my gut aches when it remembers all those perfect songs.
oh, how i miss my all-canadian, all-loving, music-making, guitar-picking friends.
why did i ever stop singing?

light,

wishing i knew morning well.

time goes toooo fast,

i like to pierce the skin of clementine’s, just so i can smell sweet orange all afternoon.
by the way: when i talk about one thing it usually means ive been thinking about it for a very, very long time.

i rhymed,

christmas is almost near/cheer/beer. i know this because i've smelly clementine hands.
wishing for a pup, cat, or baby anything to fill my christmas stocking. alas, my eyes, nose, ears and throat would not be too pleased.
but it would be nice to have something rely on me as i do so upon you.
hoping to one day take trains and automobiles to places i have never been. making plans! that will not happen, but its fun all the same.
i will have something interesting to say soon, i promise!
life, life, life. ohhh like a great novel.

fluttering on my finger

dreams of hummingbirds

dreams of my future.
longing/lovers/babies in my belly/some very good food.

gone,

last night i had a dream about my grandmother. she had come to see us, and my whole family scrambled together - we were all aching to see her. she had longer hair then before, it was down to her shoulders (like when she was young). we laughed and cried and hugged and ate. we were so happy, but so scared because we knew that in any moment she would disappear.
i caught her up on my life, she giggled and kissed me and said that she was proud, goodbye. then i awoke.
maybe this is the only way she can visit, i don’t know if i will ever see her again. for how can a mind exist without matter? how does a thought exist without the means to formulate it? it just does not follow. how can someone love while having nothing to contain it?

in anticipation of what is to come,

run rabbit, run.

am,

realizing the importance of human connection and physicality. we aren’t the best in many ways, but we do okay.
striving to become more organic, driven, and perfectly shaven.
chubby knees are not the worst thing.

pet,

lucy loves white antelope too!

note to self:

take more photographs, you are an artist.

wishing i still had the mind of a child.

still here, processing.

i feel the utmost amount of guilt when i think about my new job.
this is, by far, the most selfish thing i have ever done.

a misplaced hair, singing off key,

i dont like perfection. i like speckles and spots and scrapes and bruises. i like the little things that go wrong, the details that make everything unique. cracks and stains and rust and rips are whats best! i like things the most when they are in their natural state. as i get older, more and more, i am growing to love all things imperfect. all things are imperfect.

this month,

i saw the union of two and my grandfathers eyes have been cut straight open. i ripped up carpet! and tomorrow my mother and i will put down wooden floors. i feel so strong sometimes. i feel so sad sometimes, sometimes i feel happy. i have been thinking a lot about the past lately and im finding that i am not angry. i do not regret, i do not resent, i feel basically nothing. (but this may be a little more painful then pain itself. i expect certain things so that i am not disapointed. this will probably backfire huge one day when i am old and grey)
my job has been lost, my job has been lost, all of those peoples jobs have been lost.
my brother gets older on canada day.
i dont want to sound the same as anyone else.

this will be,

things are much slower and time is never wasted.

thinking about,

her.

thinking about,

a giraffes neck, stove top chai, trampolines.

thinking about,

mint on the roof of my mouth, comparing my body to fruit, all those spanish tongues.

thinking about,

a theme, a rhyme, a series.

the greatest compliment,

today my little girl neighbour told me i look like belle!
i wish, i wish.

summer days spent,

this summer is much better then the last. i have myself a new job - i am working at a candy factory. poetic, i think.
a delightful cast of characters accompany me. my neighbour and childhood best friend meaghan - with whom i share many memories of the past with (running into each other with sleeping bags! the little slide in her basement! getting pushed into pools! the little house/shed in her backyard! our crazy puppies playing with each other! and all of those nights our parents tucked us away and out of their hair). there are the ladies from newfoundland, whos accents completely devour everything they say and make them very funny to listen too. there is lola; the older, playful and leggy lady who always makes wonderful faces and sticks out her tongue at everyone. there's goreta from chile - quiet, with thick eyebrows and thighs, a mole on her lip and a voice of low baritone. there are the many old asian women who all have english names, madelina, rachelle and em - they are very hard to understand but adorable and delicate. and last but not least, there is 19 year old rambo - named after the sylvester stallone movie! amazing.
i hope that these months at home bring happiness and rest. the past two summers were terrible, because i was surrounded by horrible people and never got the chance to sleep or see anyone i loved. those days turned me into something awful and changed me completely. i hope that will never happen again.
lately i have learned that happiness truly is much, much more important than money.

he was full of tenderness;
she was very hard.
and as much as she tried to stay thus,
simply, and with no good reason,
he took her into himself,
and set her down
in the softest, softest place.

