I had a dream

I had a dream
That I was your neighbor
About to give birth
And then everything
Was really hurt
And I was so lonely
I didn't see It's like
Living in a movie
Twisting the plot
My friends and family
The little things I've got, I've got
When my thoughts drift to you

I love the morning
I like to listen
To 4am birdies
Begging to feed
Now there's something here before me
A figure, I think
Isn't there a warning
Or something to drink
My god, my god
When my thoughts drift to you

These mended bones
The storms approach
Ever so slowly
Out on the sea
There's an animal below me
Lack of control

Others came before me
Others to come, to come
When my thoughts drift to you

http://www.amityvillemurders.com/images/seventhanalysis.jpg

because its more of a serious matter, I still don’t talk seriously, but seriously, niehma has her serious blog, I don’t intend to be that serious, but I still want to be serious. I love the word serious, its sooo serious. Hahahhahahahahahahaha I bet no one in the world is going to read this

oh how he choked on those last wordss baha

cats outta the cradle

-Anonymous

I guess it is, I must return it to the cradle
-Pol

I love Paul

Better watch your soul it'll leave you like a hundred bucks

My friend said, “stick to your guns”

But instead I just got stuck

And I'm walking backwards lookin' forward to getting done

Oh but that ain't enough, no you want me to run

Oh that ain't enough no, you want me to run

Combat Baby.

Last night was really crazy,

we went to this girl Lauren's house after hanging out at Jessies,

and after a while, at like ten something, her landlady and the cops came and kicked everyone out, so we all walked to this place called the reservoir,

where a fire was made, and we all partied for a while.

It was so awesome,
and I talked about kinetics and theology.
Started off sort of pretty... went downhill from there..

Yesterday was hectic, but I've had a really good day so far.
I morning Starbuck'sd it with Claire, heard many a interesting thing,
and then ended up chatting with Novix for an hour.
I'm going to miss him.
Now I'm off to White Rock,
where many an adventure await >:)
don't wait up.

note to self:
Local Natives
Tallest Man on Earth
More Yeasayer
Johnny Flynn
Fm Stith
Chris Garneau
More Eddy sharpe
Rogue Wave
Fanfarlo
J tILLMAN

I wrote this a few months ago.
If you read it I hope it presents itself to you properly.
good luck





We will be one.



His first words: static.
He held out his hands and wove a smoke,
Which I stumbled in;
Stumble in. My saving grace, un-ordinary.
He sent out electricity from his blue,
from his gray,
Eyes,
That contained a vulnerability; a secret.
I wanted to hide,
Fall on my knee’s,
And in my clammy hands,
Clutch the cross to my breast-
I would follow it above all else,
To prove my faith adamantine.
Yes his in-difference caused the smog to clear,
And my fingers, released; slightly.
Still I stayed vigilant,
And whispered silent prayers,
As I watched him speak.
His face would ignite,
With a muted passion,
Which he could
Barely,
Contain.
I held out my palms to
Catch,
His discarded sparks,
And let them tattoo my skin.
The silver flecks would dig into the lines
Of my skin, parasitic,
And hide, dormant,
Yet omnipresent;
I coveted them as
Infinitesimal reminders,
That the electricity with which he flared, Was not for me,
He lived for something else which I did not understand,
But it weathered him,
And I saw him soak in silence.
 I wanted him to soak in me.

My skin was singed,
Hairs reaching out like arms,
In a tribute of zealous reverence.
My body was ravaged,
By a persistent radiation,
A cancerous chemotherapy constantly
Sending energy through my veins,
Which hung as broken
Telephone wires:
Frayed, alighting,
E-lighting,
Un-lighting,
Un-extinguishable-
An archaic flame.
And his un-spoken conviction,
Un-spoken condition,


Left white dots in front of my eyes.
My seeing was ever-impaired,
And eventually it would succumb
To a platonic whiteness;
Albeit, my fault, for staring
Directly into the sun.
He shone and crackled,
An electronic rice-krispie,
Alighting in my mouth.
His eyes tasted like gold,
Weighing heavy and bitter on my tongue
Which was accustomed to cheap silver.
His words tasted like solidified enlightenment
And I would lie, crippled,
Savouring the ethereal knowledge with which
He electrocuted me epileptically.

