Lost at sea, she
wasn't surprised to free
her mind.
Passengers bound
to destinations fear:
not found.
Really think they
can escape the same fate,
we prey.
Disillusioned
to the very end and
stranded.
Lost at sea, she
wasn't surprised to see
her kind.
It's not my fault,
he's a pillar of salt,
fallen
down around us,
blanket of white
crystals,
missiles.
It's not alright.
Give yourself a fright now,
right now.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
WHAT? on the ferry...part IV (the lost book)
I really am not a very funny person, but sometimes I crack myself up with more vigor than any established stand-up comic ever could...
Point: Jan 8 page in my notebook reveals the optimistic, hopeful and wide-eyed Coach Emily, from the carefully crafted pattern transition schemes, to the numbered positions with corresponding names, to the in depth (albeit point form) descriptions below it all.
Next page: Mar 8 - Arrow + well, that didn't work (surprise)
And that sums up the 2010/11 season. thank you, ladies & gents.
For no particular reason other than the fact it gives me 1.5 dull hours to psycho-analyze myself and then record it down, the ferry ride from Nanaimo to Vancouver and back is where I do much writing. I have just discovered another entry in my notebook that I'm going to tack onto my 'ferry' miniseries. Also, in my last post I meant to say 2011, not 2010. It was this year! Huzzahh!
March 8, 2011
The evolution of anxiety in 2 days.
must be eating from a massive jar of derpsauce to board the wrong ferry. lights fading, sitting backwards behind a lovely French couple. sick sick sick.
Please don't leave without us.
Why the derp.
"...all I see
yeah yeah
all I see
is me.
"There's no where to move on,
it's me."
Lucky Charms are not that lucky. and people are always after them. Over the aisle is the couple who budged onto the bus to Horseshoe Bay. Fuckers.
They're the ones at crowded bars that weave through everyone while holding hands in a line. Why do people always weave and worm their way through and up to the top? Slithering about. Masturbating to their own special-ness. Because it's so hip to go to The Island. It's so hip because you're definitely the very first person to visit for the weekend 'to get away from the city'. Yeah you are so awesome and innovative.
cynicism is the new black, btw.
GET ON WITH IT.
I'm getting there,
I'm getting there!
It was definitely Mr Green.
It will take forever to piece it together. Bleh. I just threw-up in my mouth a little when I remembered that I'm still here and crippled by anxiety. I'm disabled (like on IT Crowd)
3 reasons not to give up:
1. on the ferry ride to V, some dolphins were surfing the boat's wake.
2. The view of West Van from the Lionsgate. snow-peaked coast mountains, inclusive.
3. The sliver of moon in the sky looked like a stray nail clipping stuck in a blue carpet.
But also, my friends.
I guess.
I saw a Ginger guy in waiting room A that had black eyes. or at least very dark brown.
The devil incarnate?
High as a kite.
The only great thing about BC is the BC Burger. but you can get it anywhere. and also it has nothing to do with British Columbia.
Point: Jan 8 page in my notebook reveals the optimistic, hopeful and wide-eyed Coach Emily, from the carefully crafted pattern transition schemes, to the numbered positions with corresponding names, to the in depth (albeit point form) descriptions below it all.
Next page: Mar 8 - Arrow + well, that didn't work (surprise)
And that sums up the 2010/11 season. thank you, ladies & gents.
For no particular reason other than the fact it gives me 1.5 dull hours to psycho-analyze myself and then record it down, the ferry ride from Nanaimo to Vancouver and back is where I do much writing. I have just discovered another entry in my notebook that I'm going to tack onto my 'ferry' miniseries. Also, in my last post I meant to say 2011, not 2010. It was this year! Huzzahh!
March 8, 2011
The evolution of anxiety in 2 days.
must be eating from a massive jar of derpsauce to board the wrong ferry. lights fading, sitting backwards behind a lovely French couple. sick sick sick.
Please don't leave without us.
Why the derp.
"...all I see
yeah yeah
all I see
is me.
"There's no where to move on,
it's me."
Lucky Charms are not that lucky. and people are always after them. Over the aisle is the couple who budged onto the bus to Horseshoe Bay. Fuckers.
