une belle année ou quoi

oh no?

or was it?

what happened?

who cares?


just a little older

is all

a little younger

a little sadder

a little happier



i did some terrible

or

impressive

things



more time

inside me

or

less?



ah

who cares

kiss me

you ain't gonna find me, 'cause i'm not who i used to be

forgot to post this on monday.

[alabama shakes - i ain't the same]

this album is soso surprisingly good, and the alabama shakes deserve every bit of recognition they're getting right now. i feel like maybe that means their second album is going to be disappointing, if they write another one. but yeah i can't stop listening to this.

this is one of those albums where i don't really relate to many of the lyrics, but something about the whole package is just really perfect. even if the album is called 'boys and girls'.

i said i'd never grow old
i can't remember how that used to be

(via)

cheap honesty I.

MY DEAR FRIENDS, YOU ARE FUCKED. I LOVE YOU FAR TOO MUCH.

++

dec 6 2012

it would be really irresponsible for me to work 6am-3pm tomorrow right. and i should not be swayed by whoever picks up the phone

you cannot, emily. you HAVE to write your paper. seriously

do you know what it is. it is because if i don't go to work i don't leave the house. i need to go to therapy for my work related issues.

yeah....

i said no but i feel sad about saying no. i think i will take a shower.

maybe you should sign up for a hobby related class.

++

thinking of you listening to neko case

omg love neko case. what song are you listening to.

polar nettles

++

do you know any straight girls who wear men's underwear

random. i don't think so.

do you know any gay girls with long nails

yes...

...

.....

slash laughing alone in my room

did you finish your sound project?

i am finishing it now. so close. hence the hysteria. i keep getting interrupted by oscar who whines every time i close the door. then he stares at me when i open it

my roommate's cat used to do that. it made me hate him.

++

is darren being understanding?

yes he is amazing. he said he won't deduct marks as long as i hand it in while he's still marking the other papers.

wtf he is jesus. my idol.....

i know right

at least it's more generous than my 5 hour extension. ....which i didn't make.

++

dec 7 2012


i'm like moses: my body turns coffee into water.

some time later....

my shoulder feels dislocated

hola moses, mi examen final es hoy. then i am SO DONE. when are you finished?

tuesday

saweet. i smell a party.

well i was supposed to be mostly done this tuesday, but then i handed in everything late because of a mental breakdown and i'm still writing an essay because i'm a retard.

this is why we're friends, FYI.

i know i was thinking of you and how you're probably suffering just like me. we need to get out soon.

just found out my exam is 12 pages. 12 pages of spanish madness. officially getting off my phone.....now. see you when your social life finds you.

++

i got your other texts this morning because i was in bed..........i go to bed really early.

i know, because you wake up really early. i have 730 words written.

++

why are you calling me?! slash i bet it's a pocket dial.

one: i love how shocked (appalled?) you are that i might call and, two: it was a pocket...or book dial - i dropped my book on my phone b/c it sounded like one of the babies was dying in her sleep

you told me you never call people. for 2 seconds i felt really special. i hope the baby is ok.

indeed you are special, regardless. the baby turned out just to be snoring in the most old man way ever.

++

i am in a van, cramped up against the back because the self-entitled man in front of me put his seat far back. i feel like throwing up on the back of his head.

you should put your knees on his chair

ha, that is my plan.

damn those self entitled men. and the patriarchy.

you have no idea how much i hate men. sometimes i forget but it is always there, just simmering below the surface......probably only 5 percent kidding.

one day i will make you talk about your lesbian escapades....

one day.

soon.

++

dear darren, essay writing is going slowly because i am taking pictures of myself spooning my cat.

dear dr. cahill, your paper is still not in but i did spend an hour reading about how katy perry isn't a feminist and crafting an erudite facebook reply.

++

it's gotten to the point where i'm literally just collaging things other people have said about gail scott together and the only things i have written are "she argues that..."

hmmm....i suspect that is not going to work well....for darren....

i hope he appreciates my research. i did say that julie doucet and gail scott are both from montreal.

i just literally laughed out loud and i am in a van full of strangers.

how is that going by the way. are you almost there?

we are more than half way to toronto and i made the self-entitled asshole move his chair. he was rude (INDIGNANT) about it, if you can imagine (he has what is known as a "bucket seat" and so he is not even sharing/sitting beside someone!). 

well he is an idiot. those are the best seats.

yeah. basically that was the look i gave him and then i kneed his seat for extra effect.

you're the best.

i knooooowww..my bum is so NUMB. ....my text was in response to the seats being the best - i don't think my numb bum makes me the best. just so you don't think that.

++

I HAVE 3 HOURS TO WRITE 500 WORDS

YOU CAN DO THAT!