His body tasted like the smoke he expelled,
and he left me coughing.
He was conceived of curiosity
And every bite of him,
Left me starving.
The hunger tore at me,
An empty book,
And I was only satisfied after I tore out the pages.
I could never tear out the pages.
Within the vast chasm of white,
There was a Chaos which gave birth
To more than it destroyed.

It destroyed me;
It destroyed him.
Yet he revived me.

He wheeled me from the dusty corner
And plugged me in,
Wielding his fingers and words as tools
And he soothed me, healed me,
As I would one day heal him.

His face became a forlorn dirt road,
Less-traveled;
My face became a forlorn traveller,
And we met.
The un-even surface and sharp rocks
Did not deter me,
And I never deviated from the path
Which I walked continuously.
Because although my feet bled,
The blood found its way into the cracks
And the dirt, which found its way into the cracks
In my feet and we became bound together
By a dusty darkness.
And we would watch the rusty sunset
And pick at the corroding metal of the sky,
Laughing when stars would fall at our feet,
And we would gather them and pick them apart,
Holding the fading silver in our palms.
It would blend with my scars until the pain and bliss
Became un-distinguishable.
And my beautiful paradox melted.

Some nights we would stand underneath the sky
And watch each other in the moonlight, silently.
He called me an iridescent angel,
But I couldn’t speak.
My tongue was wrapped in a beam of light
Which fluctuated around my body and through the grass
Into the reeds which swayed into the wind into his eyes
And at that moment I knew I held the answer.
Lucifer’s angel,
I wanted to capture him forever and live
Alone with him in the moonlight as my Adam.
We would bask in the lights of Eden
And wade in the depths of hell
And still watch each other, silently,
As he laughed and captured fireflies in his hands.
He would release them innocently,
Letting their naivety shower on him like our broken stars,
And I would kiss him in the white light,
My mouth full of wonder.
My life full of wonder,
I lost myself in him,
And never emerged for air;
Semi-aquatic, we would swim together,
And lay intertwined in a bed of coral,
In a bed of seaweed;
Ecstatic, we swam endlessly,
Our bodies tireless, and we melded
In and out of a shared existence where our
Realities were delusions.
And I loved him.
Torn apart by time, or kin,
I was a lonely candle and my wax hardened,
Until my wick suffocated,
And grew stiff.
My figure took on an anguished state,
And my bones filled with cement,


Until he returned,
and until his fingernails chipped away the solid liquid,
and his smile warmed me,
and my muscles filled with liquid euphoria,
and I moved again.
And he loved me.

His lips were fluid, and like a wind
He flew through me,
Catching on an occasional branch,
Until I released him and watched him soar away.
But every night he would come back to me,
And I would lie,
Waiting,
And knowing,
And praying.
Agnostic, I asked for nothing but him,
but I would weep into my rosary beads asking for more.
As I loved away his sadness,
And stroked away his weakness,
And hoped away his illness;
But hope was no medicine,
And the darkness tore through his body,
Ebbing our unity.
I would kiss him in the white light,
And I would pour it into him from my aching lips.
But my light was never enough,
And soon we ebbed together.
My light never faded, and I watched him ascend through life,
Flickering, the electricity with which he used to shock me
Now weak.
Particles of dust would settle on him


And he would stay still one second too long.
One second was too much.
One second was everything.

His force significantly lessened,
He plugged himself into me and I barely lit,
My bulb near-empty.
But he would still stand in the moonlight.
I washed his bodies with my tears,
And he became re-born,
His weary, hairless, body,
Writhing under my steady hand-
My steady stream.
I still found him beautiful,
But he broke anything reflective,
And would sit, naked,
Drowning in images of a strength
He no longer possessed.
Sometimes he would still stand in the moonlight,
And call me his evangelical saviour,
And I wouldn’t speak.
Because my light didn’t extend to him
And I saw the darkness waiting patiently,


Fingers twitching, hungering for the one I loved,
As I once hungered for him.
Still hungered for him.
Always hunger for him.

