Chaos / Accidental Physical

I never thought I'd ever know -- you know --

life --

I never thought I'd have it all figured out.

I never thought happiness was a thing that would come to me.

I never thought I'd ever know -- you know --

just knowing, like, absolutely,

any one thing.

I never thought I'd ever be quite sure.

I mean, this is just to say, I still think this way.


It rained the day I went to Alcatraz. Not real rain, more like mist. Everything was wet and foggy. Well, that's San Francisco for you. Sometimes. I took pictures in black and white.


There was a time when my feelings were directly connected to my fingers and it would all come pouring out. There was a time when I wrote without my own critical eye. And it was good. Remember. Now it's a journey through a checklist of metaphors, narration, imagery, concrete imagery, quantity, point of view, conceit, no abstractions, and sense, does it make sense. And the words don't quite make their way out.


Summer is a time for getting drunk. But I want to get drunk in October. And I want it to be cheap and easy. I want to shiver. I want to be looking for a good time do you know when I last looked for a good time. I don't know when. I want to get drunk in October and I want the sky to be black and I want the beer to be disgusting because it's two for $6 Boreale and I want to dance in a dirty hipster bar with young dirty hipsters wearing neon tights and neon sunglasses to dirty hipster DJ playing LMFAO before LMFAO was cool I want to dance like I don't give a fuck that I'm dancing with my backpack on like I don't give a fuck that I'm dancing like I don't give a fuck like I don't give a fuck like I don't give a fuck 'cause I don't give a fuck.


And the words and the words and the words. They're never ending. And they don't quite make sense. There's no need to try and piece them together.


Always sitting there trying to name the feelings. Separate them, label them, explain them. And always the questions when I'm not ready. I don't know yet. And I might not ever know. Maybe leave me alone forever. Maybe leave me alone indefinitely. I can't articulate. I'm not ready.

And I am so spent. And I am so exhausted. And I can't see anymore. Beyond myself. I can't say just what I mean. I don't mean anything. I can't articulate.

And now I shrug my shoulders. And now I am alone. Why articulate?



All we want, baby, is everything.


This body grew like a tree from the earth. This body wants food. This body wants water. This body wants touch. This body wants space to stretch its legs. This body is sorry about some things but not about others. This body is sorry for pushing Tino in first grade gym class but not sorry about being angry. This body is physical. This body and other bodies. This body and the accidental physical. This body is full of insides and outsides. This body is full of spaces for the metaphorical abstract. This body is science. This body is art. This body bleeds every 27 days. This body has a literal heart. This body remembers some things but not others. This body remembers the taste of another body that had just consumed beer and marijuana. This body does not know what it has forgotten. This body and the accidental physical. This body cannot make sense of what is not part of it. This body can count. This body is not sure if it's put its feelings in the right place. This body cannot actually see inside itself. This body does not know what's going on inside itself. This body can see outside. This body can't see in the dark. This body is protein. This body is carbohydrates. This body is vitamins. This body created itself. What is this body but a tree grown from the earth, and every spring there is rebirth.







What happened to the days.

What happened to the things I had to say and then forgot.

Today is the day I listened to "Good Woman" by Cat Power for the 121st time.

four full years ago

i am sitting here, january 8 2013. here i sit. in my chair. on the internet.

four whole years ago i wrote this little poem and thus began a long relationship between my thoughts and the internet.

this blog has been through some weird times. i think, in these four years, i essentially grew up, and i documented a lot of that right here. and i'm still growing.

when i first started this blog i had just turned 18, i was living at home, and i was starting cegep. now, i just turned 22, living in my third apartment in as many years, and i'm going to graduate university in a few months. i fell in love and i fell out of love, over and over again. the friends i had when i was 18, the good ones, the real ones, i still have them. and i have new, good friends. they are all amazing. you are all amazing.

this blog peaked in about 2010 when i updated a lot and told people i was updating a lot. and i met some pretty cool people in that way. when i thought i would say goodbye to being on the internet for a little while, you were all so wonderful and sweet so i didn't. and i think i realized that i can't, anyway. if i wanted to stop writing i couldn't. which is why, now, i think, it matters less to me who reads. i love it, of course, if you're reading, but i don't think i'm writing anymore so that people read. i'm just writing.

here we all are. somewhere, in the world. and here i go, starting year five of writing in this little space. i'm not getting sentimental. i mean, whatever.

mont-royal/montreal

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

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.

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.

I've Decided That I Am Going To Be Famous

So after many years of thinking I didn't want to be famous, I have now decided that I do. I mean I have now decided that I am going to be famous. This abrupt shift in thinking came after realizing that Alex Pettyfer was born the same year I was, and also Lily's article where she realizes that she can no longer be a teen star because she is not a teen anymore. It's weird because I don't even really like Alex Pettyfer or teen stars.

But since I've decided to be famous, I've run into a bit of a problem, namely that I have no marketable talent such as: acting, singing, dancing, playing an instrument, improvising, painting things, modelling etc. Therefore I've concluded that I will become famous by being the next J.K Rowling, except younger. See, I need to be a young famous person so that I can influence the young generations with my words and bestselling book(s) and change the world. Also because I don't want to wait 20 years to be famous.

