over. Like American Idiot, Crane Wife has two ~10 minute songs placed at either end of the track list and I think it's a cool format and more bands should try it though it does take considerable skill to write a 10 minute song without boring the shit out of people.

6. Sarah Mclachlan - Mirrorball
Wow, it took me a while to find a picture of Sarah Mclachlan 'cause for some reason it felt really awkward to post a picture of her without a guitar. And then something wonky happened with the HTML and it wouldn't let me type on the left! Now I'm so frustrated I have to listen to Sarah Mclachlan who soothes me with her Canadian voice. Everyone knows who Sarah Mclachlan is right? She's the one who wrote "I Will Remember You" and captured the hearts of people everywhere who have hearts (and ears). Well, Mirrorball is her live cd release thing, and holy shit, if you only want to buy one Sarah Mclachlan album, buy this one. I actually didn't buy mine, I found it. Best! Find! Ever!

5. Modest Mouse - We Were Dead Before The Ship Even Sank

What do you do when you're in Amoeba in San Francisco and you can buy anything you want? Go out on a limb and buy something you're not quite sure of, which is obvs what I did with Modest Mouse or else I wouldn't be telling this story. Isaac Brock is a lyrical genius, really. He's right up there with Conor Oberst which is saying something (!!). The lyrics carry the album as well as the gritty sound and bitterness which make me imagine Brock drunk in a bar stumbling around at 3 am. Personal favorite songs on this album: Missed the Boat, and Little Motel. Modest Mouse also boasts a lineup which includes Johnny Marr, ex-guitarist for The Smiths. Like come on. Just go buy their shit already.

4. Bright Eyes - Lifted or the Story is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground

Oh, Conor, Conor, Conor. If I could write one song as well as him I think I would retire my guitar forever. How does he do it?! I think the answer is drugs and alcohol. I was having a conversation with Amanda the other day and she was saying how the "tortured artist" is redundant, 'cause artists are tortured by nature. Conor writes some pretty fucked up stuff, maybe that's why he's so brilliant. This is one of my favorite Bright Eyes albums.

3. Okkervil River - Black Sheep Boy

Okkervil River is a recent discovery for me but they've quickly become a favorite. I'd heard lots of good things about Black Sheep Boy (apparently it's their best album) so I went out and bought it. It's lived up to expectations. Black Sheep Boy is a true concept album (one of the few on this list) but each individual song carries it's own wave of delicious heartbreak. Interestingly enough, Black Sheep Boy (the opening track) is not an original composition but I love how they turned a small idea into a whole album. I'm waiting for Okkervil River to write a 10 minute song like The Decemberists.

2. The Smashing Pumpkins - Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness

Okay, I have a few things to say about this. First, Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness has to be my favorite name for an album ever. Ev-er. Second, it holds some of my favorite Smashing Pumpkins songs like Take Me Down and Beautiful and Bullet With Butterfly Wings. Honestly, this album is epic. It has two discs and the whole thing just feels so romantic, but an edgy kind of romantic. Romance with a knife. Billy Corgan was, and always will be, very, very strange.

1. Pink Floyd - The Wall

The Wall: A concept album. A brilliant, yet simple concept. Why? Because we all build walls. You know, those metaphorical walls. I talk about them sometimes. The Wall features some of Pink Floyd's best stuff, though some would argue The Dark Side of the Moon is better, but that is not for us to debate today. There is a movie that is part drawing part real acting based on the story of the wall. Well, not based on, it IS the story, I guess. It just brings to life the music. I would love to watch it stoned one day, Pink Floyd is so psychaedelic and trippy.
"Vera, Vera! What has become of you? Does anybody else in here feel the way I do?" Pink Floyd - Vera
I could quote them forever. Right? Anyone who likes Pink Floyd knows what I mean. They're all-encompassing.