AHHH

half of that can be your conclusion!

the essay honestly makes no sense. it's kind of funny. at least i choose to see it that way

++

is it legal to rent an apartment in another country if you don't have a working visa (and you're not working)

no. but lots of people do it.

why is it not legal?

um i don't know. i think because you aren't doing anything there? maybe i am wrong but i don't know.... i guess if within a limited time...maybe?

hm. will do more research at a later date.

++

1,743 words i am so close i am so close i'm going to cry

yesssss. i knew you could do it!

i'm excited but slightly worried because this literally two essays about different things ... except that they are both from montreal!!! that sentence didn't even make sense.

dead mothers

dead mothers

who are still dead

i am alive

you are in my blood

dead mothers


dead mother's

single daughter's

mother's mother

has dementia


dead mother

you had cancer

i was a child

one time

dead mother


single fathers

raising daughters

so much blood

in my blood

dead mother


9 months in your womb

the best way to touch your heart is to make an ass of myself

[jens lekman - kanske ar jag kar dig]

currently enjoying jens lekman's 2007 album 'night falls over kortedala'. further enjoying that it's labeled as 'holiday' music in my itunes. feeling like i can relate to this song about being awkward...

i almost posted this in the morning and then i realized that i don't post things in the morning on my blog? trying to maintain my 'night owl' illusion.

(kylejthompson)

La vie est une merde totale

"La vie est une merde totale
on la chie jusqu'à la mort.
une grande ligne de caca
c'est là tout ce qui restera
de nous. merci maman."

"qui

n'a

pas

déjà

cru

avoir

rejeté l'amour

dans l'âme

pour

toujours?"

merci julie doucet for being super fucking awesome.

dear natasha,

i read your poem 'monarch butterflies use the earth's magnetic field' and i just want you to know

it's a great poem and all but what do you mean the magnetic field is preparing to flip

what exactly does that mean

is this like a real thing or a thing you made up

because i don't have a back-up system

how will i get home

it is 4am and i am really worried about this

i could look it up on the internet but i'd rather have you explain it to me

please write back soon

your friend

emily


ps natasha

it's 4am and i'm reading your poetry on the internet

sometimes the world is wonderful

Winter of Self-Destruction 1.0

Earth, I am in crisis, and you don't give a shit.
This is the winter of my self-destruction.
On the metaphorical road of life,
I have wandered off into a field
and am standing there like a lonesome cow.

Loneliness, you're enormous.
I'm drunk and you're taking advantage of me.
There isn't anyone here. I am taking advantage
of myself. Oh no.
My past and future selves are fighting again.

I am in crisis. I am as lost as Kim's bike,
locked to a pole somewhere in the city or
the dusty brain corner of forgotten things.
Earth, if you can remember where I am,
now is a good time to take me home.

Loneliness, you're enormous.
This is the winter of my self-destruction.
I am lying down now.
I am staring at the sky now,
wondering when it is going to snow.

Cohabiting by Stephen Dunn

There's not a nude in a museum
or a person anywhere, taking a bath,
nearly as naked as that French girl,
stripped of all but her socks,
head shaved, being spat upon
by her own townspeople
in one of history's sunlit
cobblestone squares. I've only
read about her, but somehow,
for me, she's permanently fixed,
a scaffolding of awful
yet understandable righteousness
surrounding her, accentuating
the stark paleness of her skin,
the big war finally over,
and behind it, for centuries,
those without pity
with their saliva and their stones.
I imagine how it began
between them, a man in a uniform
she had to have been wary of,
a man, in fact, dressed to kill,
touching her in some exactly
right place in a wrong time.
And I see her resisting for as long
as she can--minutes, weeks--
her mind searching for principles
her body doesn't seem to have.
Perhaps she thinks it's the end
of her world, what has she to lose?
Or she just falls
into those irrevocable tomorrows
like someone who knows
only what she feels, the enemy slowly
transformed into a man as lonely
as she is, with beautiful hands.
I can see the picture clearly now.
Terrified, she rushes forward,
which makes no sense, but I remember
when I did the same. Everything
in my education said, no, go back,
and I went headlong into the flames.

Can't Change The Weather, But We Sure Can Change Our Shoes

Yeah, I know I'm terrible at this. I'm busy/self-destructing/freezing. More on that later, maybe.

Anyways, it's Monday, so I should post a song. I'm still listening to a lot of She & Him (I'm even listening to their Christmas album, which is something that I'm usually morally opposed to), but I've also been going back to Bon Iver and Bright Eyes recently. I think it's something about the weather. I don't really want to post Bon Iver or Bright Eyes though; I've done that quite a lot, I think.

A good friend of mine introduced me to The Mynabirds, and I really like their song "Buffalo Flower" off their latest album "Generals". It makes me feel sad a little bit.

When the bully winds push on your shoulder, you show them who's king...