Also I will make good poetry popular again and move to the west coast where the other famous people are.

Tina Fey will read my book and write a movie about me, which reminds me that I need to read Tina Fey's book. I will be famous by the time Tina Fey is 50 years old.

If the book thing doesn't work out then I'll let people take naked pictures of me until I have enough money to buy my way to fame, or at least an apartment in Los Angeles (that's basically being famous, right?).

If at the last minute I decide not to share my naked body with everybody on the internet, and the book thing really doesn't work out, then I guess I'll just have to get a day job or something. Ugh.

gonna take you for a ride on a big jet plane/pre-departure panic

tomorrow i go to china.

in true fashion, i've packed everything at the last minute.

but it's okay because i've been mentally packing for the last week.

on the campus that i'm staying at, breakfast costs $0.50. apparently.

i feel sad because laura wooley left my house today, but i'm excited for breakfast. i mean, i hope someone will eat breakfast with me.

also it's entirely possible that i will not have access to most of the sites i use because of the great firewall of china. obvs i can't go 2 months without contacting north america, so i'll get laura to post some stuff that i send her via email. i make laura do so many things for me, i should buy her a present of 6 pairs of underwear.

in all this rush of goodbyes and "don't forget this", i feel like i'm going away forever. sometimes i forget that i'm coming back. like i'll be home in two months. and i'm thinking there are stores in beijing that will sell me all the things i forget at home, probably for a cheaper price. it'll be okay, you know?

everything is different at night. i need to go brush my teeth.

Why Canadians Need To Vote In The Federal Election May 2

As you may or may not know, Canada is going to have a federal election on May 2, 2011. That's in like 2 days, guys. This election is very neatly straddling the line between "stupid" and "super important". Mostly it's stupid because we keep having elections and nothing has changed, and super important because, well, maybe it will.

There are all sorts of reasons not to vote, especially for young people. Politics can seem like this alternate reality in Ottawa where men in suits are really boring and money disappears and what exactly does it have to do with me? Maybe we don't realize the extent to which it does have to do with us because it feels like politicians aren't talking to us, aren't making policies for us, and just plain aren't taking us seriously.

Figuring out who to vote for and how the voting system works can be confusing, especially since most of that isn't taught in school. The Globe and Mail has a pretty decent rundown on the major parties and their policies, where you can compare their platforms. If you're not sure which party you align with the most, CBC has a vote compass to help you figure it out. If you're doing it and you don't understand or know which policies the questions are talking about, then that's a really good reason to look them up to see where you stand on these issues. Just because you're young doesn't mean you can't understand politics. Here are the ridings in Quebec. Find your riding, see who's elected now, see which way its leaning, and what's going on.

++

Elections Canada breaks down how our voting system works. Here's a quick explanation:

Canada's parliament is made up of two bodies: the Senate (appointed) and the House of Commons (elected). The government is made up of the House of Commons, ie, the people we elect. Canada is divided into electoral districts, known as ridings. One person from each party can run for election in a riding, as well as independents. We, the people, vote for one candidate in our riding. If that person gets the most votes in that riding, then they win a seat in the House of Commons and represent that riding as an MP (member of parliament).

Our Prime Minister is the leader of the the party with the most seats, or MPs, in the House of Commons.

So, for example, in my riding of Pierrefonds-Dollard, Bernard Patry of the Liberal Party is currently my MP. If everyone else in Canada elected a member of the Liberal Party to the House of Commons, then Michael Ignatieff, as leader of the Liberal Party would be our Prime Minister.

The system is a little bit messed up, in that we don't get to directly vote for who we want to be PM. If you happen to be in a riding that is extremely Conservative, then your Liberal vote doesn't actually go to the Liberals. Not to mention that the left is split into 4 different parties. This is how Stephen Harper was able to win a minority government in the last election despite the fact that about 60% of Canada voted for Not-Harper.

There are 5 major parties running in this election: the Conservatives, the Liberals, the Bloc Quebecois, the New Democratic Party, and the Green Party.

++

The Conservatives

Leader: Stephen Harper

These are some of my feelings, re: Stephen Harper:

+ Shitharperdid.ca

+ He wants to spend $29 billion on fighter jets

+ He wants to build more prisons despite the fact that crime rate is going down

+ He has filled the government lobby with pictures of himself

+ etc, sorry can't provide an unbiased review of Harper & the Conservatives

The Liberals

Leader: Michael Ignatieff

Some things I care about re: Ignatieff & the Liberals:

+ learning passport: $1000 a year tax free bursaries for post-secondary students (for 4 years)

+ cares about our environment - especially cleaner oil sand development

+ possibly introducing online voting?

+ youth hiring incentive

+ apparently care about women

+ is not Stephen Harper

Bloc Quebecois

Leader: Gilles Duceppe

To be quite honest, I find this party kind annoying. They take a fairly liberal stance on most things except that they want the separation of Quebec and Canada, which is basically reason enough for me to not vote for them. Aside from that, they will never have enough votes to become the government of Canada, though I understand the need for "Quebec to be represented".

