Life's really something. The simple matter of knowing who you are, knowing what you're working towards, knowing why you exist (not in a grand scheme, just in a personal sense) is all you need to be comfortable in alot of traditionally uncomfortable situations.
I yam what i yam. One of the worst thoughts i've confronted is thinking that other people want me to be something else, and feeling abliged to agree. Self assuredness might be a hard cake to bake. Might be easy. I wasn't self assured when i was younger. I'm going to try to list what my peace of mind politely asked of me.
1. Honesty. Personal honesty. I used a blog for things i wasn't afraid to share. A journal for things i was. Find out what makes me tick.
2. Belief in what is. Things are right the way they are. Not saying things are perfect. Just saying that we have an idea of perfection, and the ability to do our best to reach for it.
3. You must be willing to find what you're looking for. Duh, i know. But read it a few more times, see if something clicks for you. Like it did me.
I think i'll stop. I've gotta leave. And #3 was just something i wanted to write. When i wrote it i wasn't thinking of what the list was for; a good indication that it had gone off the wrong track.
Muchlove,
simon
Something like that. There's two sides to everything. The only worth is in the potential validity of each side's argument, and the unreachable truth which lies between.
What i'm trying to get at is this: it's always best to say everything on your mind. Or it's best to keep all personal things to yourself. Or 50/50; sometimes thoughts are best to express, and sometimes it's good to clam up. Or there is no such thing as good and bad outside of our petty minds, and the belief that i have control over my life is false and my head will ache endlessly because of it.
Something like that.
Jenny told me not to tell her about any women i came across while i wasn't with her. I wondered why she wouldn't want to know. Any feelings i had for her wouldn't change or disappear just because i came across a new girl and new feelings. Jenny told me about her getting a boyfriend. It sucked, but i got over it. The future can't be changed by something so trivial as the present. Heh.
That's a nice idea though. Thoughts only exist in the present. They are trivial. If what i'm thinking isn't a negative influence on my life, than it ain't no problem. I guess sometimes, brief moments today and yesterday, i've worried that my thoughts (although not increadably important (or at the very least, not negative) to me) might look weird, or not fit into someone else's thoughts. But what someone else may or may not think definately shouldn't be my concern, even if they've come into contact with thoughts of mine. Bottom line, worry is wasteful. Share your thoughts or dont, Newton, as long as you keep living as though nobody has ever lived before. There are no lessons you should already know. Wide eyed and full. A baby in the sky.
Something like that.
Peace and Love.
simon
These days, ah, these days. A little bit of love, yeah yeah yeah. Perfection is found in the hopes that remain intact. Still smiling, singing sadly, kept arms length away from bliss. The blues sound better than bubble gum. It's the only way it can be.
Friday the 23rd.
I went to a tight little highschool reunion sort of deal at kelley robinson's house. Saw the regular kids from grade 12. I won't name names, for fear of forgetting some. Justin Good, however, deserves particular recognition. I don't see alot of that kid. I figure neither of us would ever call the other. Same reason i never call my dad. Maybe i aughta. It's not that i dont care about him, it's not that we dont get along. It's that i get along quite well without. I dont go out of my way to do anything, really. Maybe i should work on that.
I brought about five and a half grams of mushrooms to the highschool get together scene. My plans involved eating some of them while walking to rob walker's place, bouncing back and forth between there and 3i (browns). Decent enough plan.
I had a great time at the first party. Maybe too good a time, cause i'd planned to leave at 10, and i didn't leave till about 11:30. Really enjoyed mr good. Nothing in common except our compatability.
When i got to robs, alot of the mush was eaten. I had small bits at the first party, but never intended to feel effects while i was there. Ate a bunch more when i hiked home to get my guitar. Rob's felt like a bit of a bust, but i think i was too full of a tired sort of anticipation to appreciate what was around me. Some real good kids, mike mahar, jamie power, kingsley ralling. But i jetted to three eye when there wasn't anyone to direct affection towards. I like having an interest.
Three eye was packed, it was their texas mickey party. I walked around for a while. Found one nice little lady to talk to, but her throat was destroyed, so she couldn't talk. We stood silently at the bottom of the stairwell for a while. Ask facebook, i take what i can get. Katie came and talked to me, and the silent one walked off. I polished my mush and paced around the loud party for a bit, finding a home near the fooseball table near the likes of steve simpson. Codiddy was also there.