They're the ones at crowded bars that weave through everyone while holding hands in a line. Why do people always weave and worm their way through and up to the top? Slithering about. Masturbating to their own special-ness. Because it's so hip to go to The Island. It's so hip because you're definitely the very first person to visit for the weekend 'to get away from the city'. Yeah you are so awesome and innovative.
cynicism is the new black, btw.
GET ON WITH IT.
I'm getting there,
I'm getting there!
It was definitely Mr Green.
It will take forever to piece it together. Bleh. I just threw-up in my mouth a little when I remembered that I'm still here and crippled by anxiety. I'm disabled (like on IT Crowd)
3 reasons not to give up:
1. on the ferry ride to V, some dolphins were surfing the boat's wake.
2. The view of West Van from the Lionsgate. snow-peaked coast mountains, inclusive.
3. The sliver of moon in the sky looked like a stray nail clipping stuck in a blue carpet.
But also, my friends.
I guess.
I saw a Ginger guy in waiting room A that had black eyes. or at least very dark brown.
The devil incarnate?
High as a kite.
The only great thing about BC is the BC Burger. but you can get it anywhere. and also it has nothing to do with British Columbia.
on the ferry: part III
December 21, 2010 (The long-awaited final chapter in the 'on the ferry' trilogy of 2010)
This is a fucking $3 pen. hey?
I delight in de-lighting the room so I can see you in the dark. I see you in the dark of my mind - you are beautiful , but a figment only. Only see, not a touch. Not a single touch for either of us. The fake you and the fake me, but at least we are happy.
No sharing allowed. unless you feel like sharing; then I will listen with intent to conquer.
Not not not. a lot. caught there.
I broke up with myself in poem once. I'd had it and lost it.
SHOWER OF BASTARDS
Play nicely :( otherwise it's not fair to your teenage mother. ey-oooo
The lights of civilization are nearing, nearing the mental clearing. You better love the christmas present I bought you or I'll keep it for myself. my selfish selfdom.
I want my mummy.
taxi-cab tribulations come a-trip tripping me totally. info-matron I will not divulge.
Hipsters, go back to Vancouver. We're on Island Time whether we like it ar not.
I have no one to call, so I call to order this corroboration.
This is a fucking $3 pen. hey?
I delight in de-lighting the room so I can see you in the dark. I see you in the dark of my mind - you are beautiful , but a figment only. Only see, not a touch. Not a single touch for either of us. The fake you and the fake me, but at least we are happy.
No sharing allowed. unless you feel like sharing; then I will listen with intent to conquer.
Not not not. a lot. caught there.
I broke up with myself in poem once. I'd had it and lost it.
SHOWER OF BASTARDS
Play nicely :( otherwise it's not fair to your teenage mother. ey-oooo
The lights of civilization are nearing, nearing the mental clearing. You better love the christmas present I bought you or I'll keep it for myself. my selfish selfdom.
I want my mummy.
taxi-cab tribulations come a-trip tripping me totally. info-matron I will not divulge.
Hipsters, go back to Vancouver. We're on Island Time whether we like it ar not.
I have no one to call, so I call to order this corroboration.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Moving to Sweden
Me (in response to Conservative Majority): I'm going to move to Sweden where they have %50 taxes and everything's free.
Parents: *scoff* It won't be free, think again.
Me: Yeah, free university and social services.
Parents: Just wait until half your hard earned money goes towards paying for everyone else's education.
Me: What is wrong with that?? Maybe I wish for my fellow Canadians to be educated and supported by their peers Maybe I wouldn't mind a portion of even my minuscule paycheck being collected to end poverty, or to finance a bright student's university degree. All for one, eh? Why is it acceptable to be obnoxiously and flamboyantly patriotic, but taboo to suggest we help each other out?
Parents: You have a lot to learn about life.
Me: You have a lot to learn about me.
Sigh.
Parents: *scoff* It won't be free, think again.
Me: Yeah, free university and social services.
Parents: Just wait until half your hard earned money goes towards paying for everyone else's education.