(via)

WHAT THE MOTHER OF CRAP HAS HAPPENED TO MY DESK/LIFE

Not pictured: entire contents of wardrobe on bed.

Safe to say my life is in disarray. Is the semester over yet?

a cold sky, drunk and crawling

all my stories started outside in the middle of the night. it was always cold. i was always drunk. they were always about other people and how i would crawl home at night, drunk and cold, needing people but needing loneliness too.

i'm not anywhere tonight. there is no moon. there are only christmas lights and a dim lamp in this cold room.

i imagined a perfect stranger and let it be perfect. i buried my face in her shirt. i let the sun stream through white curtains onto her back in the morning. i let myself kiss her shoulder blade and i let myself out the door. 

perfection is painful. happiness is the worst. i could make it all up, i could put it all in there. secret desire. that's what the writer does. the writer causes two people to bump their lips and stumble through the streets at night when it's cold and they're drunk. the writer writes the answers for two people. the writer creates warmth and places it in between two bodies. the writer makes the bodies sweat, the sweat slightly sticky and odourless. the writer makes sure the bodies stay warm.

am i a writer? the writer inserts themselves under the covers. the writer chooses the person next to them.

am i a writer? but the writer is alone. i'm not anywhere tonight.

the writer is just sad. the writer is unhappy with the world so she creates another one. the world is a room, rectangular in shape, with painted white walls. the window faces south. the world has a large closet and a double bed and a TV and a night stand with an alarm clock. inside the world is a woman with staticky brown hair which sticks to her wool shirt and her cheek.

but the writer hates what is not real. she apologizes to the woman with brown hair and lets her sleep peacefully and then she closes the door on that dream.

a writer is a dreamer.

all my stories are my dreams.

all my stories are my desires.

i imagined a perfect stranger and i kissed her on the mouth and i told her i never wanted to know her. i told her no matter how much i beg, to never love me, never ever let me bury my face in that favourite place, never lift my shirt and kiss my spine, never let me touch the skin which is as smooth as i make it which tingles when i make it, never let me feel what will consume me from the inside; the desire to touch again, to taste again, to kiss again and again and again, to be kissed again again again.

there was a real girl, once, who i wanted to kiss in the middle of the street in the middle of the night in front of the mountain under the cross under the moon and the moon shining off the just rained on street with my hands in my pockets and my heart kind of warm and i wanted her hands on my face and i wanted it to feel like how i imagined it feels to be in love but it didn't feel like that it felt like going home alone at night underneath a cold sky drunk and crawling and needing someone but needing loneliness too and needing to keep the illusion that love is out there somewhere, and it is real.

i'm not sorry for what i did. i'll rewrite it someday.

something hiding for us in the night

[something hiding for us in the night - the wooden sky]

i know i already posted this song 2 years ago when i first saw the wooden sky in montreal. but i'm posting it again because i just saw them play on saturday, and i this is my favourite song by them.

i was thinking about how the wooden sky is one of the bands that i've seen play most often in my life. it's not a lot; 3 out of the 4 times they've been to montreal in the last 2 years. but i went with the same person every time, and that's kind of a nice a feeling. i was thinking about how just because i'm doing the same things i did 2 years ago doesn't mean i'm not different. doesn't mean i haven't changed.

i'm scared that i don't change. i mean, i always worry that i'm not growing, that i'm making the same mistakes over and over again. but i have changed, and i do change.

yeah, i'm different now. it's okay, you know. i'm talking to myself. it's okay.

and if that mean old city gets you down...
i'll be around, i'll still be around.

Broken Montreal: Through Little Italy and the Edge of Mile End

For my contemporary canadian fiction class.

Oh, What Can You Do With A Sentimental Heart?

watched 500 days of summer recently as part of my recent movie-watching phase, so now i am obviously listening to she & him, because zooey deschanel.

[she & him - sentimental heart]

oh, and obviously m. ward whom i love so much who also toured recently with feist whom i also love obsessively.

i also really like this is not a test from their first album "vol. 1".

(here)

A Review of A Movie Which Came Out A Year Ago, "The Art of Getting By"

Since I've renewed my subscription to Netflix, I've been catching up on some Mad Men episodes, as well as watching at least a couple of movies a week. One movie I recently watched was "The Art of Getting By" (2011), a super cute movie about high school romance, and being young in general.

While I don't usually care for "teenage rebel falls for blonde chick while neglecting his homework but still being super smart" plots, I liked this one because Freddie Highmore's character is very easy to sympathize with. He's not an asshole. I would say he's less of a rebel and more just a shy kid trying to figure out who he is. He reminded me of a friend I had in Cegep who never did his homework just because he felt like drawing instead, or reading a book for pleasure, or just spending his time on things that mattered more to him. 