I was thinking about leaving, going back to rob's with nick gormley, but i stayed for a little bit. Ended up running into craigfish mcleod and a sweet little asian bird that was making his company. Up until i looked at Tina Bouey i hadn't noticed the mushrooms, but she left me light as a feather. I decided that i was definately feeling something. I told her that i could look at her for like a half hour. I didn't think i was lying.
Team Craig (the only 1-man texas mickey team) and myself went off in search of anyother party he'd heard about. Loud noises were coming out of some other christmas party, so i decided it was a good idea to walk around said party, see if i knew anyone. I didn't, but i was very happy to walk around a strange house, looking at strange people. Mushrooms seek adventure, i was merely their shell.
Team Craig and I sang christmas carols at some house with people on the front step. People ask you to do things when you wear a guitar on your back. It wouldn't have been done without encouragement from team craig.
We get to the party location to find a darkened house. We walk by, go straight to robs. When we get to rob's place some people are splittin'. Mike Mahar tells me to go with them. This man fills me with trust, so i drop my guitar and hop into a cab.
(Just before the cab arrived, this wild car swings around the corner. The front right wheel is completely blown off, and there's damage to the front quarter of the car. Sparks are flying everywhere and we all had a nice laugh. It was a dazzling display.)
Cab picks up simon, jamie, pat pierden and kingsley, and heads to hunter's ale house. When we're out of the cab, king asks me how i'm doing and i get into some nice mushroom clichés about riding the feeling. Feeling mellow due to my lack of involvment with what is happening, but excited about being completely within the grips of fate.
Fugato is at hunters, worth a dance or two. Andrea Gallant, and a lady that i only know as jamie power's lady become parts of our party. Jamie's lady (and very possibly jamie) are on acid, and the two of them remain a source of otherworldly company and just plain entertainment for the duration of the night. I'm lightly introduced to a girl named lindsay. I'll remember her. She was introduced as someone smarter than the average girl.
I am in love with andrea gallant. We were an item in grade 5-6. Even though i didn't talk to her much due to a wall of shyness, all my unexpressed feelings still existed. I was always aware of her. And there's trust. All the trust in the world. It lets me feel like i know her even though i dont see much of her.
I took it personally when she was having trouble with her heels, and asked kingsley to give her a piggy back ride. He turned her down, and she didn't ask me. I asked why a little later and she said something about knowing kingsley really well, that he is a friend.
I thought that was weird, since in my mind i've known anne since we were in grade 1, and appreciated her on and off since grade 5. In my mind we're close. I haven't lived on the island much in the past five years, but i see her each time i'm around. At least a little. But in her mind i dont know her, we're not close. Kingsley is a friend. I couldn't argue. A fair sized reality check for the boy on mushrooms.
Eventually we made our way to a house to play some guitar and smoke some reef. I loved the piss out of a little instrumental dealie i like to call "the riddle". There's alot of people who are better guitarists than i am, two of them were there that night, but pound for pound i dont know if there's many better musicians. Of course that's a matter of taste, and of course i like what i play. I have a bias.
I got pretty stoned and walked home. Arrived at quarter past six. Woken up at 10:30 to pack for a halifax weekend. Slept during some of the car ride. I was void of energy but quite content.
***Interlude***
Go! Get yourself a drink of water. This post is already quite long, and i've got more to talk about. Come back another day if you must. I'm planning on talking about other days, so it almost makes sense.
***Interlude***
Halifax was a delight. Pretty low key, by holiday standards. I spent alot of time reading. Played a couple nice family games. My guitar was/is still in rob walker's apt. I watched the Eagles win a playoff clincher against dallas. Jeff Garcia, he's american, but his ties to the cfl are making me proud.
I got a pretty sweet stack of loot for christmas. In case you haven't heard, i'm going to venezuela. I got a spanish/english dictionary. I got a salmon colored hoodie. (which reminds me, the book i'm reading, The Ground Beneith Her Feet is written by Salman Rushdie) I also got a new journal, my old one was down to single digits in pages remaining. I got two killer books, both non-fiction and somewhat autobiographical. One for Bob Dylan, one for Allen Ginsburg. F' Yeah!
And i got two MEC bags, one big backpack one small daybagish. And a tight little sleeping bag. Color me prepared. Travel clock, canadian ID tags, some sort of passport holder booklet thingy. A killer pair of slippers.
Weekend also included some nice walks. My island aunt brought two dogs with her, so on christmas eve and christmas day there were trips to provincial parks for strolls. And good food. Good food in spades.
Which brings us to today. We drove back to the island this afternoon, arriving at 4ish. I had a bath first thing, to test out my new dead sea bath salts. Very relaxing and enjoyable time. I have a reason to take baths now, and i'm not disappointed.
