| the palms of my hands are burning with the itch of a thousand needles |
[04 Sep 2004|05:36pm] |
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belle and sebastian - storytelling |
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i've taken to long walks on dim and deserted streets well past the bedtimes of dreamers. i keep small speakers in my ears to block the subtle sounds that sometimes scare you. dark strangers tend to calm me and i've noticed that i remember the primary rules, of green meaning go and look both ways, well after it would have mattered.
have you ever loved someone so much that it literally hurt to be close to them, because being close, in the end, means saying goodbye. and goodbye means that little pieces of yourself, that you know you'll never get back, go to. but you repeat the cycle as many times as you can because it's in the saying hello that you know you're alive.
i spent last night in true elementary style with my back to a playground misreading the stars with influence and good company. in a break in the comfortable silence i was told "you, are my most beautiful mistake". i didn't ask questions because it only took me about thirty seconds of contemplating my own beautiful mistakes, to realize just how beautiful it was.
it is only in these honest moments that my heart beats to another rhythm.
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| we'll expire the days like a secret handshake |
[30 Aug 2004|05:20pm] |
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portishead - all mine |
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i had a dream last night so seemingly real that waking from i swore i could still feel your breath heavy on the back of my neck, warmed skin from finger traces and the linger of delicate soft whispers. a speechless sigh woke tired and hesitant eyes.
if you were close, i wouldn't know what to say. i'd take you someplace quiet and draw you a picture. the modest nevada street lights would speak my mind softly, revealing diluted fleshy lines misplaced from where they lie. to be close; to have thoughts, to speak them with fingertips, dismantling all the distance in the world and renaming it at the pleasure of no one, for the sake of nothing.
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| most of what happens is never intended |
[28 Aug 2004|12:36am] |
it's funny how drastically a single phone call lasting less than two minutes can up and change your life so significantly. i went from having a nearly blank proverbial dance card to not being able to keep time to the steps.
i've been thrown for a bit of a loop and as a result found myself in small town nevada of all places this morning, in that early still dark of the morning where you find yourself wondering why anyone sane would be up at such a time for anything not strictly pleasurable. of course it isn't long before you remember you are not sane.
over twelve hours of shooting after such an extended holiday--it would be a gross understatement to say my heart wasn't in it. i couldn't get it out of my head that there was somewhere else that i'd rather be. i'm not used to that kind of distraction...lucky it's my job to fake it.
my thoughts are so elsewhere that i found myself standing in place on an empty street thinking about how patient it was and how for all i knew it was on pause. i keep thinking about the subtle sound of someone somewhere falling in love. i wouldn't call myself a romantic by any means but i can't help but find that thought really beautiful.
no one will understand this i'm sure but carolyn parrish makes me proud to be canadian.
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| this beta promenade just might be a lazy amble puzzle |
[23 Aug 2004|04:34pm] |
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i got in at exactly 3:33 and it was fitting. i'm having the loveliest of lovely days, like mento commercial moment after moment. i have no real explanation for it but i couldn't stop smiling today. one of those days you do everything without thinking because your head is in the clouds. you're overly generous because you have no reason not to be. you make strangers smile because you can't stop doing it yourself. you buy a sandwich twice the size you need and give the other half to the next homeless person you see. you skip a bit when no one is looking. you yell thank you so sincerely to the bus driver at your stop that he is shaken out of his routine to the point of staying stopped for longer than necessary. you make phone calls just to say "hey, i'm thinking about you". you buy yourself flowers but then give them away just before you get to your door. and when you do get there, after tossing the keys as high as you can get them to go you have to lean against it a minute le sigh before you tear up the stairs like a mad escapee.
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| eternal mystery and insatiable desire |
[21 Aug 2004|04:06pm] |
i've busied myself in the detailed preparation of my overdue vacation coming to an end. i haven't had this much time off work in as long as i can remember and while there were moments it was something more like tedious, i've become a little adjusted to the graceful effortlessness of the paper, coffee, live life.
i haven't updated in a while and i meant to mention it last week but i spent the year anniversary of the big blackout (that knocked out what at the time seemed like half the world) in kensington market. it was cute and part of the city's attempt to conserve energy not just for the day but more of a conscious awareness of consumption thing. it was probably more of a good idea in theory than anything, but it's the sort of idea that gets you thinking. it's also my favourite part of town and one that i don't exactly need an excuse to wander into.
i was on the bus the other day and saw a girl i briefly attended school with years and years ago. it's strange, that reaction, when time has played it's tricks and when words travel faster than light sometimes and as a result you know each others secrets before speaking. and in the end it's what keeps you from speaking, just a look in the eye confirms rumour or truth. it had me looking at people all day, and since really, in a different light. instead of being oblivious i've found myself wondering about the history of strangers. wondering if they have a real reason to not be smiling, or why they just can't seem to stop. it seems like sometimes you just forget that even though they are just nameless faces passing you by day after day, that to someone somewhere they are so much more.