Also, I realize you are not commenting on my comment post to spite me. That's okay. You can comment on posts from last week. Who is anonymous saying I love you? CAUSE I LOVE YOU TOO whoever you are, I hope it's someone I know or else JK, I don't love you.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

A Lesson in Geography: How to Navigate the Comment Section

[note from editor 2/20/09: I KNOW PEOPLE HAVE READ THIS they keep telling me at school, still there are no comments, srsly kids, I'm disappointed in you. I'm leaving this up so you can redeem yourselves.]
Hi! It appears there is a problem with the comments on my blog, i.e, there are none (jk, there are a few). After talking with a few people, I have discovered the root of this problem and the root of this problem is not that you don't love me, it's that you just don't know how to show your love! So today's post is HOW TO LEAVE A COMMENT therefore after these very detailed instructions I expect millions of (nice, loving, delusional) comments that are hopefully not anonymous (but if you want to say something mean and are too afraid to write your name then that's okay too). I even put pictures because I'm bored and though I believe most of you are intelligent human beings, the fact that you couldn't figure out how to leave a comment worries me (I love all of you very, very much in spite of this).

Read the blog post. Stop. Contemplate. When you have finished that, click on "comments", like in the picture. Easy so far? Wait! It gets harder!

Next: A new window will pop up, which's great 'cause now you can follow the instructions at the same time!

The next part is a little tricky because it requires some creativity on your part! First, think about how condescending I'm being right now. Does it make you angry? Do you want to share your opinion? Yes you do. Where it says "leave your comment" and there is a blank white space, type your thoughts and emotions like it was your diary.

Great. On the right of the pop up window there is a scroll bar. Scroll down, all the way down. It will say "CHOOSE AN IDENTITY" and you have the following choices:

1. Google/blogger [if you have this, you probably don't need to be reading this]
2. OpenID [I don't know what this is.]
3. Name/URL [omgz you don't need a blogger account to leave a comment?!!1? I can write my name?!]
4. Anonymous [which no one is going to click on, also I realized I spelled anonymous wrong in my fake comment]


Also, I took these pictures while signed in and writing this post, so don't get confused by the word verification. Yours will look something like this. Okay? Okay. All you have to do is type in the random letters they give you! I know you can do it!

Now we're almost done. Click Publish Your Comment and voila! It'll be beautiful, like you.

So now that you know how to do it you can start practicing on this post.

I love all of you, goodnight.

"I don't know what notes you want to hear played, can't think what lines you'd like me to sing or say, not sure what subjects you want mentioned. So just pause and add your own intentions, right here."
-Okkervil River "The Latest Toughs"

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

We Are Dawson: Dream Big (Day 30)

I'm pretty sure the people this is written for are not going to read this, but then again I'm not really sure who I'm writing this for.

Montreal, I'm starting to like you. East Coast, you're showing me a better side. Maybe it was Washington, it must've been Washington, it must've been the spring weather, the buildings and streets which were so concrete and so cold but so refreshing. Maybe it's the Montreal night life, maybe it's someone I met, maybe it's Dawson, maybe it's mememe, or the weather, or the start of something new. Montreal, I'm starting to appreciate you [unintentional rhyme].

I think I love and hate that I didn't play the final game of the tournament. I think the people that need to read this are not going to read it, then again I'm not sure who those people are. I think I managed to hold it all together, I know I cheered a lot, I know I was positive, I know that it tore me up inside. When Rougeau sat next to me and said that This was it, we need a big shift from you, Choo, come on, I nodded and didn't say anything cause I knew there was no next shift for me. And she went on and she came back and I was still sitting there, the same place I sat all game.

I guess I should've seen it coming, right, not like I didn't work hard or played badly, no, this is what I signed up for, being a rookie and all. This is what I agreed to and I knew it, I'm surprised it came so late in the year and I wish it had been any other game and I wish so many things about this but it's over now. We won. I did my part, the best that I could, 'cause it's no use crying, and I won my own battle by overcoming that. I fought my own battle on our own side and I won in my own way.

And it's not a question of deserving or punishment, no, there are people who deserved it more than I did at other times than these. There are times when I should've been benched and I wasn't. Those things don't matter, it's a small step on a larger scale. I know that I am one of many, or one of a privileged group, and this was not a defeat on my part but a victory for all of us.

Only one person has said something to me about it, and I appreciate it more than anything. The tournament was a challenge, for us as a team and for each of us as individuals. It's nice that mine was acknowledge, if only by one person. It means something because others have failed in my position. So, thank you, you know who you are. And I don't think you'll read this, but at least this time I know who this is for.