I got in touch with Aine to find out when to go to Jon Gillis's birthday party. She said nine. I was there.
I borrowed a bottle of wine from my mom for the evening. She didn't seem super keen on it, so i got to thinking during my walk. I decided i wouldn't necessarily drink it. It'd be for emergancy.
When i got there, Brent Thistle (who i was later told has a dick which warrants him comparison to a tri-pod) offered me a rum and egg nog. I happily accepted, and put the wine on the counter, never to pick it up.
I chatted with Aine and Carley for a while before joining the party. Alot of great faces that i hadn't seen in a while. Janette, Janelle and Shannon were the early favorites although i didn't talk to janette too much. Other favorites include boys.
I am in love with jenna cook. That girl just has me. As much as i can be had, anyway. I don't see anything serious in our future but i also dont see these feelings disolving. She's a magnet. A pretty strong one. Only girl i kissed without obvious invitation. Obvious invitation became replacable by personal intoxication, but that's beside the point. The point has either already been made, or was recently lost on me.
Announced love twice in one blog post. Only the second one intended from the onset. It's a condition that i'm very interested in. I think i could truthfully use the word to describe three other relationships, but there's no need to get into that now. I think it's important that since the girls are all very different, the feelings are all very different. But the word means something to me. I'm glad i feel solid enough to say it. Or at least type it (for shame!) The feelings are mine, and i trust them, it's grooovey. It doesn't need to be recipricated.
Actually, if the word did come back to me, i'd be terrified. I think love to most people indicates a sort of belonging. Yikes. This ride is only built for one. It's just that the scenery is fantastic.
I realize that in my last post i said i loved a girl when i talked to her for five or ten minutes outside the arts guild. But that's a little different. Loved vs. In love. Past tense vs present. Not a minor detail.
I have got to get to sleep. This is madness. I've got a lunch date in 7 hours.
Peace-o.
I think my problem, if i have a problem (which i dont), is that i'm looking for love. I see alot of people that are very happy to be with other people. Couples and non-couples alike. It looks great to hit on people. Looks great to be hit on. Everyone is having a great time.
This may come as a great shock to anyone who doesn't know me, but i am a lonely drink of water. Maybe i'm lonely cause i'm shy, that's the sort of thing i've told myself before. It's easy (and admittedly logical) to think that a minor emotion (lonely;sad) is caused by poor actions. Ipso Facto: I'm lonely cause i'm shy. I'm lonely cause my standards are too high. I'm lonely cause i have low self esteem. I'm lonely cause i won't admit i'm gay, etc.
Trying to find a negative cause for my loneliness hasn't solved anything. If i didn't have my head on straight it might've even come to cause some emotional termoil. Sometimes i do get upset at myself for not talking to people. Battles faught inside my head. 'Oooh, someone else talking to her now, you missed your chance, you missed your window. Too bad you're so shy, with your low self esteem, or you'd be talking to her now. You'd be happy.' It's easy for me to find fault in myself, cause i believe the world is perfect. Looking at the matter at hand, the only problem is thinking that it's wrong to be lonely.
I'm lonely because i'm looking for love. I'll take love in the form of friendship. I'll take love in the form of a passing acquantance. But it's gotta be real love. If i'm not one hundred percent interested, then i'm wasting my time. I'm not here for cheap thrills at the price of my integrety. I'll take solitude. I'll take sadness. Deep breaths coupled with an unusual longing for tears (i love crying. It's like a reward for pure emotion).
It's not bad. It's really not. I believe i've got my health. And with health comes time. I've got time. I like looking.
I'm cold when i sleep though. I dont like that. I'd love to be kept warm. And I'm not sure if "ipso facto" is something that makes sense to people who aren't me. And i'm pretty sure i'm not gay. When i'm high my ideas can run off with that one, but once some sort of image solidifies i either become grossed out, or at the very least not interested. And i'm pretty damn sure i dont have low self esteem. I compare myself to buddha, jesus, einstein, oburst, beethoven, and i'm still pretty sure that i'm doing a good job on this life.
I dont think fault exists outside of myself. And i think that the passage of time is all the opportunity i need to fix myself. It's not a bad way to go.
Stephanie was outside the Guild tonight, after the show let out. I talked to her for about 30 seconds, and she went back inside. Dark hair, light eyes. I loved her.
