Two days prior to any package being found, i was out on the block, with thoughts of my birthday floating around. A smile creeps across my face.
"acid? how did she know?" I giggled to myself, wondering if the premenition would come true.
When i got the book shaped parcel in the mail the first name out was Jack's, but i had intended to say Allen's.
Wonderfully ideal.
I'm gonna get out. It's a beautiful day. I'll sees ya.
c/o Ash Harker
Windfirm Resources Inc.
3496 Nadina Pl
M/A PO Box 3292
Smithers, BC
V0J 2N0
Nice comments. Seems like all a guy's gotta do is threaten self distruction and he's mister popular.
I'm hoping that comes across light hearted as opposed to cocky. It's hard to read into plain text. Black ink on white paper.
A visual representation of my thoughts.
Poured out onto the page.
Black ink on white paper.
One missing line.
While i was in Kelowna and Nelson I read Alistar Crowley's Diary of a Drug Fiend and in this book two people, lovers, do a lot of coke and heroin. The book is divided into three parts. The first part is adventure. Bright lights, fast times, a swirling social parade. The second part is horrid. Craving fueled ambitionless life. All purpose forgotten save the lust for more drugs. The third part is safe. End of tunnel kind of shit. A future.
Bottom line, I don't want to die. I'm not afraid of drugs. I'm not going to jump all over every experimental opportunity that comes my way. I will never lie about what i've done. And i am in no hurry to try anything i haven't tried (drug related, that is).
So i'd say you could probably all breathe easy.
In terms of lust and love in ladies, want can go a long way before need. It's best that way. Why would someone print NEED in capital letters?
Planting!
We started on the creamiest blocks you've ever seen. Twelve and twelve point five cents per tree. And in the first four day shift i threw down about eighty five hundred. That's a healthy grand in four days of work. I was feeling pretty damn fine.
Second shift (five days long) was a struggle. I was still putting in close to 2k every day, but the land was a little worse, the tree prices were a little lower. I probably made about a grand in five days, this time around.
Then our crew switched camps. Which means eleven of us, including my forman Ash, packed up our shit on our last day off (the day following five days on) and after spending an exciting sunday in the whirlwind town that is vanderhoof, we went and set up our tents at a new site, with a new batch of planters.
We caught up with them in the middle of their week. Arrived on day three. Meaning we planted day four and five, and had another day off. Very nice feeling. Yesterday I put in 2035 trees worth eleven cents each. And i worked damn hard for them. The first four day week is reaching fairy tale status.
Your love is some kinda fairy tale, and fate is something weakened by our dreams.
At the new camp there's a bunch more quality musicians. Last night was our DBDO, so we were all up damn late, nice bugless campfire three acoustic bongo session. Hilly tincan evening sitdown vision. I rocked those bongos like i had mere hours of limb use left. DBDO = Day Before Day Off. It's the night to stay up late, drink and smoke. It's freedom.
I'm having trouble not smoking. It's a good thing i'm not too serious about quitting, or else i might feel bad about it. Tobacco, for what it's worth. I'm only smoking like 2 cigarettes a day. I never smoke on the block (while working), but in the evenings around a campfire, people are rolling ciggies and it's very easy to accept an offer.
I've never used the word "ciggies" in speach.
Lots of music going on. Lots. I'm still waiting to write a happy song. But i'll try and be patient. Dark/whiny stuff might not be the social campfire sounds that your happiness is looking for, but I believe after an album or two worth of angst i'll have cleared out the webs of dead branches and the sun will find it's way through to the lawn. A picnic for one.
Everyone who sends a letter gets a response! All ink blots in my brain must go!
Sssssuper.
"acid? how did she know?" I giggled to myself, wondering if the premenition would come true.
When i got the book shaped parcel in the mail the first name out was Jack's, but i had intended to say Allen's.
Wonderfully ideal.
I'm gonna get out. It's a beautiful day. I'll sees ya.
Simon Arsenault
c/o Ash Harker
Windfirm Resources Inc.
3496 Nadina Pl
M/A PO Box 3292
Smithers, BC
V0J 2N0
Nice comments. Seems like all a guy's gotta do is threaten self distruction and he's mister popular.
I'm hoping that comes across light hearted as opposed to cocky. It's hard to read into plain text. Black ink on white paper.
A visual representation of my thoughts.
Poured out onto the page.
Black ink on white paper.
One missing line.
While i was in Kelowna and Nelson I read Alistar Crowley's Diary of a Drug Fiend and in this book two people, lovers, do a lot of coke and heroin. The book is divided into three parts. The first part is adventure. Bright lights, fast times, a swirling social parade. The second part is horrid. Craving fueled ambitionless life. All purpose forgotten save the lust for more drugs. The third part is safe. End of tunnel kind of shit. A future.
Bottom line, I don't want to die. I'm not afraid of drugs. I'm not going to jump all over every experimental opportunity that comes my way. I will never lie about what i've done. And i am in no hurry to try anything i haven't tried (drug related, that is).
So i'd say you could probably all breathe easy.
In terms of lust and love in ladies, want can go a long way before need. It's best that way. Why would someone print NEED in capital letters?
Planting!
We started on the creamiest blocks you've ever seen. Twelve and twelve point five cents per tree. And in the first four day shift i threw down about eighty five hundred. That's a healthy grand in four days of work. I was feeling pretty damn fine.
Second shift (five days long) was a struggle. I was still putting in close to 2k every day, but the land was a little worse, the tree prices were a little lower. I probably made about a grand in five days, this time around.
Then our crew switched camps. Which means eleven of us, including my forman Ash, packed up our shit on our last day off (the day following five days on) and after spending an exciting sunday in the whirlwind town that is vanderhoof, we went and set up our tents at a new site, with a new batch of planters.
We caught up with them in the middle of their week. Arrived on day three. Meaning we planted day four and five, and had another day off. Very nice feeling. Yesterday I put in 2035 trees worth eleven cents each. And i worked damn hard for them. The first four day week is reaching fairy tale status.
Your love is some kinda fairy tale, and fate is something weakened by our dreams.
At the new camp there's a bunch more quality musicians. Last night was our DBDO, so we were all up damn late, nice bugless campfire three acoustic bongo session. Hilly tincan evening sitdown vision. I rocked those bongos like i had mere hours of limb use left. DBDO = Day Before Day Off. It's the night to stay up late, drink and smoke. It's freedom.
I'm having trouble not smoking. It's a good thing i'm not too serious about quitting, or else i might feel bad about it. Tobacco, for what it's worth. I'm only smoking like 2 cigarettes a day. I never smoke on the block (while working), but in the evenings around a campfire, people are rolling ciggies and it's very easy to accept an offer.
I've never used the word "ciggies" in speach.
Lots of music going on. Lots. I'm still waiting to write a happy song. But i'll try and be patient. Dark/whiny stuff might not be the social campfire sounds that your happiness is looking for, but I believe after an album or two worth of angst i'll have cleared out the webs of dead branches and the sun will find it's way through to the lawn. A picnic for one.
Everyone who sends a letter gets a response! All ink blots in my brain must go!
Sssssuper.