Montreal, I'm happy to be back. It felt like a long time, five days. I know I'll want to leave again soon, but for now, for now.. you're alright, Montreal.

"Here is where loveliness can live with failure, and nothing's complete.
I love how we go on."
-Stephen Dunn "Loves"

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Saturday: Day 27, Another Day, At Least It's Not Monday

This is a blog about how I can say a lot of things without really saying anything. All I am good at writing is abstract nonsense that means nothing. How will this ability get me a job. I read something interesting at my favorite blog of all time, this girl called automatic win, which is why she is my favorite.

She says: Lately I've been fine with putting periods at the end of questions. Maybe I've stopped expecting answers.

This is my favorite and least favorite thing about the internet. When I read this red flashing lights and waving flags went off in my brain and they yelled CONNECTION, CONNECTION. This happens to me a lot when reading things on the world wide web. Unfortunately we never actually get to share that connection. So, if you read this and other things here, and lights flash in your mind, come talk to me. I like it.

Yesterday I took a little tour around Dupont Circle in DC and went to American University to visit Katrina F. Casino. It was special, I can't put it in words. I laughed a lot. And that's the kind of connection I'm talking about. Now that I've taught her how to leave a comment maybe she will.

DC is a nice kind of city I guess, it has that American feel to it. One section really reminded me of Berekely, which is the only American city where I can say I kind of know the area. In that sense, it felt a little bit like home. Funny how you can feel more at home when you're away from home. There was a moment in the morning when the sun was coming up and the air felt crisp like spring when I felt really good. I felt comfortable. I would never think about living in DC, but I would definitely come back. I like that they call the metro the metro and not the subway. I don't like that they don't give you change.

Oh yeah, today is Valentine's day, which is meaningless to me. I don't feel "more alone". I feel like I don't care. There's this guy on the phone saying that today is valentine's day and it should be special for everybody. Hey buddy, everyday should be special.

And it is.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Sometimes This Is All I Know

Day 24. To the one whom I cannot name; thank you. You don't know who you are, but maybe you will one day. To the one whom I cannot name; I had a perfect idea and this is it. Sometimes this is all I know.

I love you like a character in a book,
one who will never change because your soul
is pressed forever in the pages, but
will also grow as I grow, and I will learn new things from you
as I learn new things about myself.
This love is a constant discovery.
I love you because you jump with me.
I love you because you take me everywhere. We fly
everywhere together, you in my mind,
it's not a guest bedroom, it's a shared room.

I love you more than flowers, which remind me of my mother,
more than tulips and roses, more
than the memory of gardening in the front of the old house,
because you are here now,
you are real.

I love you more than love,
which I love a lot because it is the thing that has kept me safe
in the darkness of my room.
Love reminded me that I was human,
it kept me attached to the earth when everyone else
had let me go. It reminded me that I can feel,
that I'm alive.
I love you more than that living feeling,
more than the ropes that tied me to the ground,
because you are the ground, you are the earth.
You keep me grounded, you let me fly.
You take me out, you take me home.

I love you because you are the sky and
I love to light fireworks across your skin
I love you because I don't know you
and I want to get to know you.
You attract me, you intrigue me, you make me curious,
you make me want to know what it's like behind your eyes.

I love you because you're not mine,
I love you because you're all I have.

I love you more than Saturday morning,
more than photographs because I never
need to remember anything when I'm with you.
Who needs memory,
I only remember the curves of your wrist,
I only remember nothing at all about you, but
I love you.
I love you more than memories.

I love you more than a character in a book
which I love a lot, I love books a lot,
I love you more than reading them.
I love you more than the ink on a page that will never change,
only stain.
I love you because there's more to you than
26 repeated letters in different combinations.
I love you more than books.
I love you more than reading
and writing
and reading my writing because truthfully
there is little honesty in these words.
I love you the way I say I do,
I simply do not know who you are.

I love you more than birds, which are free
and love is free and boundary-less.
I like you more than that.
Birds are tangible,
Love is quick to catch fire,
embers burn long into the night.
I love you longer than night,
longer than the spread of eagle's wings,
the length of light from the sun on water.
Love is not so measurable as the sky,
which has limits,
but not the mind, which is so easily interrupted
but steady in its perseverance.