Peace.
simon
I feel pretty great right now. If you asked me why, i'd tell you that it's cause i was jamming on some unwritten songs for the past few hours. I've got some lyrics down to a sweeeeeeeeet anti-war song called "battle on". I might tell you that i haven't eaten today, and i've polished my second mug of ginger tea, leaving me refreshed and aware.
But while these appear to be reasons to be happy, i dont think it's that simple. The last two days i haven't been all that happy. Could be the shortage of ginger tea. Could be the shortage of lyrical progress (although i did play the music and sing songs). Could be the woman. No woman no cry, i've heard. And while all i've seen of her is the car in my driveway, she's sure not gone from thoughts.
But the reasons for happiness and sadness are always empty. They're assumptions. And i'd guess they're all easily proven false. Just act some way everyday. You wont feel the same everyday. More and more, i'm thinking that mood determines our actions, and not the other way around. Where does this mood come from? Are the swings unhealthy? I'm not about to aim for a lack of emotion.
Peace and Love.
simon.
Sometimes i dont speak. It's not intentional. I prefer me when i'm speaking. I get annoyed at my lack of participation in what's around me. But i can't help it. I'm looking around for a place to fit, but i dont see me in anything.
So i listen. Often just to thoughts twisting and sorting themselves. Maybe they get more linear as the quietness flows between. Maybe they get more jumbled as i retire any attempts to express them.
Or i listen to other people. I'm aware of the effortlessness of their speaking, and i wonder why i'm mute. It makes me sad and frustrated. I can't do anything else. Sometimes i laugh at what people say. The noise of my laughter is a sound i'm intensly aware of. Half of me tries to shut if off immediately. Half of me is so glad that i'm suddenly audible, suddenly a participant, that it tries to sustain my voice. This results in a muffled and weak hum that quickly disapears into nothing. Guilt immediately punishes me for trying to exist when i had nothing to say. Self pity wonders why guilt has such a hold on me.
Keep silent, keep listening. Pray for a distraction from myself.
Strum a chord, play some fooseball. Things that i know how to do. My involvement in the physical world is all the distraction i need. I switch from referee to participant. It's alot better. I've gotta wonder if this judge is doing me any good.
I dont consider fate as what is meant to be. 'Meant to be' supposes that the end results are what drives the means. And the future does not have it's hands on the present.
When i think of fate, i like to use the word "natural". I think fate describes what happens when life is left outside of personal control. Fate/God/Tao is what takes over my body when i'm at my best. My fingers are strong and accurate. My wits are quick. And i'm seperate from my actions to the point where i can enjoy them like a third party would. Except i completely understand the context of my work. I enjoy my natural reactionary self a great deal. And i hate trying to do when i don't know what it is to be done. Cause then i'm running on the spot. Masterbating without the pleasure bursts.
Suppose this string of events i call my life is constantly within the spectrum of fate or intent. There's alot of grey. Sometimes actions feel so natural, so easy and justifiable, and they look so good in the context of history that it's almost as though they must have been. Intent can coincide with fate.
Also, a lack of actions with the effort of removing personal control from life can just as easily remove yourself from a course of action that fate was intending to bring you to. Same thing in other words: you're avoiding responsibility for your life by a concious lack of decision making. You believe that non-action must necessarily put you in the hands of what is not you (call it Fate/God/Tao). But you run the risk of seperating yourself from life itself.
Actions are also not without risk. Too busy in speech or in motion to see or feel what else could've been said/done. Sometimes patience and silence are the best tools we have to construct correct words and actions. But it doesn't work forever. It can't. If you're silent for your whole life than you'll never say anything. Duh.
Can i be quiet until i'm confident i know what needs to be said? Will that moment ever come?
I've got a few unfinished songs. Sometimes i think i should get off my ass and work on them. Sometimes i remind myself that the songs i've had in the past have come about gradually, and that i'm still working on everything i have, in a way. I'm hoping that a lack of direct action wont mean for a lack of results. I'm hoping that fate will step in, and force me to put some words down.
I want the world to use me. I feel very capable. But my personal goals and ideas for myself can't compare to what the world might want me for. Besides, the world made me. It deserves the products of my joyous efforts. I'll be satisfied knowing that i was used. I'm too good to be idle. I'm too good for personal use. Wish me luck.
So that's almost three months of spanish, hot weather and uncertain adventures. Lets hope i have a passport by mid jan, eh?
woo.
I yam what i yam. One of the worst thoughts i've confronted is thinking that other people want me to be something else, and feeling abliged to agree. Self assuredness might be a hard cake to bake. Might be easy. I wasn't self assured when i was younger. I'm going to try to list what my peace of mind politely asked of me.
