behead this woman, she's a hurricane.

she's tapping her toes and you can feel it in your fingertips.
her skin looks soft and you want to let her know that.
the wind blew the patio furniture down the alley and the neighbours thought it was a gift.
you put "heavier patio furniture" on your list of things to buy in the spring.

she spends all your money in malls, trying on clothes she thinks you'd like to see her in. you tell her consistently that she looks better naked in bed by your side. you think you could love her, if only she learnt how to sit still. she never sits still, you don't think she knows how.

she plays you notes out of chords on a dusty guitar.
you pretend to play trumpet and purse your lips as tight as possible for the high notes.
she turns off the television so that there is nothing but silence and the steady beating of hearts. you've always liked when she did this. and tonight is no different.

the wind blows outside and you picture your neighbour placing the white plastic mounds in his yard beside the potted plants and the swimming pool which leaks air. he's starting the barbecue to cook chicken nuggets.

she loves you, yea yea yea is playing on the radio in the morning as she untangles from your body to sashay into the bathroom before you can see her. unadulterated. pure. fully.

secretly she likes when you stare. she will never let you know this.

who needs love when the sandwiches are wicked and they know you at the macs store?

so i tried snowboarding for the first time last night.
i'm pretty much incapable of turning on my heel edge, carving or getting up the non bitch way, but i like to get low on a board and fly down a hill at high speeds only to get half way back up the hill on the toe rope while a little girl 1/4 my size on skis gets right to the top every time.

i'm so sore today. i also hit my head kind of hard yesterday (i had a helmet though. safety first) and i think it made me a big baby. my room is a total mess, my body feels 96 and all i want to do is lay in bed and fall asleep to BBC 4 documentaries about higgs molecules and antimatter.

however, i made jello to take to work with me today. it's flavored like marguritas.

i am burnt out from school. this whole year is just tiring me out.
i started saving chump change for a trip to vancouver this summer.
eventually my room will be so clean and devoid of things i don't need that it can't be messy ever.
i am coming down with a cold.
just for laughs show on the 30th, looking forward to it.
when is reading week again?

but i know you mean "if you feel like dancing, dance with me"

for the time being, i will be danceless.
but that's ok. end of an era.
we had a great run and a good send off. well, if we ignore the violence, the idiots and the fatigue.
i loved it. i love you guys.
and i love this dumb feeling i get. the stupid smile. the girly thrill in the v of my ribs.
but i don't like the rush of skepticism i get afterwards.

i should have done it. i mulligan'd it in my dreams though. and it was amazing and everything i wanted it to be. then there was a high 5 which made it even more awesome.

it was nice. and i love my friends. we're good people.

and the man in the middle seat recites his timetables audibly... but i know he means "if you feel like dancing..... dance with me"

down in albion.

hours in total:

being awesome and social: 2 hours.
almost falling asleep: 1.5 hours
pretending to sleep: 3 hours
actually sleeping: 5 hours
eating pancakes and watching back to the future 2 (also, laughing): 0.02 hours.
assembling ikea furniture (upside down and wrong): 0.4 hours
cleaning room: 2 hours
re-alphabetizing books: 0.3 hours
dusting: 0.1 hours.
playing fable II and generally being useless: 9 hours.

success. new years day remained a "hi, i'm lazy as fuck" day!
maybe tomorrow i'll shower and do something. maybe.

i loved as hard as i could

as i write this, i am off of a shift at work, after a day of a semi new haircut and illness.
i feel foreign in my skin when i think of everything that happened over the past year. i also feel that it is kind of important for me to summarize one of the most life changing years of my life, so bear with me.

january. a month of pills and misery. strep throat, twice. chest infections, pinkeye (what am i, 7? who gets pinkeye when they are 21?). bitterly cold days and sleepless nights. with sleepless nights comes over analyzing and that took its toll. i don't think i'll ever not dream of leaving. i missed you, and him oddly enough. i don't think i'll ever not dream of what could have been either.

february. summarized by loneliness, maybe. it's funny how whenever he's in my life my mood and hopes and dreams changes. he's a black hole and my whole centre of gravity shifts. odd. this month also marked the decision to stop taking my meds. i feel like my days of anti depressants are years away as well. it's odd to remember being on them so little time ago. but one drug was substituted for another.
i missed that summer, i missed being around you. i missed feeling needed, i missed everything that came with having a crush that went a little too far one year where it all came together. i hope you are well.

march. LUNAR LANDING DOCUMENTARIES. ROVING MARSSS. i wanted you to break your own rule so hard. theatre history. i couldn't keep up. leveling out never felt so ok... not ok. good. i felt good. i wanted to be touched. i needed to be loved, but by no one else. the realization that sigur ros is what being in a womb sounds like. fetal positions. fear of suits and griefcases.

april. missing puzzle pieces, waiting for grass. BLONDE. i don't want to be bitter or cynical. i care too much. i still wanted you and needed an imaginary friend. "it's pretty much the same. the vibration just replaces love and intimacy". equating the rush of exercise to sex never looked better on me. acceptance yielded a new relationship, the task of liking someone took much of my time.