"Though I know I'll never lose affection
for people and things I've loved before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
in my life, I've loved you more.
In my life, I love you more."
The Beatles - "In My Life"

Monday, February 9, 2009

Ballad of Big Nothing (I Don't Go Where I'm Supposed To Go)

Day 22. I've been working on a "project". JK, it's basically an ongoing stream of consciousness that has been going on for 3 days now. I'll post it in segments because it's too long, and also neverending. Literally, until I stop thinking.

Can the world get any brighter, shinier, clearer? I’d like to shed some light into the dark cracks and crevasses where shadows lie. I tried to make a playlist of the saddest songs I know, none seemed sad enough. I guess that’s okay. Ashlee, I miss you. Not physically though. No, I miss the comfort of you in my head, the solid book that you were, whatever you were to me, I miss the certainty. I see someone who looks like you from the back at school sometimes. It scares me. I don’t want to see what her face looks like. I’m thirsty. I just woke up from my cocoon, I’m not a butterfly yet though. Not yet. But I’m always thirsty when I wake up, maybe the air in my room is too dry. I’ve got that feeling coming back to me again. I felt its presence so strongly last night, I wanted to tell it to go away; instead I cried. I cried ‘cause the monsters were back. By morning they’ve disappeared again, but they left an aftertaste. I’d like to listen to a life changing song. I haven’t heard one in a while. I’d like to listen to a song that makes me fly, or one that explains some unknown, hidden part of my life to me. Sometimes I want to write that song. I wonder why word doesn’t automatically capitalize my ‘I’s. I wonder how I can change this. I wonder how I can change a lot of things, like

It’s funny that I paused right there. There are so many things I want to change that the thought of listing them is overwhelming, I have to leave it blank. I did think of my room though, what can I change in my room. Nothing, I don’t think. I’d like to live on my own, maybe, but as soon as that thought enters my mind I know it’s the wrong thought. I doubt my ability to make it on my own. I’ve had confidence before; I’ve felt ready to move away, to start over, to build my own life not the life I was born into. But I’ve been doubted by all the adults in my life, my grandmother, my aunt, my dad. What are you going to eat, they ask. You’ll get sick of Kraft Dinner and ramen noodles. I guess they’re saying that because they’re not actually thinking that I’ll move out soon. I’m scared that if I move nothing will change. A while ago, and by that I mean years ago, the truth hit me that it’s not my geographic location that makes me miserable. It’s me. It’s my own self doubt, my own insecurities. I’m trying really hard to fight them all. I’m trying really hard not to be depressed, trying really hard to make something of myself, to live, to become a person, a real person, alive, alive. I’m trying to connect with other real live people. It’s interesting I guess. Everything is an experience. I’ve met lots of people, I don’t think I know them very well. I don’t think they know me, I don’t know how to let people get to know me. I’m trying to not be layered. I’m trying, I guess, to just be simple, be simply me, whoever that is. I’m trying to do things on impulse, whatever the first thought that comes to mind is, I’ll do it ‘cause I want to be natural. I don’t want to lie about myself anymore. I want a lot of things, so many things. I don’t want to pretend. Whatever I am, I am! I’ll just be. I’ll chase whatever runs in front of me. It’s hard to connect with people when you try to be yourself because so many people are not themselves. I guess I’ll have to finish this later. It’s funny that the life in my brain gets interrupted by the life of someone else. The home I’ve built in my brain is strange but so comfortable, hostile and poisonous but safe, oh so very safe.

I love the logic of oxymorons and how paradox helps us not to feel insane.” - Stephen Dunn.
Hasn’t this proved to be so true. Who could ever live here but me. Those who come knocking will eventually leave. I’ll build extra rooms for them, clean rooms with new sheets and a fridge. They can come and go as they please, they can trample through my room to get to their room, my poisonous room. They can set up there, and I realize that even on the inside of my brain, I’m on the outside. I would give up my brain for someone else to live inside.