1. Honesty. Personal honesty. I used a blog for things i wasn't afraid to share. A journal for things i was. Find out what makes me tick.
2. Belief in what is. Things are right the way they are. Not saying things are perfect. Just saying that we have an idea of perfection, and the ability to do our best to reach for it.
3. You must be willing to find what you're looking for. Duh, i know. But read it a few more times, see if something clicks for you. Like it did me.
I think i'll stop. I've gotta leave. And #3 was just something i wanted to write. When i wrote it i wasn't thinking of what the list was for; a good indication that it had gone off the wrong track.
Muchlove,
simon
Written letters that won't be sent. Abandon thoughts within my head. Kind and cruel words not expressed. A glance, a thousand words replaced. You keep your thoughts, i'll keep mine. One shant touch another's mind.
Something like that. There's two sides to everything. The only worth is in the potential validity of each side's argument, and the unreachable truth which lies between.
What i'm trying to get at is this: it's always best to say everything on your mind. Or it's best to keep all personal things to yourself. Or 50/50; sometimes thoughts are best to express, and sometimes it's good to clam up. Or there is no such thing as good and bad outside of our petty minds, and the belief that i have control over my life is false and my head will ache endlessly because of it.
Something like that.
Jenny told me not to tell her about any women i came across while i wasn't with her. I wondered why she wouldn't want to know. Any feelings i had for her wouldn't change or disappear just because i came across a new girl and new feelings. Jenny told me about her getting a boyfriend. It sucked, but i got over it. The future can't be changed by something so trivial as the present. Heh.
That's a nice idea though. Thoughts only exist in the present. They are trivial. If what i'm thinking isn't a negative influence on my life, than it ain't no problem. I guess sometimes, brief moments today and yesterday, i've worried that my thoughts (although not increadably important (or at the very least, not negative) to me) might look weird, or not fit into someone else's thoughts. But what someone else may or may not think definately shouldn't be my concern, even if they've come into contact with thoughts of mine. Bottom line, worry is wasteful. Share your thoughts or dont, Newton, as long as you keep living as though nobody has ever lived before. There are no lessons you should already know. Wide eyed and full. A baby in the sky.
Something like that.
Peace and Love.
simon
Happy holidays, my peeps and peepettes.
These days, ah, these days. A little bit of love, yeah yeah yeah. Perfection is found in the hopes that remain intact. Still smiling, singing sadly, kept arms length away from bliss. The blues sound better than bubble gum. It's the only way it can be.
Friday the 23rd.
I went to a tight little highschool reunion sort of deal at kelley robinson's house. Saw the regular kids from grade 12. I won't name names, for fear of forgetting some. Justin Good, however, deserves particular recognition. I don't see alot of that kid. I figure neither of us would ever call the other. Same reason i never call my dad. Maybe i aughta. It's not that i dont care about him, it's not that we dont get along. It's that i get along quite well without. I dont go out of my way to do anything, really. Maybe i should work on that.
I brought about five and a half grams of mushrooms to the highschool get together scene. My plans involved eating some of them while walking to rob walker's place, bouncing back and forth between there and 3i (browns). Decent enough plan.
I had a great time at the first party. Maybe too good a time, cause i'd planned to leave at 10, and i didn't leave till about 11:30. Really enjoyed mr good. Nothing in common except our compatability.
When i got to robs, alot of the mush was eaten. I had small bits at the first party, but never intended to feel effects while i was there. Ate a bunch more when i hiked home to get my guitar. Rob's felt like a bit of a bust, but i think i was too full of a tired sort of anticipation to appreciate what was around me. Some real good kids, mike mahar, jamie power, kingsley ralling. But i jetted to three eye when there wasn't anyone to direct affection towards. I like having an interest.
Three eye was packed, it was their texas mickey party. I walked around for a while. Found one nice little lady to talk to, but her throat was destroyed, so she couldn't talk. We stood silently at the bottom of the stairwell for a while. Ask facebook, i take what i can get. Katie came and talked to me, and the silent one walked off. I polished my mush and paced around the loud party for a bit, finding a home near the fooseball table near the likes of steve simpson. Codiddy was also there.
I was thinking about leaving, going back to rob's with nick gormley, but i stayed for a little bit. Ended up running into craigfish mcleod and a sweet little asian bird that was making his company. Up until i looked at Tina Bouey i hadn't noticed the mushrooms, but she left me light as a feather. I decided that i was definately feeling something. I told her that i could look at her for like a half hour. I didn't think i was lying.