The NDP

Leader: Jack Layton

Jack Layton did a good job in the debates for this election and is gaining a lot of popularity in Quebec. Here is part of the NDP's platform:

+ hire lots of nurses and doctors

+ $800m transfer to provinces and territories to lower tuition fees.

+ reinstating federal minimum wage (actually not entirely sure what this would do)

+ climate change accountability act

+ ELECTORAL REFORM!!! but also they want to abolish the senate. not sure how I feel about that yet.

+ Be not-Stephen Harper

The Green Party

Leader: Elizabeth May

My parents said that Elizabeth May should be the leader of the Liberal party and that sounds like something I can agree with. The Green Party is a lot bigger in BC than it is in Quebec. Also I find it weird that the Bloc is invited to debates but the Greens aren't.

+ The Green Party is much more committed to the environment than any of the other parties, it is the foundation of their platform.

+ establish a $10 minimum wage

+ "$400-millon annual increase in funding of post-secondary education needs-based scholarships and bursaries"

+ reform the electoral system

+ are also apparently the only party to have a budget (it's at the end)?

+ not Stephen Harper

++

This is basically information I have gathered from each party's website in about 10 minutes. But don't trust everything I say! Reading and getting at least a small grasp on where each party stands doesn't take a long time, and you want to vote for what's important to you, not what's important to me. So one more time, here's the vote compass and here's the Globe's comparison of party policies.

This is what I have to say to people who are not voting: Why do you live here? Why not live in a place where you don't have to vote, like, say, China? I'm sure you enjoy your rights and freedoms here in Canada. Well, so do I. Just because the system might not make perfect sense, however, is not a reason to not vote. If you really think it's that stupid, then spoil your ballot. But don't sit at home not caring, because this is your life. Don't throw yourself around like you don't matter, because you matter, okay? And you know what? This is my life too. This is my country, too. So when you don't vote, you're taking a little piece of it away from me.

So I'm Going to China This Summer

I might have told you already, but I guess it's time for me to "officially" announce that I'm going to China this summer!

This is what's going down:

It's an 8 week program with Concordia, kind of like an exchange except I don't think anyone is coming to Montreal. I'll be getting 12 credits, taking a 9-credit Mandarin course and a culture course. I'll be staying at the Communications University of China in Beijing with a bunch of other Concordia students and also other students from who knows where. The dates of my trip are May 20-July 16 so mark that on your calendars.

I don't speak any Chinese and I've never been to China so this is really exciting and I'm 95% sure I will start speaking to people in French when they don't understand me in English.

Because I'm going to China for 2 months, I'm also moving out of my apartment on May 1. I feel sad about this because I've really enjoyed living in my little room and living close to downtown. I'm happy to be closer to work for the next ~3 weeks until I leave, but doing anything besides work is going to suck because it'll take me an hour to actually get anywhere.

When I get back I'll probably live with my parents for the rest of the summer, or I might get an apartment for August. I'll probably be looking on craigslist again because I don't want to sign a lease, but if you know anyone who needs a roommate for the fall (in the Plateau area) let me know!

That's basically my life right now, besides working a lot because going to China is expensive and I have a lot of summer shopping to do.

when you wait for the dawn to crawl through the screen like a burglar to take your life away*

I am a 20 year old getting my BA in Creative Writing with a minor in Political Science and yeah, I know those are two completely different things.

My therapist told me there are steps to becoming [x]. Like there are steps to becoming anything. Like if I want to be a writer then I have to do this this this this this this and this and this like everybody else and then I will be a writer. And if I want to be something else then I will have to do all the steps to become that. I said I feel like I should be doing more things right now. I said my life feels boring and like a habit. My therapist said what did I expect I am an undergrad I am doing all that I am supposed to be doing right now.

I grew up thinking there was a world of possibilities for me. I could be anything. Anything! Anything in the whole world! When I was 12 we had to present a project to our class of what we wanted to be when we grew up. I wanted to be a hockey player. I told my teacher I didn't need to learn math because I would be a hockey player and I could pay someone to be my agent and do that shit for me. I wanted to go to the olympics.

Then I learned that women cannot (yet) be professional hockey players (unless you're Hayley Wickenheiser (but you're not)); they have to pay to play and have jobs on the side. Or, really, have a job and play hockey on the side. And there are 80 trillion people in Canada who play hockey, and ~23 players on the olympic hockey team, so, yeah, you do the math. I can't.

Anyways, the moral of that little story is that I learned I can't be just anything. So in high school I decided I wanted to be a writer, which was the other thing I was good at. I liked to write fiction but I really wanted to be a poet because I loved to read and write it. Cool, but you know where this is going right. The moral of this story is that I can write poetry but I can't be T.S Eliot (toilets) and I had good ending for this sentence but I can't remember it.

Blah, blah. That's depressing, yada, yada. But I'm still doing what I like to do, which is nice. Only now, instead of being confident that YES I WILL BE A MOTHERFUCKING WRITER LIKE JK ROWLING i am terrified by the statistics and the idea that I will have to work a part-time job at American Eagle to make rent because only 5 people will read my poems and only 1 person will buy it because everything is available online for free. And I am terrified that I'm only average. That my writing is mediocre. That I am good, but just "good", and not like, Irving Layton Award Finalist good. You know? Ever felt like you were just "average"?