But like our broken stars,
He was picked apart,
And I held him in my palm,
Star-dust,
Spreading him in the wind which he once flew through;
Pressing him to my lips which he once moved through;
Easing them through the life which he once ascended through.
And now I stand naked in the moonlight,
Letting the moon and the reeds and the wind rush through me
Like he once did.
I stand on our dirt road and I cut my body on the un-even surface,
I roll in the pain,
And I bleed to bring us together again.
I tear at my skin,
Dig craters into my aching vessel.
And when my blood is released I feel released and he is released.
And when we are together we stand in silence in the moonlight.
And I spread the dust into the cracks of my skin.
We become whole again.
He calls me salvation,
And I never respond.
But I wear him on my skin:
Discarded sparks, broken stars; bloody scars.
And I wear him in my veins,
The broken telephone wires.
And I taste him in my mouth,
A rich gold.
And I know him in my mind,
A transcendent being.


And one day we will stand at the bank of the river
And let the grass tickle our bare ankles as we
Walk together under the moonlight;
We will walk into the
Transparency until we are submerged.
And then we will be one.

Something interesting about myself that the zero people reading this might want to know:

I literally have no idea how to spell my middle name and therefore spell it differently every time I have to use it.

Lol?

Who is she?

Does she know why the world turns,

or whose wrinkled fingers tenderly spin it,

on its fragile axis?

Does she ever wonder if she is exclusive,

in her thoughts and feelings,

in this whole world?

Does she understand, anything?

Who is she?

Does she ever walk in vulernability,

or stand in complete solidity,

or forgive shortcomings?

Who is she?

I sure as hell don't know.

Downtown Vancouver,

concrete like stains

clinging to the parched

and flaky skin

of the city.

People in corners

bags patched like quilts

holding the lungs

and the cuticles

together.

Those decadent streelights

crooked candleabras

the homeless aristocrats

offer their palms

up to the sky

as a sign of

reverence.

Downtown Vancouver

subways and ballrooms

the dirt on the jewels

a film of dust

hovering over

this

city.

Lover    of    things,

won't you agree

how the winter could bring

the darkest spring?

It's like marrow without bone.

To live in a house with no home.

Where the son is the darkest seed.

He crawls with the curs in the weeds.

Ar

ar

art

art,

Art.

Unsentimental,

Driving around,

Sure of myself,

Sure of it now,

You stand this close to me,

Like the future was suppose to be,

In the eyes of the Grocery,
In the block uptown,

I remember,

Remember well,

But if I'd forgotten,

Could you tell.

There are many reasons that I am looking forward to going to Europe:
the beautiful culture
the weather
the atmosphere
the seclusion and inspiration of where we're staying
but right now the main reason I can think of
is that I really want to escape from some people.
It feels like certain people weigh on me, my being,
and slowly are changing who I am.
I feel so numb all the time.
I want to go back.

she’s not perfect she’s my hero

Smashing the piano

Spitting in the front row

Chronic confrontation

Psychic conversation

Radical compassion

Louder than the action

All of us

Shes not perfect she's a victim

of her occupation

social instillation

secret intervention

charge her with posession

I just wanna watch em

Make and break or beat them

and the stars.

Burnt out stars they shine so bright.

METRIC

June 12th, Malkin Bowl

(my front row photos)

We know your house so very well

and we will wake you once we've walked up

all       your      stairs.

(not my pic)

I miss ____ already.
It's like the anticipation of getting a shot,
and how terrifying it is,
but you haven't even had the needle plunge into your skin yet.
Well it's only been two days,
but the fact that I  know that I am essentially going to have to go
the rest of my life
ahahsdsdfdlskjfshdlfkhsdfs

In the white room

with the black curtains

she is waiting....

There is a man that i know,

For 17 years He never spoke.

Guess he had nothing to say.