Team Craig (the only 1-man texas mickey team) and myself went off in search of anyother party he'd heard about. Loud noises were coming out of some other christmas party, so i decided it was a good idea to walk around said party, see if i knew anyone. I didn't, but i was very happy to walk around a strange house, looking at strange people. Mushrooms seek adventure, i was merely their shell.
Team Craig and I sang christmas carols at some house with people on the front step. People ask you to do things when you wear a guitar on your back. It wouldn't have been done without encouragement from team craig.
We get to the party location to find a darkened house. We walk by, go straight to robs. When we get to rob's place some people are splittin'. Mike Mahar tells me to go with them. This man fills me with trust, so i drop my guitar and hop into a cab.
(Just before the cab arrived, this wild car swings around the corner. The front right wheel is completely blown off, and there's damage to the front quarter of the car. Sparks are flying everywhere and we all had a nice laugh. It was a dazzling display.)
Cab picks up simon, jamie, pat pierden and kingsley, and heads to hunter's ale house. When we're out of the cab, king asks me how i'm doing and i get into some nice mushroom clichés about riding the feeling. Feeling mellow due to my lack of involvment with what is happening, but excited about being completely within the grips of fate.
Fugato is at hunters, worth a dance or two. Andrea Gallant, and a lady that i only know as jamie power's lady become parts of our party. Jamie's lady (and very possibly jamie) are on acid, and the two of them remain a source of otherworldly company and just plain entertainment for the duration of the night. I'm lightly introduced to a girl named lindsay. I'll remember her. She was introduced as someone smarter than the average girl.
I am in love with andrea gallant. We were an item in grade 5-6. Even though i didn't talk to her much due to a wall of shyness, all my unexpressed feelings still existed. I was always aware of her. And there's trust. All the trust in the world. It lets me feel like i know her even though i dont see much of her.
I took it personally when she was having trouble with her heels, and asked kingsley to give her a piggy back ride. He turned her down, and she didn't ask me. I asked why a little later and she said something about knowing kingsley really well, that he is a friend.
I thought that was weird, since in my mind i've known anne since we were in grade 1, and appreciated her on and off since grade 5. In my mind we're close. I haven't lived on the island much in the past five years, but i see her each time i'm around. At least a little. But in her mind i dont know her, we're not close. Kingsley is a friend. I couldn't argue. A fair sized reality check for the boy on mushrooms.
Eventually we made our way to a house to play some guitar and smoke some reef. I loved the piss out of a little instrumental dealie i like to call "the riddle". There's alot of people who are better guitarists than i am, two of them were there that night, but pound for pound i dont know if there's many better musicians. Of course that's a matter of taste, and of course i like what i play. I have a bias.
I got pretty stoned and walked home. Arrived at quarter past six. Woken up at 10:30 to pack for a halifax weekend. Slept during some of the car ride. I was void of energy but quite content.
***Interlude***
Go! Get yourself a drink of water. This post is already quite long, and i've got more to talk about. Come back another day if you must. I'm planning on talking about other days, so it almost makes sense.
***Interlude***
Halifax was a delight. Pretty low key, by holiday standards. I spent alot of time reading. Played a couple nice family games. My guitar was/is still in rob walker's apt. I watched the Eagles win a playoff clincher against dallas. Jeff Garcia, he's american, but his ties to the cfl are making me proud.
I got a pretty sweet stack of loot for christmas. In case you haven't heard, i'm going to venezuela. I got a spanish/english dictionary. I got a salmon colored hoodie. (which reminds me, the book i'm reading, The Ground Beneith Her Feet is written by Salman Rushdie) I also got a new journal, my old one was down to single digits in pages remaining. I got two killer books, both non-fiction and somewhat autobiographical. One for Bob Dylan, one for Allen Ginsburg. F' Yeah!
And i got two MEC bags, one big backpack one small daybagish. And a tight little sleeping bag. Color me prepared. Travel clock, canadian ID tags, some sort of passport holder booklet thingy. A killer pair of slippers.
Weekend also included some nice walks. My island aunt brought two dogs with her, so on christmas eve and christmas day there were trips to provincial parks for strolls. And good food. Good food in spades.
Which brings us to today. We drove back to the island this afternoon, arriving at 4ish. I had a bath first thing, to test out my new dead sea bath salts. Very relaxing and enjoyable time. I have a reason to take baths now, and i'm not disappointed.
I got in touch with Aine to find out when to go to Jon Gillis's birthday party. She said nine. I was there.