I love these moods, these in between moods, where everything flows in a straight line, or wades, or floats like dandelion fluff through the air, through my brain, slowly so I can catch it the first time around. It’s moods like this that allow me to do anything, to fully realize the potential of all moments, like in movies when they slow everything down so you can understand. The moments don’t last forever, but moods like this remind me that I can make them. I can make my own moments. I just want to sit with someone and smile. Sit and smile. I want peace within myself, I mean, I want to stop waging war with whatever I have. It’s only me right now. The place I occupy in my brain, the rooms I rent out, they’re empty now. Only the cobwebs of my thoughts, white and meaningless, remain. There is me and my mirror, a truth teller, hard to look at. I’ve left a room open for you, for you, person who has a place on the inside of my brain but not yet on the outside of my life. There is a place for you.

I want to empty the contents of my heart. I want to pour out the letters that alone mean nothing, and put together in certain ways can create words that make sense. Words that explain something, anything. I love being in love. I love shifting over in my brain, making room for someone else to settle down for a while. I don’t think they’ll ever stay, but I try to be good, not hazardous, not intruding, not overbearing, not the terrible things I can become when I’m so close to what I want. But it can be such a good feeling. I love to feel so passionately about something, anything, someone, somebody, just anybody, another real person who will invite me into their brain. I would like to understand somebody completely. That is a very hard thing to do. I find that people are often looking for the same thing as I am, but there is a lot of miscommunication, I’m always looking beyond, there must be something better because I don’t understand this person. This person is not comfortable. No, I have not met a lot of comfortable people. They are harsh, crisp, they taste like winter. I’d like to open my heart, empty the books I’ve written in there, perfect words will just lie there in someone’s hands, and their hands will open and the words will fall out. Or my books will make a new home in someone else’s heart. I would like to write something beautiful. I wonder if I have already, somewhere. I’d like to tell the truth. I’ve become but a ghost, a shadow, an outline of the person I thought I might be. I never knew what to expect of myself, I don’t know who I’ve become but it is someone. For some reason I always thought doorstoppers were foolproof. I didn’t realize they wouldn’t withstand a hard pushed door, multiple times. Sometimes that happens, the wood peels away. The things we meant to happen just don’t turn into anything, we fall flat on our face. The door knob goes through the wall. That was ages ago, wasn’t it Ashlee. Weren’t you the one I did it for. I can never hope for things so ridiculous although it has become almost impossible not to. I’ve held on to an unwavering bright light of hope that

I don’t know what. I don’t know what I’m hoping for, but it’s something good. I’m hoping that there’s a bed for me at home, someone warm to curl up next to, stairs to walk down in the morning and a lot of sunlight outside, a bus that comes on time, and then places, I hope there are places I can go. I hope I have some place to go, some place to return to, a space in time in the crowded world that is just for me. I can get lost in the space in my brain. The static electricity, the lights turning on and off by themselves, the laughter in other rooms right next door. Sometimes my neighbours are quiet and I don’t know which is worse, the lonely silence or the knowledge that happiness is right beside me, separated only by the walls I built myself. Painstakingly I have built those walls, carefully, stone by stone or brick with my metaphorical hands. It’s all a metaphor in my brain but it’s a clutch. What I have left when people leave is the wall, keeping out no one, a wall that has served no purpose except to block my view. I am left to admire what I have built, while people outside laugh. They laugh because they don’t know what is behind the wall, nothing too interesting. It’s been there for too long to create questions anymore.

Please comment.

"I'm so sick and tired of trying to change your mind
when it's so easy to disconnect mine
High times, yeah I feel fine
Don't pick me up, I'm fine right where I am
I don't go where I'm supposed to go."
Elliott Smith - "High Times"

Friday, February 6, 2009

Wishing and Hoping: Day 19

Sometimes I go out on a limb and it breaks. The fall hurts. The higher I climb the more painful the ground feels when I land on it. It's a bit of an ironic hurt. Like the farther you reach, the more heartbreaking it is to find yourself at the bottom again.

I expect to fall a lot. I hope I don't. The difference is I can change my expectations. I can't change what I really and truly desire. Falling is the hardest part. No one wants to fall, yet somehow we all do. We all end up on our backs and we all end up getting up again.