I guess I really liked this movie because it felt honest. It felt like it was written by someone who at least remembers what it's like to be a teenager. I hate TV shows and movies where the characters go to clubs because they always get it completely wrong, but "The Art of Getting By" actually did a good job with their New Year's Eve club scene. My favourite part of the movie is when George and Sally are having a "just friends" valentine's day dinner, and it's really clear to the audience that George is in love with her, but then this awkward/tense conversation occurs:

Sally: Have you ever had sex?

George: Yeah, tons.

Sally: No, really, have you?

George: Why are you asking me this? You know I haven't.

Sally: Well, I don't know, I'm just wondering. ... Have you ever thought about me?

George: What do you mean?

Sally: You know what I mean. Have you ever...have you ever thought about it?

George: Why are you doing this?

I just thought it was a realistic dialogue between two young people, one sexually experienced, one not at all, trying to navigate friendship and romance and growing up. I liked the feeling of him wanting to express his feelings, but not being ready to.

The only thing I couldn't stand is how obvious it is that George (Freddie Highmore) needs help, but his teacher's pretty much abandon him even though he tells them he's depressed. Maybe that's realistic too, sadly.

I also fully appreciated how much Emma Roberts looks like Dianna Agron who (whom?) I unabashedly love.

Also the soundtrack was awesome.

Who am I kidding? This movie was a total guilty pleasure.

I Enjoy To Write Posts About October

My general feeling about October throughout the rest of the year can probably best be summed up as "ambivalent". It's sort of this nothing month that disappears between the final warmth of September and the cold of November as "another month of school".

But when I get to October -- when I'm actually in it -- I really love this month.

First of all, September sucks so whenever October comes around it's like a huge breath of fresh air. September = stressful. October = not September, therefore October = something better. That may be a fallacy but still, I can't help but think that October means things are settling down, a normal schedule has been established, and I can breathe again without panicking.

Secondly, I feel like fall fashion is in full swing, and I can't wait to buy a new scarf and some socks and maybe even some new shoes.

Anyways, I've been listening to a lot of new music since I got back from my trip that I haven't been posting here (four months with no new music made me feel kind of deprived so I've been downloading new stuff at an abnormal rate).

Neko Case's "Middle Cyclone" is still on high rotation, but I'm also listening to Andrew Bird's 2009 album "Noble Beast".

Here's a really cool live version of my favourite song off that album "Nomenclature".



I'm also really into Yukon Blonde again. I saw them play in September when they were visiting for Pop Montreal and I picked up a sweet tank top and a renewed appreciation for how fun they are live (the first time I went to see them I was actually seeing The Wooden Sky -- but I walked away a Yukon Blonde fan). My favourite song off their latest album "Tiger Talk" is "Iron Fist" mostly because of the lyrics.

It feels like the very first time
anybody's hurt you so much
you could just die
but you will get over it.
You will get over it.

(via)

Also listening to: Destroyer, Devendra Banhart, The Mountain Goats, The New Pornographers, Okkervil River.

Portrait of a Sweet Orange

Citrus sinensis: the Sweet Orange,

not to be confused with the Citrus aurantium:

a bitter fruit.

Oranges are a vital source of Vitamin C.

The orange blossom is white.

Fallen blossoms are dried and used to make tea.

In the produce section of the grocery store

I watched a child sitting in a cart reach over the metal bars

and pick up a large orange. He held it in his hand

and then he bit it.

Apples are apples and oranges are oranges.

Nothing rhymes with orange.

The Sweet Orange does not occur in the wild.

This Tornado Loves You

I'm 3 years late, but I'm obsessed with Neko Case's album "Middle Cyclone". I think that's because it accurately describes my whole entire life as someone who is a total mess but still needs love. I like how she doesn't shy away from the things that are wrong with her.

I have a lot of favourites on the album, but I think the one I like most is the title track mostly because of these lyrics:

can't give up acting tough
it's all that i'm made of
can't scrape together quite enough
to ride the bus to the outskirts of
the fact that i need love.

(moresque)

The Roof of the World: The Pamirs, Tajikistan

i spent my first night in tajikistan
in a squat toilet shitting out my insides
bent over in a spiderweb of pain.
i was thankful, at least,
for the darkness a squat toilet provides.
thankful everything disappeared
into a black hole in the earth.

in my private squat toilet hell
i imagined them finding me in the morning.
pants down, lying in a pile of my own shit and blood.
barely conscious, begging for water, chapstick,
and a new pair of jeans, and to line me up
against the crumbling wall,
shoot my decrepit fucking body
my head was unfortunate enough to be attached to.

i came back to vomit,
my face in front of a hole full of shit,
bringing up what i had choked down,
with my cellphone flashlight
waiting for the battery to die or the sun to rise,
whichever one came first.

in the morning we drove through the pamirs;
remote mountains near remote mountain borders.
they call it the pamir highway,
the roof of the world, "the world's greatest road trip",
and i slept through the whole damn thing.