I was wondering, as I left my therapists office, when adults lose their sense of possibility. When is this shift from thinking there's more than one way to do things, to being convinced that everyone who doesn't walk in a straight line is lost? I feel like I am on the cusp of maybe realizing that I do need to do this this this this this this and this and this to "become" a "writer". And I'm doing it? I am totally following this nice little path that's been paved for me. Is a BA is the new high school diploma? What is life?

Part of me is trying to cling to this idealistic rebellious free-thinker hopeful defy-all-odds mover shaker dreamer achiever view of the world. Is the 'real world' a box that, once you go inside of, you can never get out of?

Katrina dropped out of college but she's one of the smartest people I know. And when she writes, she has 10 times more stories to tell than I do. See, I want to be a writer, but I don't have much to say, which might be a weird thing for me to say as I've had this blog for over 2 years now.

It all just sounds average to me. Like everyone else feels the same way as me and we are all going to write the same thing.

*bukowski wrote this

How To Cook Everything

Every day we wake up we promise to be better. We promise ourselves to make changes. We want to love more, love better, try harder. We can do anything we want to.

I will stop worrying about money. I will live better. Maybe not tomorrow, but today at least. That's all I can give. That's all I can promise. For today to be better, at least.

I am not growing in a straight line. I want to learn to love you more.

By now you're probably wondering why this is titled "How To Cook Everything" when there is clearly nothing about cooking here. The answer is that "How To Cook Everything" is a cookbook that is right next to me and I'm avant garde like that. JK.

this is how the days of the week work

if i make it to monday,

i might make it to tuesday,

and then i will park myself firmly

in the middle of the week

and hopefully one day

i will get to thursday

where i will be one day closer

to the weekend.

if i make it to monday,

that will mean that i have

spent some money,

read some sentences in a book,

laid in my bed,

eaten some pasta

and maybe a bagel,

probably showered twice.

if i make it to monday

without being an asshole,

crying over little things,

spending too much time on the internet,

ignoring phone calls,

or listening to sad music

it will be

a miracle.

if i make it to monday,

someone will listen to me talk

it will feel like a million tiny hands

massaging my brain

it will feel like punching a wall

i will call it a successful social interaction

i will navigate my way

to tuesday.

truth about women

it’s the middle of winter. i think winter is perfect for breathing close to someone when you’re outside and hiding your hands somewhere. i wonder why it is always winter when these things start.

it’s the middle of winter and i don’t have boots on. i have shoes on and they are wet. my knees are wet because i fell to the ground to look at the sky. i thought it might answer some questions but i guess since the sky can’t talk it just snowed on me. it snowed on everyone else too.

i tried to make the place i live a home. i try to drink something warm every day. i’m afraid in the middle of the night my bones might freeze if i don’t continually stir the fires in my finger tips. i wonder how long it would take for someone to find my frozen bones and all it would take is another body in my bed and i might just melt a little. well, the truth was that i was waiting for somebody. i was waiting for her to come to the place i try to call a home because i thought maybe, well, i thought she said she would. but that was a long time ago.

it’s hard when you’re in love with everyone in the world. i want to say “you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen” i want to say that to everyone i meet, ‘cause it’s the honest truth, every time i look at them, god, i think, good god, you’re beautiful, and you, you’re beautiful too, you’re all so goddamn pretty i can hardly stand it. i love them all. i love you all and you don’t even know it. you’re beautiful and you know it so you don’t hear me when i say it.

you’re beautiful and you love each other and you don’t love me and i love you, all of you, and i say, i love you, and you, well, you. there you are.

time is strange because it’s never quite the same everywhere. somewhere it is summer. somewhere on the opposite side of me.

you wore a white shirt and you said something in my ear and it made me love you. i said that i didn’t love you before but now i do. i like that shirt you wear. i like those black framed glasses. you have your hand on my arm and inside my head i’m like “yes!yes!yes!”

no, wait.

that was a dream.

i’m wearing these shitty converse with holes in them and my feet are freezing already. i’m walking home at night, in fact, it may already be tomorrow, and there is slush in my shoes and inside of my socks. i wear my collar high or else the wind might come inside too, and then my bones would shiver, and they can’t take a shiver right now, they’re just waiting for a shake. but no one grabs my shoulders and looks me in the eye and says “shake shake shake”. shake shake shake.

i thought i’d be home by now but i’m not home. and you know what, i’m mad because i can hardly take it, you know, i can hardly stand it, i feel like kicking concrete. i’m mad at all the things; the wind, my dreams, the height of my ceilings, her glasses, cold tea.

i happened to be there one night. i never go there but then i was there instead of being somewhere else. that’s how things happen. it starts like i was doing my ordinary thing but then something changed. so something changed. so i was there. you were there, surrounded by friends or just other people. i carried you home and laid you on my bed. i said “i’m here,”

and you said,

“i want to go home”.

and home it is. keys and stuff. asleep in the next room. i stay up because i think she might call me. i remember that time is different if you’re not in the same spot as me, and she’s not. but i stay up because maybe, just maybe.