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[07 Aug 2004|03:30pm] |
i'm a lady in latency. the breaks don't come frequently but when they do i realize how easily i tire of the humdrum of what i call artificial life. so i spend my hours watching stage theatre about hypothetical history in plays like '37, the grassroots rebellion of 1837. even in all its melodrama it still made me want to be a revolutionary.
i'm to leave for germany by the end of the month to start filming don't come knockin' and i'm terribly excited about getting back to and out of habits with candy and comforters. this will be the first film i've done outside of canada in some time and there has just always been something about germany that i love. i've only been there once before but i remember the feeling distinctly.
i've made it clear that i can't make it until august the 30th because i've been waiting for far too long to visit new york for the anti-bush demonstration. i haven't been to the city outside of business in a while and i'm thinking of heading there a little sooner and indulging in some pleasure.
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| sensing the hair roll over your brow like it has a million times before |
[03 Aug 2004|07:37pm] |
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today i was reminded of building sand castles and that second the sun hits your face just right, the kind that leaves someone else a little breathless. i took inventory and i think i realized the moment that it all changed. i'm always a little torn to memories because even the happiest ones are sad sometimes. they were just that beautiful. i was counting the stars in between the clouds last night and wondering, maybe hoping, that i was one of those sometimes sad ones. then i searched for late night breakfast and remembered how to smile.
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| break the silence with that cigarette-coarse laugh |
[25 Jul 2004|04:53pm] |
hipbones that curve outward
in this display of grace.
i've been recluse; recalculating the moments. i've been going through the motions, the rituals in patterns. i've been concentrating on my breathing and i don't do pilates so that is not what i mean.
fashionable blank stares
accompany stylized gestures.
perception had comes in happy and sad, i'm not trying to rhyme but i'm just looking for the right colours to paint it with. i'm looking a little beyond black and white making shades of gray and i'm compromising with yellows.
barbed wire is out
novelty string lights are in.
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| overstayed and overstated |
[20 Jul 2004|12:08pm] |
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defeated, i'm back in toronto, where sleep and most of anything else is evading me. i'm not a fool, i knew quite well how this would end, down to the timing, but i thought for some reason it would be worth it. it was and it wasn't.
and just as rare
our unicorns had matching hair.
it's irrelevant now, and this is the last i'll say of it.
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| a dream release that history needs to escape |
[18 Jul 2004|08:26pm] |
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jack johnson - cocoon |
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there is such a vast difference between toronto and los angeles (canada and the us) that can't even be defined by the use of the word us as an abbreviation. i always feel a bit paranoid walking these streets because unlike home where no one cares who you are or who you might become, where you're going or where you just came from, here everyone is trying so hard to be someone, to be anyone, that it feels like you're a part of a game, some bad reality television show. it's feign. i enjoy my ability to live a fairly normal life, with few exceptions. it's not really fear, i've never liked los angeles much; i have a devout affection for toronto that will always bring me back there.
as an aside, (but not really because something about being here triggered it) (and you may think i'm ridiculous but) a global campaign fighting for an international arms trade treaty, that will ideally control the arms trade and stop gun running, has been launched and if you support arms control you can click here and do just that.
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| you frighten my conscience |
[16 Jul 2004|01:38am] |
when i think about love
(a lions den)
i see beautiful churches
(i want to destroy them)
and nursery rhymes
(little red ridding hood never tasted so good)
an old towering birch
(dead things in autumn)
and i'm ready to climb
(broken bones at the bottom)
i'm headed to la because there is a clearly incredibly insane boy there that wants to caffeinate me and read me bad literature--for some reason i just can't say no to that, to him.
he will come around though, come to his senses, and when he does, scott, there is a couch of yours with my name written all over and under it.
and to anyone else in la, lock up your ducks. and don't say i didn't warn you.