He opened his mouth on just one day,

I listened with all of my might.

But was scared by the look in his eyes,

Like he had already lost the fight

And there was no hope ever in sight.

You're gone,

colours seem to f a d e.

Also, J'adore working on this book my sister got me!

The one positive thing that's came out of the last few months.

I wish it would be,

in black and white.

At least, I would sleep,

in your wooden arms tonight.

Hey.
These last couple days have been awful, but in a more literal sense then it was before then.
Yesterday, inexplicabely, I threw up a lot. Then slept for 13 hours.
Today I had an open mic and covered Iron and Wine's version of Such Great Heights.
Things feel very surreal and negative,
like there is some sort of grayscaled haze lingering over everything I do,
everyone I see.
Like that beautiful old grainy film I love.
Nothing's clear.
But it's not dark in the profound manner that the film is.
Also, I'm finding relationships to be very trying.
Ahh.
I have two days of school left.
But I'm not feeling nostalgic or anything,
I just want to be alone all the time.
Such sself-alienation.

Shear

Clear

Clearwater.

If you wake away I'll walk away,
first tell me which road you will take.
I don't wanna risk our paths crossin some day,
so if you walk this way I'll walk that way.
-Conor Oberst.

Download Hungry for a Holiday
by Conor Oberst and The Album Leaf

This has been a good weekend I think, conclusively.
Struggled with some demons friday,
but I got to spend time with Jessie, who I absuloutely adore.
Saturday I got to spend time with Eric, and Evan,
and then today Paul and Evan.
I had some really cool nature experiences with Paul today,
made me really appreciate the world.

Going tto spend the night with Jessie tonight,

Eric and Evan tommorow,

Pol sunday.

All awful things that went down in the last couple days aside,

I'm really hoping this week will turn around, this weekend.

It's Italian Day on Commercial Sunday and I may be going;

I'm looking forward to this all.

Now I have to catch

a bus.

bye.

My Video of Laura Marling

My upcoming dates of significance:
June 12th: Metric (2nd time seeing them)
June 28th: Commencement
July 7th: Leaving for Europe
July 28th: Home from Europe
August 16-18th: Roots n Blues (Knaan)
August 28th: Vampire Weekend and BEACH HOUSE(2nd time seeing VW)
September 5-7th: Bumbershoot (Bob Dylan, Decemberists, Edward Sharpe)

Summer in the city.

Today you just close your eyes

and I just watch you

Slip  A  w   a   y

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zVWcptE6UAI
L o v e.

M e m o r y Tapes.

Deadmau5

They were as visually stunning as they were musically trippy.

The National

I loved the National.

About Today was rad.

VAMPIRE WEEEKENDDD

In december drinking horchata

I looked psychotic in a balaclava.

SO GOOD.

sweet jesus.

A video I took at Sasquatch while waiting in line to get in.

Sasquatch

Sasquatch was fantastic.

Imagine a music festival, a normal one where some people are drunk, some are smoking weed. Then add everyone doing E, and you will have Sasquatch.
It was so beautiful, and I met some rad people,
and saw some fantastic bands,
and danced like a mofo.

Laura Marling;

Hope in the Air was her best song.

She was very cute and charming and British.

Mumford and Sons:

They were fantastic.

Sigh no More and White Blank Page blew my mind

it was so brilliant.

The Middle East

This rad Australian band who had really good harmonies,

the wind was blowing furiously during their concert,

and I was front row,

it was a very ethereal experience.

I like the darkest side of my heart

the most.

PATRICK WATSON

my favourite live performer:

I saw Patrick in December at the Vogue front row, and he was fantastic.

I got there super early and was front row again, and it was just as good as the first time, if not better. He was smoking the whole time,

and was super beautiful.

He performed Travelling Salesman, Big Bird, Fireweeds, Beijing, and Luscious Life.

After the show I gave a Poloraid with a Haiku I wrote on it to a bouncer, and he gave it to Patrick. Patrick smiled and waved at me, and finished taking his stuff away with the poloroid in his mouth.

Here are all some more pictures of it.