i had things tentatively planned. i thought she could maybe help me pick some winter boots. i thought we could stumble home from the bars and it wouldn’t seem so long and far. i thought maybe we’ll eat dinner somewhere, or maybe i’ll cook her dinner, or maybe both, or maybe more. she could walk to the bus stop with me. that’d be a nice change from standing with the lonelies who have gathered at the same spot for the same reason but can’t connect ‘cause they were born with lonely in their blood.

she didn’t call.

i’m so fucking in love with all of you. i’m so fucking in love and it hurts. it’s a million heartbreaks and i can’t go back. i can’t ever go back. once i was on the outside and it was a dull pain, the inside was a real heart but i’m not there anymore. and i can’t go back to anywhere. i’m so fucking lonely i might shrivel up into blank paper.

i barely sleep at night. i wander through dreams of people that i know but not well enough. in my dreams they are my friends but in real life we don’t know each other well enough to call it that. i wake up confused about the time. i think it’s morning when it’s 4 am and i start to get dressed only to check the clock and i can’t fall back asleep again.

when she finally called i hated every word i said to her. i was a sad puppy child full of contradictions. i cried quietly so she wouldn’t hear but all i wanted was for her to hear so i could get some attention. but i didn’t know what i wanted. but i knew what i wanted. but i wanted to cling to her body, looking for some kind of primeval comfort that i’m too shy to ask for when i’m sober. i couldn’t ask because i knew she couldn’t give. i didn’t know if she would call again. but i wanted it, yes, yes i did, so honestly that my own honesty hurt me.

after she called my eyes broke and i ate a half-cooked half-dinner. no, it wasn’t even half-cooked.

it’s not about you this time, i guess. it’s about me. it’s because i tried really hard. i mean, i really tried, i tried so hard that you didn’t even notice because everything i did was perfect. i was so fucking perfect. and i still lost.

i felt the fabric of your shirt, your white shirt. it touched my fingertips. i put my face to your chest and it touched my face. your arms were a blanket. i liked the way small parts of my skin stuck to your skin and the way you smelled and the way you breathed like it was a normal thing to do. you know i was still learning how. inside my heart i breathed a steady “yes, yes, yes”.

it was a dream. sometimes waking up from a dream is harder than other times. i can’t help myself for wanting it, for wanting you, for wanting her, for wanting everyone. time is hard, but time is not the same everywhere. somewhere else there is good time and the truth is that we will get there, all of us, every single one of us. because we’re so beautiful, we’re the most beautiful people ever made, and that’s the honest truth, i think, good god, we’re beautiful, and i love you, i really do, every single person, and all the doubles too.

inside my heart i breathe,

“yes, yes, yes.”

it's kind of quiet here in my cave.

there were many things to do

today.

somedays, not so much.

i bought nice clothes

to get a nice job

hoping it will pay for itself.

we'll see.

i am obsessed

with a cheese grater.

i must have a kettle

to make tea in my new apartment.

get me a frying pan

STAT

and please,

if you care about me in any way at all,

please

tell me it's going to be okay.

i hope the bank

will accept 47 dollars and 54 cents

in nickels and dimes.

i hope you know

that i would carry

the weight for you.

i hope you know

that there is an ocean inside of me.

it takes an ocean not to break.

we'll see.

Turning Loneliness Into Happiness: Another Memo To Myself

Learn how to make something:

food, a shoe box, a good day.

Remember, finally, there are few pleasures

that aren't as local as your fingertips.

Never go to Europe for a cathedral.

In large groups, create a corner

in the middle of the room.

- Stephen Dunn "How to be Happy: Another Memo to Myself"

First, watch this video.

Have you watched it yet? This is probably much better advice than I'm about to give you. It might also be kind of the same, but mine is probably for people who are not already perfect.

What's happening is this: Laura is going to Spain really soon. I am moving out of my parent's house. I am starting a new school in a program with people that I don't know. All my habits are about to change and that's kind of scary because there will be no more shared Alias watching, no more old comforts. Now I will have to find new comforts.

What I mean is this: I'm anticipating a period of loneliness in my life. It could spiral out of control and my life could become a mess as I struggle to deal with all the feelings (ALL THE FEELINGS!) happening all at once, or I could learn "how to be alone".

I expect that you, reader, are also going to experience at least one period of loneliness in the next 5 months, because you are (probably) a human and we are all lonely sometimes. Even Jennifer Beals is lonely sometimes. This is how I imagine my particular loneliness: it starts in my stomach, small, and then works its way up to squeezing my heart so hard that I think my heart must stop beating soon, only it doesn't. It's the opposite of the feeling of hugging your dad when you were 6 and he was superman because he could lift up your bike.

I have a plan to stave off my own loneliness for the winter. I have no idea if it will work. This plan has been formatted to fit me (tv screen). Maybe you can learn something from it, maybe you can help me stay afloat, maybe you will think I'm crazy. I expect that the next 5 months will take a superior mental effort to get through, or at least the first 1-3, and then maybe the next ones will sort of roll along. I don't plan on going through the motions. I plan on fully living my life with expected periods of stress and loneliness and feelings of wanting to go "home" even though "home" is a concept not a place. The point is to contain those periods so I don't spiral out of control into a fit of depression.