I borrowed a bottle of wine from my mom for the evening. She didn't seem super keen on it, so i got to thinking during my walk. I decided i wouldn't necessarily drink it. It'd be for emergancy.
When i got there, Brent Thistle (who i was later told has a dick which warrants him comparison to a tri-pod) offered me a rum and egg nog. I happily accepted, and put the wine on the counter, never to pick it up.
I chatted with Aine and Carley for a while before joining the party. Alot of great faces that i hadn't seen in a while. Janette, Janelle and Shannon were the early favorites although i didn't talk to janette too much. Other favorites include boys.
I am in love with jenna cook. That girl just has me. As much as i can be had, anyway. I don't see anything serious in our future but i also dont see these feelings disolving. She's a magnet. A pretty strong one. Only girl i kissed without obvious invitation. Obvious invitation became replacable by personal intoxication, but that's beside the point. The point has either already been made, or was recently lost on me.
Announced love twice in one blog post. Only the second one intended from the onset. It's a condition that i'm very interested in. I think i could truthfully use the word to describe three other relationships, but there's no need to get into that now. I think it's important that since the girls are all very different, the feelings are all very different. But the word means something to me. I'm glad i feel solid enough to say it. Or at least type it (for shame!) The feelings are mine, and i trust them, it's grooovey. It doesn't need to be recipricated.
Actually, if the word did come back to me, i'd be terrified. I think love to most people indicates a sort of belonging. Yikes. This ride is only built for one. It's just that the scenery is fantastic.
I realize that in my last post i said i loved a girl when i talked to her for five or ten minutes outside the arts guild. But that's a little different. Loved vs. In love. Past tense vs present. Not a minor detail.
I have got to get to sleep. This is madness. I've got a lunch date in 7 hours.
Peace-o.
Stephanie Stephanie Stephanie Stephanie Stephanie Stephanie Stephanie Stephanie. Saying the name during the drive home helped me remember her face.
I think my problem, if i have a problem (which i dont), is that i'm looking for love. I see alot of people that are very happy to be with other people. Couples and non-couples alike. It looks great to hit on people. Looks great to be hit on. Everyone is having a great time.
This may come as a great shock to anyone who doesn't know me, but i am a lonely drink of water. Maybe i'm lonely cause i'm shy, that's the sort of thing i've told myself before. It's easy (and admittedly logical) to think that a minor emotion (lonely;sad) is caused by poor actions. Ipso Facto: I'm lonely cause i'm shy. I'm lonely cause my standards are too high. I'm lonely cause i have low self esteem. I'm lonely cause i won't admit i'm gay, etc.
Trying to find a negative cause for my loneliness hasn't solved anything. If i didn't have my head on straight it might've even come to cause some emotional termoil. Sometimes i do get upset at myself for not talking to people. Battles faught inside my head. 'Oooh, someone else talking to her now, you missed your chance, you missed your window. Too bad you're so shy, with your low self esteem, or you'd be talking to her now. You'd be happy.' It's easy for me to find fault in myself, cause i believe the world is perfect. Looking at the matter at hand, the only problem is thinking that it's wrong to be lonely.
I'm lonely because i'm looking for love. I'll take love in the form of friendship. I'll take love in the form of a passing acquantance. But it's gotta be real love. If i'm not one hundred percent interested, then i'm wasting my time. I'm not here for cheap thrills at the price of my integrety. I'll take solitude. I'll take sadness. Deep breaths coupled with an unusual longing for tears (i love crying. It's like a reward for pure emotion).
It's not bad. It's really not. I believe i've got my health. And with health comes time. I've got time. I like looking.
I'm cold when i sleep though. I dont like that. I'd love to be kept warm. And I'm not sure if "ipso facto" is something that makes sense to people who aren't me. And i'm pretty sure i'm not gay. When i'm high my ideas can run off with that one, but once some sort of image solidifies i either become grossed out, or at the very least not interested. And i'm pretty damn sure i dont have low self esteem. I compare myself to buddha, jesus, einstein, oburst, beethoven, and i'm still pretty sure that i'm doing a good job on this life.
I dont think fault exists outside of myself. And i think that the passage of time is all the opportunity i need to fix myself. It's not a bad way to go.
Stephanie was outside the Guild tonight, after the show let out. I talked to her for about 30 seconds, and she went back inside. Dark hair, light eyes. I loved her.
Peace.
simon
What's the deal with emotions?