he's always there.

slowly,

"we're like elephants, you and i!"

swiftly,

here, time is fleeting. now its time to go back home.

follow the leader,

i hope i dont bore any of you. all of these posts are just little snippits of my thoughts - i would collaborate if i could.
i write better if i force myself, but then end up sounding all wrong and twisted.
lately i feel wrong and twisted.
its "refreshing".

school is over for now, and it makes me feel strange to think about.
(i feel like i only record the big steps i take.)

born in a garden,

tulips!
its true!

we're a ragtag bunch,

and i love the sound of my friends laughing!

death of the author,

how am i read?

quiet nights. home,

i like the little life we have set up for ourselves here.

still alive,

i have barely been online in the last week, and i have been horribly ignoring all of my journals/profiles/staus updates/and all other meaningless internet things. oh well.
anyways, an update:
1. fame is finally over, which i am very happy and very sad about. there was lots of misunderstandings and my fingers were sore from how much sewing i did, but it was fun and nice and all worth it because being apart of shows is always amazing.
2. lots of people have been coming to me for help and i really like that i can be that trusted.
3. in the past month i hated everything that i thought/said/did. i found that all of me was boring/unoriginal/or cynical. i didnt want people to think those things of me, so i basically said nothing for a couple days. everything i did would be torn up or erased or regretted. i kept on writing things that i never published. i think thats over, but if this is gone in the next couple hours the i guess its not.
4. school is great and i cannnnt wait until next year.
5. today i bought a big plant today and i reaaaally want to keep this one alive.
6. jason took me on the best date yesterday, AND he cleaned my room when i was super stressed about the show... best boyfriend ever.
7. my sister is stranded in frankfurt, i wish i was her.
8. i really, really want to travel somewhere soon. ive realized that i should not wait to be financially stable to do the things i want to do, because by that time i wont be able to. i should really do what i want right now, so im going to.
9. the weather is nice so im not a snowbird anymore.
10. and i have 2 papers due this week. time to work.

hopefully i will write more soon.

meadowlark

it has been a wonderful day.
(there is no snow anymore)

far too uninteresting,

i dont like who i am becoming.

re: ::

saddest post ever. im sorry she has gone because of me :(

not actually,

for now and the future, all i want is a simple life.
filled with art, tea, ___, books and music.

while looking at old photographs, i could smell her scent again.

untitled 1,

my bones are your bones.

i long to go to the place where my grandmother was born.

thorns,

i feel much more unattractive because i do not agree.

its been a while,

play costumes lots, cupcakes for dinner, photographs in bed. "im gonna live forever", making decadent sandwiches, i won jenga! resting on floors. reading lots, cover songs. fresh sheets, bleeding fingernails, sewing needles. cheap dinners, falling asleep. johnny cash, "oops, i dooo have an exam this week". plus degree weather! and nice walks! free car, old film, goat cheese. owls, owls, owls. secret love letters, secret poems, secret sex.
home in a few days. its been a while since i have seen home.

i am very stuck on epiphenomenalism.

where the water meets the sand

she sells them oranges by the shore, three for a silver piece, the last they'll taste of this sweet land, before they set out east. they walk with eyes fixed to the ground, never to see her face, one by one they come and go, never to see her grace. i hear them calling me to leave, the grace thats in her hand, thats all that i have ever known, the past and its command. this restless pull to wander seas, has held me like a leash- and never till she held me close, have i ever felt released. i've held the night with a drunkards hand, i've herd the dark sirens spell, i've woke the dawn in my own blood, from the bottom of a well. in the morning light she calls to me, and holds my calloused hand, she bids me to come lay with her, where the water meets the sand.

ive been finding the most comfort in things that are tangible. pens, pages, and leather bound bindings offer me the most protection this month. maybe soon/one day/some day i will type out all of my scribbled thoughts and share them with you. but as for now, they will be the only ones i confide in.

i hope that people can love me for what i really am. for what they dont know about me, what they could know about me, and all that is secret.
i dont want a half of anything. i want a whole.
i want to know all of you.

trouble;

underlined: the sea remains the unthinkable birth and death

on a happier note,
i really love pretty stories of a boy and a girl who cannot touch. sometimes drowning yourself in a scene is okay, as long as you dont ever forget the life that brought you there.
tonight "womens poetry in france (1965-1995)" was my favorite read (thank you, lovely girl!). it was best with fuzzy bathrobes and wet, sweet smelling shower hair. ive misplaced my glasses, so my eyes were trying to squeeze the letters right off the pages! (and it worked pretty well). i have found that those numbered 33, 107, and 201 are the best for my current state of heart.
la mer reste l'impensable naissance et mort