Joseph Addison said the grand essentials to happiness are something to do, something to love, and something to hope for. I feel like this is some of the best advice ever and if I find all these things, however small, my plan will succeed. Then in January I can collapse or find a new plan. Like how cell phones work.

This is what I have so far via Joseph Addison:

Something to do: I'm moving and starting school and looking for a new job. It's taking up all my time.

Something to love: we'll get back to that (maybe).

Something to hope for: I'm going to interpret this as "something to look forward to" or "something you hope to achieve in the future". My aunt from Berkeley is coming September 19th. I'm superexcited and I feel like when she comes all my problems will be solved. Basically by September 19th I want to be "settled in" to my "new life".

In a slight tangent, I feel like this is a little bit like The Sims. Remember that game? Either way, it's not a hard concept to grasp. Each Sim has desires and needs and you have to fill them.

Sims need to eat, sit, shower, pee, sleep, have fun, have friends, and enjoy their living space. Make sure all those things are green and your Sim is happy ("happy").

Here is my plan for being the happiest person I can be this fall/early winter in between finding things to hope for.

1. Denial/Thinking Positive/Letting Go

A small part of me wants to see if I can trick myself into actually being in denial that Laura is in Spain for 5 months. The idea is that if I deny it long enough, by the time I'm ready to accept the fact, she might be back on this continent already and I'll be like "oh, that was fast. I hadn't realized you'd left."

Realistically, that is not going to happen. Thus I have to use a combination of denial and "acceptance" to overcome this particular obstacle.

What is the difference between denial and thinking positively? Probably to a psychologist there is a big difference, but to me, they kind of seem the same sometimes. See, thinking positive is just the opposite of feeling those dark feelings. For example, I could be thinking of all the things I'm going to miss when Laura goes away. There are a lot of things, and the idea makes me cry for serious. My plan is to live in complete and total denial of those feelings and force myself to think of little things I am excited to do (see: #6 something to hope for). Maybe it's a dumb idea to pretend that I don't feel lonely when I am, but you know what? I don't want to be lonely. I will tell myself that I'm happy until I'm actually happy. I will use all the psychological force in the world to make myself happy. It's not a life plan but until things change that's what I have to do.

2. Listen to Irrelevant Music

Music touches a sensitive chord with a lot of people. When I'm lonely all I want to do is be alone and listen to sad music. Obviously this is part of the downward spiral.

WHAT I RECOMMEND:

+ Every disney song I can possibly think of (I have been listening to "Kiss the Girl" from The Little Mermaid on repeat for the past 3 days)

+ Lady Gaga (not that she's irrelevant, just that I don't want to cry every time I listen to her)

+ Phoenix

+ some Tegan and Sara

+ most stuff that comes on shuffle

WHAT I AVOID:

+ Bon Iver ("Good Winter"?? Justin Vernon was shut up alone in a cabin in the middle of winter for 3 months writing these songs. These songs were MADE for lonely winters/cold weather/feeling like dying)

+ Iron & Wine

+ most Bright Eyes songs

+ some Death Cab for Cutie

+ "Angel" by Sarah McLachlan

3. Compartmentalize Your Crying

I'm pretty sure I'm going to cry at least once, most likely 10 or more times, in the next few months. Crying is kinda tricky though, 'cause there's good crying and bad crying. Good crying feels good. It's like a weight off your shoulders. Bad crying feels like choking and despair and a downward spiral. Bad crying is crying for no reason.

My advice to myself: It's okay to cry over spilled milk, I think. Let's be real -- "spilling milk" sucks, especially when it's all the milk you had and the grocery store is closed. Can you cry and clean up at the same time? 'Cause then you're okay. I mean, maybe not, 'cause you have no milk. But you must recognize that life goes on.

Also, think about crying with someone rational or else you might take a sudden dive and start crying because your best friend in the 3rd grade called you chubby. It's easy to start crying about something small but then end up because of everything in the whole entire world. It's important to avoid this because it doesn't work with #1 and will probably make you want to listen to the music on your AVOID list.

4. Find Something To Do

This is like that Sims thing. Make sure you eat and pee and sleep. Make sure you have fun! Make sure you see your friends. Do all the things you would make your Sim do, except do them faster. Try to not be bored as often as possible. Distract yourself because then it'll be easier to be in denial about your loneliness. I like to make to-do lists. Currently my list is full of things like "buy a new razor" which I've had there for over a month. I accomplish more pressing things faster. Try something new! Since I'll be living on my own for the first time ever, I have to make all my own meals so I'll be trying a lot of new recipes and experimenting in cooking. If that's too boring for you, join the fencing club. Do your homework.

Avoid being alone. Even if you want to, but especially if you want to. Sometimes when I'm lonely I lie on my bed and stare at my ceiling and if I lie there long enough I begin to trick myself into thinking I don't exist. This is kind of a scary thought. The way to fix this is make contact with the outside world. I don't think it means you have to go out with 20 people for 5 hours. Hang out with one friend for half an hour. Invite them to your house and keep your pyjamas on. If even that's too much, go to the store and ask the employees some questions about whatever it is they're selling. Wear your pyjamas if it makes you feel better. As long as you make a connection with someone. It doesn't have to be a lasting one. Just make sure you still exist. Okay?