Me: What is wrong with that?? Maybe I wish for my fellow Canadians to be educated and supported by their peers Maybe I wouldn't mind a portion of even my minuscule paycheck being collected to end poverty, or to finance a bright student's university degree. All for one, eh? Why is it acceptable to be obnoxiously and flamboyantly patriotic, but taboo to suggest we help each other out?
Parents: You have a lot to learn about life.
Me: You have a lot to learn about me.
Sigh.
Monday, January 3, 2011
on the ferry: part II
Dec 21, 2010
Is she too young to be the sole soul caregiver of those kids? Maybe I just underestimate people's ages because I think I look more mature. Douche.
Douche in cursive.
Douche Bag: A Departure from Tact and Sense, a film by Ems, the douche-wad
Please Stay. Please. I'd like to say I'm not begging, but I am. I'm ready to say go away world, but I want you to stay.
Closed for navigation to the station at the metro. Petals on a wet, black ship's bow. These faces in the crowd are my own.
Love is actually. it is happening to hurt and wreak. Assembly Station A: the last spot your family met in one place. Then I dove off the Sun Deck and decked a mermaid in the tits. I told her I could sing better than she could, but I knew that wasn't true. All Lies. for some reason it was all a lie and I'm sorry.
I dare you to stomp on my toes. just kidding, I've got steel toed work boots. BOOTS. BIG BOOTS. and a steel toed work heart.
Then suddenly the turbulent tossing tossed the tousled trimmings o'er the brim respectively. my TEA spilled all over the floor. blood was spilled from the harboured cavities of the mind. The tall ships are here again.
and SCENE. but I missed the beat, so fuck you hollywood misdirection. The aches and pains are real. So Real. but I don't want to hear there's a pill. Let's pillage that shite out of spite and fight advertisements that shout our failures in perfect falsetto. Bring back the tenor and the bass clef. Le Clé. THE KEY TO UNLOCK...
I had a thought...
but that was then.
I have a soft spot, but I'm afraid I'll never let you find it.
on the ferry: part I
Dec 21, 2010
answer your god damned phone. and shut up your god damned kids. in fact, just shut up.
I am mean. I am insensitive. I want to run screaming into the night.
Apparently, no man is an island. I wish I was an island sometimes. Then I remember how shitty it is travelling back and forth from the island and I promise my friends it will be easier to reach me. if they want to.
I don't really fancy being a rock either. It would be so so cold. so I turn up my music loud.
ACHE ACHE ACHE PAIN
They make it look so stupid. it's not stupid. fluorescent lights tanning skin yellower. discouleur. discolouration at the train station watching it all fall to peaces pleases my species. We tried harder laughed father and stilled fear into moonshine ("To get older still")
Tea is my lifeblood
you are my lifeblood
life is my lifeblood
have another drink, preferably T.E.A.
When I was little I wrote Es with four prongs if I left too much space between the three.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
The Notebook Returns
Once upon a time, I used to write in a notebook everyday. It's been so long I thought I'd lost it, so instead I wrote, for the first time in months, on a folded piece of loose leaf.
Stream of Consciousness:
you're doing him a poetic injustice.
CRAICOW. is craic a lacking. but not lacking craic. or vodka. or Godka.
imagine the pipe cleansing power of 95 proof spirit de-ice your heart in a heartbeat. the drano of alcohol.
Sail away in a sailboat so put your sole up for sale for scale. pallour valour in the parlour with a spar candy bar. Handy at sports to court the shorty at McDaids on a Sunday. Sunday. Sunday. Brunch of bacon and toasties toasty warm by the fire aspire for higher learners and yearners for the spread of the sun over green. Fields and fields and fields of green and of grey we go looking for lost things in the post post war and post modern artistiques listening to terrible music with tearable hearts. we start. Tear us apart, love. Above there is no sign. There is no Mine. or Thine. or His. It's ours in hours it seems to take driven to be ridden of sadness and doubt shout shout shout! Shout it out loud! Let it go sailing flailing and ultimately failing to see the light of days dismays me and betrayed. I strayed from the past present and future lost my bearing in Berring sea to a polar bear with no molars.
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