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| i'm arguing with my socks |
[15 Jul 2004|04:27pm] |
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dave marcotte - where do all the squirrels go when they die |
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gah i had a bad day. i want to whine and moan about it but it's probably pretty trite and most of you barely know where canada is let alone give a shit about ontario's public health care system. so, i'll just say that today was the first time in a really long time that retrieving the paper wasn't the very first thing either on my mind, or that i did. come to think of it i also haven't followed my normal prebed obsessive-compulsions either. that might be because i haven't slept much or it might be something else entirely. or perhaps they're not mutually exclusive. good god someone please hit me i'm rambling and you had better revoke my posting privileges too before the day i give you a detailed description of my daily shit.
i need something quicker than aiming darts.
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| hard pressed to drown soft temptations |
[14 Jul 2004|03:45pm] |
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music |
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david gray - please forgive me |
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i was up too late last night listening to the storm that came out of nowhere but knocked trees into houses. i wanted to tackle it but it seemed too powerful for me so i watched it, jealously, from my window, thinking about all of the people brave enough to be seeking cover in alleyways and phonebooths instead or the two that were even braver, tango dancing without clothes on normally trafficked streets. i was up too late last night because i knew i wouldn't be able to sleep, so i didn't even try.
i've spent the last hour or so lazily contemplating an orange.
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| i deal expensive fabrics |
[13 Jul 2004|06:46pm] |
i had on a new york sized grin on the inside
because i knew it was frowning on the way down,
like the jealous little chair that it was.
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| fictional characters come in flat and round |
[13 Jul 2004|01:32am] |
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music |
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gary jules - mad world |
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i had just noticed that my room had filled with a white noise that i didn't recognize, so i went to the window to realize it's just the humming of the building to my right, it's just louder and more distinct tonight. i have to part my curtain to see, but by curtain i mean sheet because i'm too lazy for curtains, i just like the light out. in the building across the way up probably a good twelve floors a man parted his curtain in unison with me. i don't know that he saw me, but i wondered if he was noticing the hum audibly getting more distinct too, if it was keeping him up as well or if he was also telling himself that the static was the real reason for inability to sleep and not that looking out the window was really his way of saying that he wished you were there and then he might, that he wished he could even let you know that he wasn't thinking that.
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| why does no one offer me roles for character voices of hit disney films |
[09 Jul 2004|08:47pm] |
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music |
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koop - once bitten |
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i wake up before six am, every day, not by choice, but out of habit. i run (well, walk with a skip to my step) down the stairs and if i'm lucky pick up the paper. i read the national post if you're curious, in it's entirety. i read the comics but never laugh, enjoy it's honesty and get high from layton blaming the prime minister for causing homelessness. if i'm lucky, i walk with the paper down the street (in the same sweat pants and t-shirt) and grab a coffee on the corner. i never have to speak to anyone because it's been so consistent that all i have to do is nod, agreeing, when asked if i want my regular. i walk with precision the block back and sit all curled up, and when i'm done and all i have left are coffee grains and print stained fingers, i go back to bed with the world's woes on my mind, and sleep like a baby.
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| refining the swale for the sake of ordinary life |
[08 Jul 2004|02:17pm] |
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music |
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dave marcotte - crawl back |
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it's getting on into to middle of july and this kind of weather, so consistently, is menacing. cold gray days in sequence with a bit of humidity now and then to remind you that the world isn't ending quite yet. it's strange, i just took my dog for a long walk along lakeshore, and about twenty minutes in, I thought "wow, i'm bored". only recently have i found boredom in times of motion and i'm wondering if that should worry me. i kept thinking about tripping the people on rollerblades that were passing me by, just for something. i didn't have to because one did so on his own. he scurried off, presumably embarrassed, but i wish he had of taken a second to glimpse back, to see that he had put a smile on my face.
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| fahrenheit what |
[07 Jul 2004|07:15pm] |
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music |
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tom waits - innocent when you dream |
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i've been putting it off, i honestly have. i try to avoid line-ups not because i don't have the patience for them but because listening to the people in them remind me how ignorant people are. but if i were really being honest i'd say i was in that line-up the first night but left for that exact reason. i've always preferred matinees anyway, because the people that go to them are different. they aren't afraid of going alone and they are always the ones that i invent life stories for in my distraction. so i went today, on a rather wish-washy weather of a day, in the middle of the afternoon and all i have to say is that michael moore you have disappointed me yet again. you could have done so much more with that.
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