5. Something To Like

I'm not entirely sure what Joseph Addison means by "something to love". Does he mean find a person to love? 'Cause that's something that could take, literally, a lifetime. Does he mean a hobby? 'Cause that's kind of like "something to do".

I'm going to assume he means find something that you like more than other things. Sometimes I have to do things that I don't want to do and that would be filed under "something to do" and not "something to love".

Finding something to love sounds to me like finding a serious passion that you might want to pursue as a career or something and I don't think I'm ready to declare that yet, so I'm sticking with something to like. I like to read and take pictures and play the guitar so I'm going to try and do those things in my spare time.

I think the point is to not get caught up with work/school/stress. Do something for you.

6. Something To Hope For

Living in the present is good because we should appreciate the things we have, except sometimes there are shitty days. On those days, we should remember that there's always tomorrow.

Like I said before, I'm really excited for my aunt to visit on Sept. 19th. And after that, I'm not so sure, but I assume there will be something to look forward to. Probably the Phoenix concert in October. November is for some reason considered the month of depression, but it's also the month of my birthday, so there must be something good happening there. And then, you know, we'll see. The most important thing to know is that even if you're lonely now, you will not always be lonely. I won't promise a lot of things, but I will promise you that. There's always something to live for.

"Sometimes you're flush, and sometimes you're bust, and when you're up, it's never as good as it seems, and when you're down, you think you'll never be up again. But life goes on."

- Blow

++

"Why do the stars shine?"

"The stars shine so we can locate each other when we're far away. So I can see, 'I see the big dipper,' and you can say, 'yes, I see it too.'"

The Supreme Art of Letting Go

The slow change of summer to fall, and we sit in denial. It's not quite happening yet, but you begin to think to yourself that you need a new pair of boots, and your mind briefly passes over that sweater you will wear when the weather changes -- it hasn't changed yet. But you know it will. It's happening right in front of your eyes.

For a while you refuse to shed the light t-shirts and shorts, until, undeniably it is fall and then possibly winter, and your shoes are wet from snow that melts when it touches the ground. But you still don't wear those boots, and your jacket is a sweater inside of which you shiver once or twice. One day you wake up and go outside and your breath catches in your throat and you know it's time to get the heavy-duty stuff; the hats and gloves, longjohns, big sweaters, and the hibernation attitude that allows you to trudge through dirty snow on your way home, where you will wear all these things. The days are short, but you knew this was coming. You saw it happening, it happens every year. But you are just not ready.

++

Slow change is like this. You wake up next to somebody and know that soon your bed will be empty, because summer is leaving and you are hungry. You can see the day when there will be no more hot whispers in your ear, no more christmas lights in August because it is no longer August, no more warm fireplace, no more warm body next to you, no more fingers on green shirts, no more kisses or touches or toothy grins kissing touching toothy grins.

Denial is easy and you hold on to it for as long as possible, but little by little you put the sweaters in the front of your closet, preparation for the coming cold. You don't wear them yet though. Summer is leaving, you know this, but you are just not ready for it to go. Knowledge does not make it easier, in fact, very little makes it easier.

++

You feel, and you let yourself feel it. You let the fall sharpness bite you, just for a second, before you wrap yourself up, and you hold it inside yourself, and then you inhale and exhale and you let it go. You breathe the cold air out and then you breathe in and out some more, because that's what you have to do, breathe the cold air out of your lungs until there is no more, and then you walk. You walk and talk and breathe and move your fingers like a human being with human tendencies. You make sure to wear your thickest coat to soften the blows until it doesn't feel like punching anymore. And that is all you need to do, for now at least. And you will emerge. You will emerge.

sometimes you're flush and sometimes you're bust

"i'm interested in applying for the job," i said, motioning to the sign outside the restaurant that said they were hiring.

"do you have your cv?"

i gave it to him. he looked at it.

"you have no experience."

"i know, but i'm a fast learner."

he wrote 'no experience' at the top of my resume.

"we're looking for someone with experience, but we'll see if something comes up."

when do you think is a good time to go back and convince him to give me something to do, give me some money? tuesday, or wednesday? or thursday?

okay, so maybe i didn't even know what the restaurant was called, maybe i had to look it up, but who cares, i am smarter than most people and this man should pay me to take people's orders. maybe this is a dumb summer job in between american eagle and getting paid to write this shit, but who cares, the future is bright.

in 5 years i want to make you wish you knew me right now.

there is no such thing as eye contact on skype

skype is this really great invention that let's you see and talk to someone else anywhere in the world provided you both have a computer and skype. skype is free. you can even get skype on your iphone. skype is kind of like a phone, but free. free calls! anywhere in the world!

i spend a lot of time on skype. so much, that i've developed a bitterness towards it. 'cause you can't touch anyone on skype. and when you close your computer at night, you're alone. and when you look at someone, they can't even tell. and when they look at you, you don't even know. you can't really see anything, just pixelated faces, mouths frozen or lagging.

yesterday i biked to the house i used to live in. i just biked by, quickly, because i saw mr. vaillancourt sweeping his drive and i didn't want him to notice me if i stopped. i wonder how old he is now. the entire street looked unchanged, but everything was. there was a mini statue of jesus in our old garden.

i rode past my elementary school, through the park and the trees i used to climb, past shannon's house, past shane's house, through the grass into the forest where the kids make mountains in the dirt to do bike tricks. the only difference between now and then is that the mountains are bigger now. i guess we are too.

if you had told me 7 years ago that i'd be here now, moved across the main street to a new house, making no eye contact on skype, i would have said what the hell is skype.

i'm moving again, too. or trying to. growing up is stranger than i thought it would be.

remember when everything was new, before this was a habit? i had butterflies in my stomach and shivers right to my fingertips. sometimes i can't believe this is real.