Karakol:

click on the pictures to scroll through.

Murghab: 

Asshole Mountain, near Murghab:

sometimes when i have anxiety

domenica,

sometimes when i have anxiety i check your blog to see if you've written anything new. sometimes i don't even read it, sometimes i just skim, like, it's a comfort to just know that you're out there, thinking of things. i think of this now, at 1 in the morning, skimming.

i'm worried that i'm doing it all wrong. 'it' being life.

i know there's no wrong way, but i'm scared anyway. like what if it's just like before. 'it' being this year. there are histories about me that you don't know, intricacies, and stories so delicate i become angry at them. i can't stop thinking about her. from before i met you. all the things i did so wrong i'm scared i'll do again. it has nothing to do with you at all, but it just seems like you're here right now, so i'm mentioning it. briefly, this feeling.

it seems like you're here right now, close, where i can trace your own delicately outlined histories when i get scared, slide inside your skin,

so i let you slide into mine:

it's just that fear doesn't only come at night anymore. it's there in the morning, too. domenica, my eyes are burning from the screen. i'm scared to go to sleep. i'm scared of the light i'll see when i wake up.

10,000 tonnes happiness and sadness revisted

10,000 tonnes happiness and sadness

you're not quite sure what it is that makes you so sad, only vaguely aware that it is here, visiting you in the shower. just some under the surface stuff that you reveal scrubbing yourself absentmindedly. you're not even sure if it's sadness, maybe apathy or lethargy instead. but then a heavier sigh - yes, there it is. sadness, which is so close to happiness that you can mistake one for the other. happiness, contentedness, a sort of apathy or lethargy in its own way. a settlement of sorts? happiness, sadness, what's the difference? you hate euphoria - it scares you, makes you upset. never one feeling without the other. happiness and sadness inside your coffee mug; filtered coffee which tastes good because you can't afford better, made in your kitchen, sipped without thought on the cool tiled floor while your hair dries. something is missing; it's milk and sugar, but you can live without those now.

look at what i did now

in an airport hotel
so i touch your bones for the last time

the sun rises through the window

planes lift their heavy wings
fly over our heads

this balcony gives an excellent view of sky

so at four in the morning i pack my bags
and dive right in

sweet blue tastes like sugar sticks and nescafe

asphalt tastes like clean sheets soft mattress all alone

so i guess what i'm trying to say
is that i'm home

This Blog Is Moving For 2 Months

Hello! As I'm sure you may have heard from all the various news reports and covers on magazine stands, I am going to China TOMORROW Monday, May 7!

Holy shit! You're probably thinking to yourself. How can I keep in touch with Emily when everyone knows that China is slightly neurotic and blocks access to facebook, twitter, blogger, and wordpress thereby rendering all current social media irrelevant? Well, the hidden gem that China has not yet discovered, at least not last year, is tumblr! So I will direct your attention to THE ONLY WAY I WILL HAVE NOT-PRIVATE CONTACT WITH THE WORLD AT LARGE:

thisisntpaper.tumblr.com

this
isnt
paper
dot
tumblr
dot
com

essentially I will be moving my blog to tumblr for 2 months.

also my email is in my blogger profile if you want to contact me directly regarding future photoshoots or interviews.

This year I'm actually going to try and document the majority of my trip which will be easier, I think, because I won't be in a classroom and because I'm bringing a digital camera. Also I'll have my cell phone which will really just be my ipod that takes pictures please don't call me.

Now that that nonsense out of the way, I just want to sort of comment on something. People keep asking me "what are you going to do in China?" and I never know what to say because I find this question very confusing. It's like when someone tells you they're going on vacation to NYC and you ask them what they're going to do there. Well, they're going to eat and drink and see all the touristy shit and be in New York. Unfortunately we're only going to be in NYC for one night; in China Rachel and I are going to sit in our tiny un-air conditioned hostel rooms and not talk to each other for two months.

The Year in Review: Sometimes I Disappeared, But I Want To Come Back

It's that made up time of year when I decide to look back at everything that has made me who I am up until this very point of writing. These times come for me usually in that gray area when one thing ends and another begins; right now it's school ending and summer beginning. In a week I'll be on a plane to China. I think that maybe this is important because it's the exact same thing I did last year.

I'm sitting in my parents' kitchen right now, drinking tea and eating stale raisins. The weather is cloudy and I think it rained this morning. I just got back from A-Camp on Sunday night and I don't really know what to do with myself. It's a lot quieter here.

The thing is, this year, I don't need to ask myself "how did you get here?" because I already know that inertia got me here. Does that make sense? What I mean is that I didn't do anything at all to get me anywhere. In September I thought to myself that I was a whole new person with realness, tangibility, and form and I stepped outside of my brain and decided I was going to crash into life.

