Wednesday, July 28, 2004
i stare too heavily into and out and i begin to see traces of my pupils form and burn into the light source infront of me
im so still i can hear you in the other room with the door locked- head turned, tv on and her breath is cold from here
if i sit on the floor can i see how i really live- i can see what i have hidden under the bed (i can see my house from here)
i could go for a walk and tire it off
i could escape for a while and not think about anything
i could pretend i want to eat something in the fridge but i have lost that when i took up this bad habbit of leaving when you brought home those extra shoes.
everyone escapes me somehow, should they move away, get serious, fall-fast or grow sour. escape or replace, no amount of photo's i print out will hold to you. no amount of time wasted on making up excuses will dull the blade that I have hidden deep within me. i am a fool to just stand by and watch the years tumble by me through my hands and out my eyes buring bright neon signs of green retna flowering in through retnas black and terrible as i gasp for air on the way to the bottem of the ocean.
if i lie on the floor and stare back with my eyes i can see them open and close in the light- controll how they open and close like gills and think to myself its just another 10 minutes before i go to smoke.

Monday, July 19, 2004
move ahead and advance to the next seat in question take your stance next to a phone that never rings take up your arms when the doors shut behind you. take a hint- dont get too close to that or else you'll scold yourself later when your lying in bed... spoken by an old Prod watching her reflection in his polarized sun glasses. he is smooth and cold, shaves in the sink with bar soap and cleans the razor in his hands tending to the blade to last him a lifetime. you need a woman in your life much like you need a razor- treat one good and they will stay sharp and cut-fast when called apon.
"hey- you looking good today, baby"
the call shoots off my shoulder and i cut fast into an opening in the fence (funny- that hole was never there before- i wonder what will happen if i run thru it) i'm gone and adapt a face of a sheep-killing dog as i advance up the rock-face.

Wednesday, July 14, 2004
what am i supost to do when i have decided or made up my mind? i don't think im supost to like any of my choices im forced into doing, so i think thats why I keep putting it off, putting it off, putting it off untill i have no choice left.
i have to clean my house, i have to get my sewing done, i have to go get food but i keep puting it off. i wonder if there is more outside my door when i come home from work besides working at my desk each and every night but i cant leave with dishes in the sink. Am i really better now then when i was? Better working 1-9, working alone within a team, being shot down because i am who i am? i stroll in the main lobby with my hat pulled down past my face and the crowd stirs cooly, transister radio held behind her back- she's packing heat in her hoalster, packing heat behind her eyes,packing cool in her straight blank face so cold it would burn your heart dry. I could crush your brain in the palm of my hand if i didnt think for a moment that your terribleness will be the end of you. A good rustler knows how to do in a character like you, my dear- your wickedness will sour your own milk, just dont take me down with you or else i'll start shooting.

Monday, July 12, 2004

Don't worry- I'm keeping this one... this time.

Sunday, July 11, 2004
look out look out
take a moment to check your self, are you sure you want to do that again? i cut my thumb on a screwdriver and grit my teeth when you tell me about your life- so hard to walk down the halls of your school with money that isnt yours- go spend it all on handbags and payless shoes. do your hair up, ride in your man's car, fix your scowl in the mirror hair blowing in the wind.

i took a week off once and spent it on the streets spending the $50 i had in my pocket when the snow was melting. i played an irate girl who would ride the TTC looking into the souls of those who rode by and passed the empty seat next to me. it was then i would look into each person and try to figure out why they were riding the rocket and where they were going to. I was going noplace- just back and forth along the rails wasting my time- waiting for my money to run out with my patiance.

Tuesday, July 06, 2004
i had a dream about you 2 nights ago- you were in the classroom and i was late running up the stairs unknowing that you were there. i get in and everyone's in pairs and none of my friends are looking my way. teacher moves me through the croud and there you are sitting with your head down gaising out the window lost in some kind of silly tourmoil you had when you were younger. You look up and see me. Flash and whirlwind and I dont know you but it is you and the noisy classroom is miles away.
i can hear it humming at that point as silly and childlike as i was back then,
"i wanna take you home
i wanna give you children
i could be your girlfriend
oh yeah yeah yeah"
(side note- i dont or cant remeber if music actauly plays in my dreams or if i'm remebering a feeling of that song. its hard to tell but i know usally when i dream i have whispers of some kind of music track haunting in the background... i dont really want to give you children- Jarvis might, but i bet he's much like me and just wants to do dirty things)

snap back to the story at hand, enough explanations

Teacher comes up behind me and puts a cold hand on my shoulder "come with me, missy" and the dry wooden classroom is gone and you melt away and all thoughts i had of you are gone as a photo is shoved in my face. I'm thrown out and deserted.
the classroom disapears and i'm running down Queen street 5 blocks up from Spadina- possibly raining or possibly just annoyingly moist- i'm running with amb and were out running cars and trains. he turns to me and shows me the photo the teacher had... its me in a croud and i'm acting cracked up sorry, kid- this schools no good for junkies
how could you sell me out? how could you tell everyone- my boss, my parents, my teachers!
its writen on my face and i keep running hoping i'll find you on your way home.

i wake up and i cant hear the alarm. i turn my head slowly to the left and then i can hear it. lost hearing in one ear temperaily. cant move my arms- they flung up over my head and the blood ran out. i heave my shoulders and flop them down next to me lying on my side breathing and feeling the warm sensation of blood flowing back into them. they look like lumps of white soap floating in a bathtub ocean. i lie like that for an hour feeling the blood move in my body.

Saturday, July 03, 2004
I saw 9/11 last night and the crowd was clapping and yelling at the end. I remeber a conversation we had at work that night about movies and why do we cry durring them- possibly the movie is so well in its character development that you start to feel a bit of compassion for those on screen and emotion gets the better of you. I was siting front and center, my neck killing me because i was in burlington's crummy theater and choaking back emtotion. reminded me that somehow despite the crude fashions and annoying music and fear that we are all connected.
there was a preview for a metalica movie that made me vomit. THE LIFE AND CRIMES OF THE BIGGEST HEAVY ROCK BAND IN THE WORLD!!! Ohhhhh so hard when your an angry rock star, your children wont be killing other chilren for nothing and lies so shut the fuck up. so yeah, lets make a movie about how rough it is to be in the limelight- all the booze, all the sex, all the drugs and stress of being cool...
they should make a movie staring me... riding a train and hearing the electric pulses through the line skipping and darting around lighting pusle and hell- no one noticing, standing by the door watching the world eat and crumble flashing pusle after pulse.. "why dont you shut up" look up and there is nothing there.