I don't want to expect or hope for things anymore. How can I do that? I can't. All I do is hope. I hope for the highest fucking branch there is. All I do is keep climbing. All I feel is bitter disappointment, a heavy heart, a grim determination, a sense of frustration that WHY, why is it like this, why do things have to be this way. I don't know. Some things just are.

Hope is perhaps one of the most misleading things I know.

It's alright, right? It's alright. Right. I got nothing. The disappointment of falling again is a little hard to stomach. It's time to continue moving forward. I gotta remind myself not to stay static, if nothing else I'll crawl. I'll crawl to the fucking top.

"First we'd climb the tree, then maybe we'd talk
or sit silently and listen to our thoughts
with illusions of someday casting a golden light
no dress rehearsal, this is our life."
The Tragically Hip - Ahead By A Century

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Day 17: Still Counting

Okay, so I know I've been slacking a little bit on the blog, I apologize to my three devoted readers, one whom I get to see in a week, how exciting!

Anyways, this is what's been going down:

STM workers are still assholes. If I was a cartoon character I would be saying "%*&#^*(*(&^" all the time to them.

I'm going to Washington next week.

My new year's resolution is slowly slipping away from me as I get less and less motivated and more and more tired.

I'm editing a video but 1) the sound is shit
2) it's not very entertaining therefore
3) it's going to be very short therefore
4) I will end up spending massive amounts of time editing something that's probably only going to be 1 minute long therefore
5) my new year's resolution gets put on the backburner

I can't really think of anything else right now. I'm ready for bed but I have to read this chapter for my politics class taught by the human who wins the award for biggest display of douchebaggery ever. That is all.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

I'll be Curled on the Floor Hiding Out From it All

I think I am one of the most socially retarded people ever. I just cannot carry a conversation. After the how-are-you's are exchanged, I smile awkwardly and leave the room. Either I'm like "what's going on" or "ok" and both of those are not good ways to present yourself as an intelligent person. People who have only met me once probs think I am a monkey in disguise. That's why I like to stay inside and live in the world wide web 'cause it's harder to look like a dumb shit, unless you are SO incredibly lazy that you have to save ALL THIS TIME by typing "u" instead of "you" then I look down on you and judge you. To your (internet) face. Just sayin', it makes me think that you've never opened a book before. I just kind of want to poke those people with a pitchfork sometimes. For the most part I hold back on judging people and I'm very open minded, but if you do not have some kind of disorder (dyslexia) and your native language is English, and you type like a three year drooling on the keyboard and you write things that make you sound like a drooling three year old, I do judge you. This is also why I'm a pretentious liberal arts snob, but don't get the wrong impression, they're not all as retarded as I am. They're more charismatic and friendly, which (kind of) brings me back to my original problem of being socially inept.

I also just want to throw out there another one of my general flaws, is bailing at hard times, ie, I will NOT STEP UP TO THE CHALLENGE that I most likely started in the first place. Sometimes I do. But a lot of the time I just say "no". Rereading this mini paragraph makes me realize that it's hard to decipher and I'm just talking crazy to myself.

That being said, I think this just goes to show that I'm very good at analysing myself. I'm very aware of all my flaws, thank you, I like to confront them in ways that people can't give me harsh criticism, i.e, by writing it here. See, hiding again. I'm so predictable.

One real problem I actually have though is, what do I change and what should I leave alone? There's this prayer thing, and I'm usually not into Jesus and the Bible and whatnot, but it really touches a chord with me, and I'm about to go off into a tangent here so bare with me; isn't that what religion's all about? Not really, but I mean, if just one thing, one prayer or something else religious I have no idea what makes you feel better, then doesn't that serve the whole purpose of god? Now I'm totes talking crazy shit but from my point of view, god is supposed to bring comfort and make you feel less alone. Religion has obvs turned into something else, but I like that simple sort of blind faith that things will get better. I like to hold on to that. Anyways, prayer time:

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference."

Now I obviously don't have this wisdom which often leaves me in a state of confusion. To save myself from thinking hard and making choices and solving problems I often wish I could hide under my blankets all day, sometimes I do, it never really helps anything in case anyone was thinking of trying it.