But it turned out that life was just work. And I threw myself into that with all the force I could muster because it made me feel like a real person. It made me feel needed and important and like I was really doing something, even if it wasn't actually important at all. I could say to people "I'm working" and it could be a thing that people understood. You know? It felt normal. Like, God, I'm just so normal, going to normal work all the normal time. And I felt all the normal feelings, which is to say, I really didn't feel anything at all.

What really happened is that everything else in my life fell away. I wanted time to "focus on myself" but it turns out that that meant ensuring that I got the proper amount of sleep every night. Everything was just fine in that fine way, where I didn't cry I just sort of despaired when things were sad and then did whatever it was that I had to do. I believe they call this "going through the motions" and Buffy Summers sang about it on her hit TV show "Buffy the Vampire Slayer".

I feel proud of myself because I made + saved enough money to pay for my entire trip to China all by myself. All the money that I'm using is entirely mine that I worked for, and financial independence is something that I've always wanted so this feels like a big step for me. It's okay to feel good about that, right? Money makes me so uncomfortable and I wish that everybody had a lot of it or that nobody had any at all. But I guess this isn't really about money.

It's about how I closed up and disappeared and became a non-entity. I worked a lot but it was only about money in the sense that I needed just enough to pay rent and keep some in my bank account. I worked a lot so I could hold on to something that seemed to make sense to everyone else ("work") and I didn't let myself think about the other things that I wanted. It felt good to have a team at work, to be known and to feel solid. That was sufficient.

But before this year, my life wasn't about sufficiency. It was an overflow of feelings all the time and I cried a lot and that was a good thing. I wrote words and people read them and the words came from a real place in my heart. I stopped writing this year. My blog is almost empty and so is my journal because I just didn't have anything to say. There were no feelings that were pounding on my heart's door, demanding to be let out.

It's kind of the worst thing, to stop wanting. I don't believe for a second that I've ever stopped wanting, but I took desire and covered it up. Every time it knocked it was a faraway sound that I could shut out so easily, pretend it belonged somewhere else. I muted my desire to be anything, to be even a person. Was I a person who wrote? I had no beliefs, no identity, no passion. I didn't want to participate in anything, go anywhere, meet anyone. There was nothing for me to write.

I don't know if it was fear. I don't know what it was. I think it was just a mistake I made about myself, which I am okay with admitting. I think if I could go back I would love everyone a little harder, because I wasn't a very good friend, and I'm sorry about that.

Going to A-Camp reminded me of the person that I was when I first started working for Autostraddle. And everyone remembered me as that person, which made me want to be that person again. I miss her, that girl who was scared but brave, in love with everything and everyone. It reminded me of a time when I really lived, or something, whatever living is. I mean, it was living with other people, being comfortable in my own skin, and letting things hurt. Life doesn't have to hurt if you don't let it, but then I don't think you'll feel any feelings at all. I mean, you have to let them all in.

by Robin Roemer
this is a weird picture of me and I don't even mind

This is what A-Camp did, what Autostraddle does: it gives you confidence to be who you are. If there's anything I learned from Autostraddle for the past 3 years it's that you have to let yourself feel. Your feelings are beautiful and you're beautiful and god it sounds so corny, but that's what it is, you are beautiful and you need to let yourself feel things because I'm going to start feeling things again and it's all going to be okay if we have feelings together.

I think maybe the whole point of this blog was my weird way of trying to tell you who I am, even though I don't know who that is. I'm figuring it out piece by piece, and the Autostraddle team has been a big part of that. Sometimes I disappeared, but I want to come back. I don't really know what that means, sorry.

I don't know. I guess this is just my life and these are the things that have happened to me and the things that I have done. I'm not going to say that I'm not going to hide anymore because I will probably still hide sometimes. But I know a little better now what I want and who I want to be and I think I can be that person.

by Robin Roemer

I know you can't see these people's faces, but I want you to know they are among the most beautiful faces you will ever see.

I am humbled, once again, by the magic of Autostraddle. I want you to know that I knew these things about myself before, I knew that I had disappeared this year and become a blank slate of nothingness. But I guess A-Camp filled me up again, reminded me of there's a rosy complexion to my cheeks.

M. Ward - A Wasteland Companion

M. Ward has been one of my favourite artists ever since I heard two of his albums ("Hold Time" and "Post-War") in the Winter of 2010. Those albums remind me of sitting in the library for days writing an essay about China and studying for exams -- but for some reason it's not a stressful memory. I think I was happy then. Or at least understanding something for a moment, whatever that something was. Maybe the past always seems happier than the present. No? I don't know.