may. the division between pleasure and necessity. allowing oneself to feel and beginning to sleep. allergies. allergies. allergies. fantasies about library sex, rutherford you hound. impending birthdays and eating the marshmallows last. feeling like i'm good with someone, like i almost fit. the red dress. THE HIVES (you blew my mind). nonstop dreaming of the pacific. the contact of skin on skin and that unhibited afterglow.

june. the end of rebelling against what i thought was the enemy. the acceptance of tanning. the beginning of a goal and the need for a passport. full blown simmiing- complete with facebook album. yet another pre-life crisis involving the idea of leaving. sometimes i don't know how i get through the day without jumping in a boxcar, thanks jack kerouac. VW camping and sunshine on my face and the impending feeling that i don't think this is what we wanted. bike freedom and cemetery thinking. i tried that night. i hope you know that.

july. fireworks in the park with you by my side. hot weather and barefoot and fancy free. countdowns to westward travels. nelson: freedom, mountains, hippies, the sense that I BELONG HERE I DO I DO, looking at the water with my eyes half shut, pretending it was the ocean. handwriting in the sand, seashorses, embrace this life you will live soon. i missed you, you know. i thought often of what you were doing while i was gone and wished i could be apart of it. i don't want to grow up.

august. i wanted to be better. a lot better. i knew then i couldn't love you but i held on because maybe i could change that. i liked you more when you cared and laughed with my family. RED! countdown to vancouver never felt so good. wandering around with jordan in the city i fell in love with, dead crabs and barnacles and being rejected by the one who shouldn't be rejecting me. i knew then that it was over. katydids. refusing to be the goodie bag at your pity party and enjoying the company of friends.

september. it's over. chemical reactions:hysterical and useless. school starts, i dedicate myself to trying for once. musicians club, gateway, makes new friends with people who are still heavily involved in her life. film crew. happiness and freedom with a suspicion she still can't shake. learning that it's easier to get over someone when you are so fucking angry at them. running into friends at random and catching up with people i thought i'd lost. river valley wandering with dirty jeans and ruined shoes. good bye jeffrey, apparently. auditions = success. musicactingmusicactingmusicacting and coconut black tea by myself.

october. cough syrup and kerouac. nuclear, stagnant water by cameron smelling like the ocean. restless and looking west. coffee date and intense fantasy. i'd have sold my skin for you. rehearsals and lack of sleep and lack of confidence and lack of sleep and lack of time and lack of sleep and lack of love and lack of sleep. rehearsals.

november. stress doesn't do your laundry for you. 14 hours X 6 days, stress. school stress. acting, rehearsals, tech week, tech run, cue to cues, HOW MANY TIMES DO YOU THINK WE'LL HAVE TO DO THIS AGAIN? bets? 1? 10? 35? cute. so cute. fantasy, lusting, cute cute cute. conversations, questions, hidden motives and prospects. "do you think so? i don't know... do you REALLY think so?" blush. acting, fucking them if they can't take a joke. i love this place. i love this stage. those stairs are dangerous. my life is this theatre. my life is these people. i'll miss this. i missed it. i kissed it. i drank it, i felt it, i expelled it and i mourned it. and it feels like it happened a year ago. stress in catching up and constantly falling behind. BROWNish.

december. icantfocusicantfocusicantfocus and everything fell apart. C'S GET DEGREES. SEES GET DEGREES. SEAS GET DEGREES and c's did get a degree. i missed her. i still fucking miss her. it never gets easier at christmas does it? bachelor machines and hating winnepeg full of wishful thinking and realizing i am a broken soul with good intentions and fear in my eyes. i missed you, but we made your favorite! maybe it's not about where you are but who you're with. remember that next time it hurts when that street no longer feels like a place you belong. reunions and reunited feelings for the one who i can't touch.

thank you to my friends and family. i love you so much even if i never say it. you keep me sane and happy and for that, i owe you infinitely.


and the slate is wiped clean.

this is where you place a melody.

i spent half an hour on christmas eve, formulating some blog worthy opinion, some sort of enlightening piece of non-fiction to tantalize the minds of random people who accidentally stumble on to this space of mine on the internet. something intelligent. something honest. something true in both emotions and nature. something important.

but then i thought about it instead. and felt what i felt.
and now i have no need to write about anything here.

i hope christmas was magical and enlightening and full of emotion and nature and honesty and truth and intelligence.

mine was.

the guess who sucked, the jets were lousy anyway

the similarities between these two machines resides first in the fact that they both operate as closed circuits and second as the action of one zone upon another. in both of these machines a message from the upper zone is inscribed upon the lower one. the fact that one is about sex while the other is about death underscores the importance of the modern myth of the bachelor machine, a sort of new technological version of the mirror of narcissus, in which is played out the interferences of machinism, of terror, of eroticism, and of religion or anti-religion. the myth of the bachelor machine is a kind of double articulation of difference: sexual difference and machinic difference.

i don't feel like running, i need a massage, i feel wonderful even though my cheeks have a mind of their own, peppermint ice cream is great, my bed isn't big enough for the one of me, callouses come back!, sleep perchance to dream?, don't ruin this, she never knew the rules, the wind is pushing me elsewhere, metal spoons and dreams of doom, 3xx23x, freedom, i did it to myself, let's enjoy our last evening together before we all go different ways, i'm so glad i have you guys.

i'm going through my "in love with love and lousy poetry" phase again. it's the blurring of the streetlights while the world blows away that does it.