in the wintertime when i met you

you were gentle and i was rough
i didn't know what to do so i kissed you
in the wintertime
you picked me up on the corner so i wouldn't get lost
in your house, dark with red christmas lights
and those yellow lanterns in your room
i didn't know what to do so i kissed you
in the wintertime
everything was warm
and that's how it was when i met you

those things you do will all catch up to you

in china i danced alone to the smiths in some strange rooftop bar, not even lonely at all.

girls who dance.
girls who sing.

people who sit alone in crowded bars. i don't understand and will always understand their desire to be close to the crowd but not in it. in the middle of the dance floor,

i too, prefer the darkness.

if you asked me, i would ask for the quiet at 5:43am
when no one is mad at me because i haven't screwed up,
and my sorries haven't piled up,
and i'm running to catch the first metro
to get to work on time.

february, you're a piece of shit, always

february you're ruining my life what the hell do you think you're doing stop fucking snowing

forever and ever you're the worst month of the year i hate your guts and i hope you melt

texting with my dad in the winter

jan 24 2013

it's so cold in my room

do you need extra blanket? supposed to warm up soon

it's too late i am an ice cube

:(

i'm so happy i have my friends

me: do you ever worry that you are actually an insane, irrational person

n: i pretty much talk myself off of that cliff daily.

//

me: if i go to topman and buy things what kind of person does that make me

r: a sophisticated one

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.

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)

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.

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

For my contemporary canadian fiction class.

Things That Are Killing Me Slowly

1. academia

2. my uterus

3. winter

4. the patriarchy

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.

hi so this is the new year

hi i'm oscar here to bring you a very special message about life which i know a lot about despite only being 7-9 months old.

firstly i don't even know why i have to say this because everyone should know this by now but open bars are a bad idea. the number one rule of life is "don't be too drunk" and open bars result in a direct contradiction of this rule. alcohol is this very silly thing that makes people think it is a good idea to text their crush or jump on the subway tracks or get naked in public.

secondly emily is lying in bed like a dead person because she violated the number one rule of life and she lost her earrings. maybe she should do the dishes or put on some pants but she just can't. now she is suffering the consequences of her actions which i do not approve of because if you come home and have to shut the door so the cat can't get in your room because you don't want him to see you then you are probably doing something wrong.

thirdly emily's number one problem in 2011 which i know a lot about despite not being alive for the entire year was anxiety about other people. i think this is stupid because emily is a smart caring person who always feeds me on time the best that she can but for some strange reason she is overcome with crippling doubt/panic/anxiety that other people think she is something other than what she is. although she doesn't really know who she is so she is also often confused and convinced that maybe she should be who other people think she is or that maybe she is already that person and or that she is a person entirely created by other people's perceptions of herself and what is free will anyway? she's not sure she has to think about it more.

from autostraddle.com

fourthly i been to a lot of places and seen a lot of things and i just have to say that i just don't understand people. i mean what are these portable telephone things that keep bringing drama into everyone's lives. here is a cat's advice: stop drinking (so much) and stop drunk texting. i like it better when people read books in bed instead of texting in bed because paper tastes better. i like to chew paper. also everyone thinks that looking a certain way is very important but it's not really. dogs are colour blind so they don't even know what you're wearing anyway.

in the end it doesn't matter who kissed who last night or that emily's eating processed cheese on a burnt bagel right now. she just wants what we all want: free delivery on new year's day. 2011 was a great year because i was born and 2012 will be even better because i will be there for all of it and there is so much opportunity for snacks. 2012 is the year of snacks.

thank you drive safe,

oscar

are there snacks out there

life is sweet in the belly of the beast

i've disappeared from the internet for the past few months. the truth is that i've just been living real life instead. i'm sorry because the internet has given me so much and not sorry because it feels good to live, and i think i'm actually happy even though i don't believe happiness is a real sustainable feeling.

my internet friends probably have forgotten i exist; my real life also probably hate me because i'm always at work. work counts as real life, right? 'cause i've basically given up my right arm and leg and firstborn child to my job. it might not even be a real job, i haven't decided yet.

rory culkin

sometimes i'm more okay with not knowing who i am than others. i know i've changed, i can feel myself changing and sometimes it's scary because i said i wouldn't become this person. but here i am and i'm just me and sometimes that's okay and sometimes i don't like it but i'm learning to live with it. i'm trying to be less stressed on the bus when i think i'm late.

i don't know what i want or who i want but i have some ideas i think. like maybe film school so i can tell my stories better. or something else but i don't know yet. i guess i'll just have to see, then, right?

for now...i'm off to toronto for 2 days then back on boxing day to work. i'm tired but excited about things and i don't really know what's going to happen in the new year so i'm just going to go with it. enjoy the holidays, my friends.

st laurent to mont-royal

When we climbed up to the top of the mountain it was like 4am and I was pretty drunk. It was cold it was sometime in November I think. No, it must've been October because Ryan didn't hate me yet. It was just me and him and Karen and I think Ryan liked her at that time. I liked Casey but she kept getting me down. That night I had seen her outside the bar sitting on some other guy's lap and ignoring me, well screw that.Why do girls do that. Let's go to the mountain Ryan said. You'll feel better. So we went up the mountain and I was feeling pretty down and Ryan and Karen were racing each other. Karen was so fast it was like they were so free and I felt heavy 'cause I couldn't run as fast as them. But when we got to the top the air was so fresh and I didn't care about anything anymore. Except maybe I was feeling down that Ryan and Karen were making eyes at each other. We stuck ourselves in a telephone booth to keep warm and wait for the sunrise. We must've listened to Bon Iver because whenever I hear "re:stacks" I think of running up the mountain and the view and the cold air. But later that song would come to mean something else to me and that was alright. The sunrise wasn't even that good I think it was on the other side of the mountain. But after that night I didn't care about Casey anymore. We went down the mountain and I was feeling pretty good about it and I fell asleep on the bus.

That was all before Karen moved to Thailand and I met Lainey who's a good girl. I don't get drunk anymore but sometimes I miss those days when it hurt to breathe. I guess no one's hurt me like that since then so I never needed to go back. Everyone changes I learned so we just grew up like everyone else. And growing up doesn't mean not fitting in telephone boxes anymore it means not wanting to or not even being there to do it. Shouting "fuck you Casey!" into the night doesn't mean anything anymore. When we were young we used to hear our voices ring around the city, now we just hear it in our heads. We don't let people get us down like Casey got me down anymore. But sometimes I miss climbing the mountain thinking that's what love is.

How To Make The Perfect Sandwich

ingredients:

+ 2 slices of bread

+ cheese (I like to use goat, cheddar, and jarlsberg)

+ tomato

+ onion

+ avocado (optional)

+ balsamic vinegar (optional)

1. Do whatever you do to prepare to fry an egg. For me this means olive oil, a pan, and a stove set to medium-ish heat. On the side somewhere, prepare your sandwich.

2. Fry your egg. Now this is an important part: I like my eggs over-easy with a runny yolk, but in this sandwich you can't have a runny yolk because it'll just be too messy. So I usually let the yolk harden (is that the right term?) so that when I put it in the sandwich and press down it doesn't explode everywhere. I like to put salt, pepper and dried basil leaves on my egg.

(note: I also put chili flakes here because I was feeling dangerous. Also I suck at cracking eggs.)

3. Remove the egg from the pan and place it in your sandwich. I usually put a little bit of balsamic vinegar on the egg now.

4. Grill your sandwich until the cheese melts or you get too hungry.

5. Eat it!

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.”

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.

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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.

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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.