Anyways, M. Ward has got a new album out called "A Wasteland Companion" and I like it more and more every time I hear it. It's full of everything I love about him: folk/country/soft-pop/alt-rock/interesting lyrics/keyboard/harmonies, etc.

He's already got a video out for "The First Time I Ran Away":

The second time I ran away I saw warriors on the train catching tigers by the tail.

You can stream the full album on his website and I really think you should do that. Suffice to say I am not disappointed.

There are a couple of songs that I really like; "Clean Slate" is a beautiful little opening track, "Primitive Girl" is upbeat and fun, "Pure Joy" is dreamy and hopeful and redemptive. But I think my favourite song so far is "Crawl After You", a piano ballad that almost made me cry.

So I gotta crawl after you, tell you who I am...

My favourite M. Ward song of all time will always be Post-War.

in the meantime

I have to write a megapost about Feist because that's what my heart is telling me to do, but in the meantime have a listen to Sensual Harassment's remix of UK band Stranger's song "Shine On You". You can also download Sensual Harassment's 2010 album "Alpha Draconis" for free on their website which you should do because it's free and because IT'S FUN. "It's" referring to free things and also the music.

You know, sometimes I consider just turning this into a music blog.

(via)

i'll be the one who'll break my heart

[feist - i feel it all]

oh feist. if i had time to write you a love letter a day for the rest of my life, i would.

only slightly alternate

nowadays i only ever get drunk on weekdays

and only ever on white wine

i bought at the supermarket for $6.99

i only ever think of a million different people

i've seen that week, some faces more than others

some faces i couldn't get enough of

i only ever think of an only slightly alternate

reality

no one ever shits or blows their nose

it's an open concept loft apartment with a double bed

nowadays i only ever get drunk

i only ever think of all the books i'm going to read

in your open concept loft apartment with a double bed

If I Had An Orchard I'd Work Til I'm Sore

[fleet foxes - helplessness blues]

i'd rather be a functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me.

what good is it to sing helplessness blues?

ah, what good is it? but how to stop? i can't say how much i want the fullness of life, or how much i've given up on it.

mouth sound

to say this word out loud

say this out loud

as i always am when i come here

i am confused

am i good or no good?

good/not good?

is this an act or is this

real life?

i feel

so much

anxiety

it

makes

me

want

to

.

one who does these things

one who does opposite things

i cannot compare myself to

one who speaks out loud

their own words

I think the idea that I can't have everything infuriates me

I think the idea that I can't have it all drives me insane. Why can't I take 18 credits and have a job at the same time? Because that's insane. Why can't I learn the things I want to learn? What did I come to university for? To be a writer. Oh yeah, to be a writer. That's what I said before I came here. I said I would be a writer with or without university. But aren't I writing right now? Isn't anyone who writes a writer? Oh, but to be a good writer. Ah, well.

Here I am. I want everything. An apartment with a living room for fuck's sake. A job that doesn't take everything I am for minimum wage plus 10cents. It's nothing. It's something. I feel broken.

If I don't like it why do I do it? If I demand better what does that make me? Insolent, maybe. Ungrateful.

Can I get some quiet? I know, I know, I know. It's just this day. But I can't be quiet. I can't turn me off. There's always someone in there, knock knock knock, right, she says, why can't you have it all. And then another, you have too much. Oh, help. You'll never have enough.

Oh, and I want and I want and I want it all.

[the temper trap - fools]

Things That Are Killing Me Slowly

1. academia

2. my uterus

3. winter

4. the patriarchy

This Is The Story of a Girl

This is the story of Emily Choo who went to buy a bottle of wine at the grocery store on a Sunday evening and never returned. She disappeared into a vortex combination of insanity and patheticism. She didn't even care that patheticism is not a word. It all started when she saw the family sized pack of oreos on sale for $2.99. "Sweet deal!" she said and grabbed a box. Then she continued to the wine section, where she was disappointed by the lack of $6.99 bottles of white wine. Thinking she might have to pick red, her eye was suddenly caught by $7.39 boxed wine. Feeling as pleased as one can feel when buying a giant pack of oreos and boxed wine, she proceeded to the checkout counter where she promptly burst into flames and disappeared into said vortex of shame and madness and patheticism.

Inside the vortex Emily had a hard look at her life. She went to Concordia, not McGill; she studied Creative Writing, not "Business"; and she was drinking wine from a box (did it even matter that she couldn't find a glass at this point?). "I can name all the countries in the world!" She said, hanging on to this one useless skill as a shining point of her life. "I can name all the countries in the world and all the state capitals and the capitals of countries in Europe and South America," said her friend Rachel. "Fuck," said Emily, and overdosed on oreos. "Is it because I listened to dubstep?" she asked. "Because I swear to you, I don't even really know what dubstep is."