I feel pretty great right now. If you asked me why, i'd tell you that it's cause i was jamming on some unwritten songs for the past few hours. I've got some lyrics down to a sweeeeeeeeet anti-war song called "battle on". I might tell you that i haven't eaten today, and i've polished my second mug of ginger tea, leaving me refreshed and aware.
But while these appear to be reasons to be happy, i dont think it's that simple. The last two days i haven't been all that happy. Could be the shortage of ginger tea. Could be the shortage of lyrical progress (although i did play the music and sing songs). Could be the woman. No woman no cry, i've heard. And while all i've seen of her is the car in my driveway, she's sure not gone from thoughts.
But the reasons for happiness and sadness are always empty. They're assumptions. And i'd guess they're all easily proven false. Just act some way everyday. You wont feel the same everyday. More and more, i'm thinking that mood determines our actions, and not the other way around. Where does this mood come from? Are the swings unhealthy? I'm not about to aim for a lack of emotion.
Peace and Love.
simon.
There's eggshells in my fried rice. I used the red chopsticks.
Sometimes i dont speak. It's not intentional. I prefer me when i'm speaking. I get annoyed at my lack of participation in what's around me. But i can't help it. I'm looking around for a place to fit, but i dont see me in anything.
So i listen. Often just to thoughts twisting and sorting themselves. Maybe they get more linear as the quietness flows between. Maybe they get more jumbled as i retire any attempts to express them.
Or i listen to other people. I'm aware of the effortlessness of their speaking, and i wonder why i'm mute. It makes me sad and frustrated. I can't do anything else. Sometimes i laugh at what people say. The noise of my laughter is a sound i'm intensly aware of. Half of me tries to shut if off immediately. Half of me is so glad that i'm suddenly audible, suddenly a participant, that it tries to sustain my voice. This results in a muffled and weak hum that quickly disapears into nothing. Guilt immediately punishes me for trying to exist when i had nothing to say. Self pity wonders why guilt has such a hold on me.
Keep silent, keep listening. Pray for a distraction from myself.
Strum a chord, play some fooseball. Things that i know how to do. My involvement in the physical world is all the distraction i need. I switch from referee to participant. It's alot better. I've gotta wonder if this judge is doing me any good.
Fate vs. Intent.
I dont consider fate as what is meant to be. 'Meant to be' supposes that the end results are what drives the means. And the future does not have it's hands on the present.
When i think of fate, i like to use the word "natural". I think fate describes what happens when life is left outside of personal control. Fate/God/Tao is what takes over my body when i'm at my best. My fingers are strong and accurate. My wits are quick. And i'm seperate from my actions to the point where i can enjoy them like a third party would. Except i completely understand the context of my work. I enjoy my natural reactionary self a great deal. And i hate trying to do when i don't know what it is to be done. Cause then i'm running on the spot. Masterbating without the pleasure bursts.
Suppose this string of events i call my life is constantly within the spectrum of fate or intent. There's alot of grey. Sometimes actions feel so natural, so easy and justifiable, and they look so good in the context of history that it's almost as though they must have been. Intent can coincide with fate.
Also, a lack of actions with the effort of removing personal control from life can just as easily remove yourself from a course of action that fate was intending to bring you to. Same thing in other words: you're avoiding responsibility for your life by a concious lack of decision making. You believe that non-action must necessarily put you in the hands of what is not you (call it Fate/God/Tao). But you run the risk of seperating yourself from life itself.
Actions are also not without risk. Too busy in speech or in motion to see or feel what else could've been said/done. Sometimes patience and silence are the best tools we have to construct correct words and actions. But it doesn't work forever. It can't. If you're silent for your whole life than you'll never say anything. Duh.
Can i be quiet until i'm confident i know what needs to be said? Will that moment ever come?
I've got a few unfinished songs. Sometimes i think i should get off my ass and work on them. Sometimes i remind myself that the songs i've had in the past have come about gradually, and that i'm still working on everything i have, in a way. I'm hoping that a lack of direct action wont mean for a lack of results. I'm hoping that fate will step in, and force me to put some words down.
I want the world to use me. I feel very capable. But my personal goals and ideas for myself can't compare to what the world might want me for. Besides, the world made me. It deserves the products of my joyous efforts. I'll be satisfied knowing that i was used. I'm too good to be idle. I'm too good for personal use. Wish me luck.
I just gave a travel agent the thumbs up on purchising me a ticket to venezuela. I leave halifax on the 16th of january. I return to halifax on the 10th of april.
So that's almost three months of spanish, hot weather and uncertain adventures. Lets hope i have a passport by mid jan, eh?
woo.