Dear Diary, Summer's Almost Here

Dear diary,

Last night I went downtown to watch the Habs game and that was only slightly insane, with people climbing trees and streetlights and setting off firework/flare things. I had my last Liberal Arts class ever today. I feel like it's one of those things where I'll wake up in the middle of the night in July and start crying about it and then forget about it later. One more class and an exam and I'm done CEGEP forever unless I failed the english exit exam, which, I mean, like, probs not. I have a $4.50 library fee too. Somehow, in my own stupidity, I managed to forfeit a good 17-18% of my mark in one of my classes so instead of getting a high grade I'm getting a low grade, so that sucks. I'm torn between caring and not caring. Concordia won't accept my acceptance of their acceptance so as of right now I'm still not going to university in the fall but my high school finally called and they're going to mail my transcript to UBC but I doubt I'm going there anyway so that's that. Summer soccer has started so that means the imminent collapse of my lungs as I get back in shape after not moving for an entire year except to run to the bus stop. Oh, and I'm getting paid tomorrow too.

I can't wait till days don't exist anymore and everyday is Saturday. My summer schedule for work is available open - close every day except that one week in June where I go to New York and do this again.

That's all for now, diary,

xoxo,

Emily

I'm Not Really Sad, I'm Just Trying to Become a Better Person

but then i thought, "what if i never grow up?" i mean legitimately grow up. what if i'm stuck in this awkward year where my parents still do my laundry but i buy my own toothpaste and i take the bus to school and i can't drive and i don't know how to do banking or

there's a fear of growing up, but what if i just don't? what if i'm that person who can't do things for themselves? what if i can't have real relationships with people or if i live with my parents forever and they wash the dishes every night, what if i never learn to be a person, what if all my friends grow up and blow away...

and what happens if i can't get a job? what happens when i forget how to learn? will i have my own set of cutlery will my bed always feel so big and empty who will pay for my retainer to be fixed? who will say "i'm sorry", who will apologize, who will take the blame who will feel bad feel pity who will look down at me and say i'm sorry i failed and will i say i'm sorry i failed i never ever ever grew up i just never never learned i just stuttered and stuttered all my life.

what happens if i never figure out how to cook a chicken? what happens if i forget how to use the toaster? what happens if my hands fall off!? what happens if i forget how to write, do people suddenly become illiterate what happens if that's me, that's me, that's me. what happens if no one reads my book what happens if i don't write a book because my hands fell off and my eyes fell out and i have no goddamn legs. i'm just a box, i'm just a box, i'm a square and is someone sorry now, will someone take the blame, will someone claim responsibility for the empty cardboard box out there on recycling day?

what if i never learn how to tell a good plum from a bad plum or where the potato section is, what if i can't pay my library fines what if i can't find the library? what if i disappoint my grandmother? who is going to write about me? does anyone listen in class? what if i'm the person who forgets how to ride a bike? and i have to learn twice? my legs are gone! i just wanna wear suave shoes again. cardboard legs and cardboard shoes recycle me. i don't wanna cycle, recycle revenge. if i ever go away, who will buy me tea?

what if i have feelings and no one else has so many feelings and i drown other people, what if i drown people with me. like what if who i am is too big. what if i am a giant ocean wave, enveloping bodies and beaches and sand -- what if when i write i actually sound like obasan, the worst novel ever.

and what if i screw it up, what if my feelings consume me. what if i screw it up by being afraid of screwing up.

one day the lights will go out in my room and they will not turn on again. one day the boxes will be filled, they will be moved and loaded onto a van, the house will empty, the walls will be bare. one day we just will not be there.

[all pictures from before i die i want to]

++

I have thought about it and I have decided that my greatest fear is not dying, not not living, not "moving forward", but ignorance. More than being ignorant or naive, I don't want to be stupid. I don't want to think I know things but get them wrong. Socrates wouldn't like that. I never want to drown in my own confusion. I hope that I always strive to be better, be smarter. I hope I never settle for anything less than I deserve. I hope I stop thinking that I don't deserve happiness. I hope I never forget what learning actually is. I hope I never forget the person that I am right now, and the things I believe in. I hope that people never listen to me and think to themselves that I am stupid or that I don't know what I'm talking about. I hope I always present myself as an intelligent, well-read, creative woman. I hope that my intelligence never goes away -- I don't care what I look like, how tall or short I am, where I live -- I hope that I never stop reading and thinking and solving because that is the core of who I am.

Read my book, 'cause it's gonna be written.