Then, seemingly from all around, a voice spoke:

"hi i'm oscar i'm your cat you went to the grocery store in your pyjamas that's just sad, and i have literally been asleep all day."

"Oscar! Kitty! I feed you! Help me!" Emily cried out. "Where are you?"

"hi i am on your bed getting hair all over your pillow. first of all, turn off that shitty music and put a bra on. second of all, get yourself a wine glass, girl. thirdly, write your goddamn midterm and don't forget to take out the garbage tonight ok."

And like a phoenix born out of its own ashes, Emily was thrown out of the vortex into her apartment where she could confirm that Oscar indeed was getting hair all over her pillow.

"hi no fucks to give," he said.

10,000 tonnes happiness and sadness

hi i'm oscar and today i bring you an anecdote of emily in china when she went in a little book shop and bought a tiny cup with a picture of a whale on it that says "10,000 tonnes happiness and sadness" and gave it to her father as an espresso cup.

she says nobody understands 10,000 tonnes happiness and sadness. also she says that they all say "this isn't chinese" as if everything from china has to be in chinese.

i think that maybe some people don't get it because they have never experienced 10,000 tonnes happiness and sadness. emily has because she is bipolar and insane. maybe if you are reading this you are also insane and know what i'm talking about.

now i recently completed my studies in psychology so i know a lot about happiness and sadness. i know 10,000 tonnes of it, you might say. i know why emily thinks the expression is cool. it is because sometimes you might feel like you can hold happiness and sadness in your hand. a whole whale of happiness and sadness. your body is a vessel for feelings. i am a cat so my body is a vessel for snacks. one day you might feel so happy that you think you might float away on a cloud of medium-thickness into the bright blue sky. then the next day you might feel like your body is an anchor pulling you to the bottom of the sea where you will drown. i learned metaphors in my english class it was mandatory as part of my phd. it is possible to feel like you have 10,000 tonnes of feelings inside you.

ok does everyone understand 10,000 tonnes happiness and sadness now? plz incorporate this into your vocabulary so that when emily speaks you know what she's talking about. it is important that you at least pretend to know what she's talking about.

hi i'm dr. oscar bluth-wilde

hi i'm dr. oscar bluth-wilde and i'll be taking over this blog for a little while while emily allows herself to continue in a downward spiral by watching charmed every night until 3am.

yes, i just want you to know that i have been taking online classes and i have received my phd in psychology so i am now a doctor. you may call me dr. oscar or just oscar that's ok too. since i am just getting my practice started i am offering for a limited time only free counselling sessions at any time of the day or night as long as i am not napping or eating or playing. i have a very busy day schedule so please keep in touch regularly with my secretary if you want to make an appointment. also if you have any advice questions you want to ask now you can do that in the comment section or in cat, kind of like ask annie only it's ask oscar and i am smarter than annie. she is an idiot.

ok so in celebration of my phd there will be a party on the internet it starts now and ends never. please bring snacks or else you can't come.

thoughts

so peel peel peel back the layers to find the same thing. it took four years to grow backward, to say look i did the circuit and now i'm back, look

look, i climbed the mountain and it was just as lonely on the other side.

i guess you are afraid of what everyone is made of

[st. vincent - apocalypse song]

the vocals on this song are amazing. this song is amazing.

(by martin stranka)

conversation, 2:39pm, wednesday

emily, did you write your paper?

of course not.

what have you been doing for the past 3 hours?

nothing. i made an internet purchase.

you have not moved from that chair for 3 hours.

i found the cat in the bathroom. lying next to the heater.

write your paper.

i can't.

why not.

i am defunct.

you are not.

yes i am.

no.

yes.

this is stupid.

yes.

write your paper.

in a second.

how many cups of coffee have you had?

2.

now you are feeling insane.

yes.

too much coffee.

no.

drink more?

soon.

can't move?

no. defunct.

not defunct.

just dying. the cat has a cold i think.

maybe you should clean the apartment.

i can't.

why not?

i have to write a paper.

write your paper.

write my paper.

write it.

write write write.

write it!!!!!

typing now. type type type.

it's a cat! i'm a cat

cat cat cat

we're a cats

there's a cat in the house

world collision

i cut myself in half. i split myself in two and i said, "i can be whoever i want to be. and i can still be happy." i can make this part of me disappear, i can make this part of me appear. i can wear a new skin every day. i can be in love i can be out love. with a snap of my fingers i need you/i don't need you.

i am -

i am -

inside this room i wear these boots and i am in charge.

outside this room i am -

i am undone. where do you find people? how do other people

find

other

people?

i am falling off the face of the earth i think. i have split myself in two and fallen right apart. i have torn myself open for nobody. i'll spill my guts for you, you don't even have to ask.

some people i know, some things i've seen

click on them

san francisco

katie

old friends, the best kind

jeba

cat

cate