i got no time for sad songs baby
don't need you to say i'm crazy/stick out your tongue and you look at me/and I will bite it off you see

i'm stressed. but in a bad way. a way that makes me want to sit here and just BE stressed... as opposed to actually doing what it takes to make the stress go away. but you see my dear, i am tired of working to make the stress go away only to have a new stress get piled on my back. then i get rid of that one and another little monkey jumps on... so i've decided to just embrace the stress that's riding me right now. maybe it will magically disappear because my sickly kindness will scare it off. *cackle cackle*

or maybe i need to go to bed.

but, other than the stress... i'm doing great. really i am. go me. V-I-C-T-O-R-Y that's the way we spell VICTORY VICTORY VICTORY!!!

did you think that i would laugh when you said i was small?
did you think that that would pass as if nothing at all?/you say a lot of funny things, my little bunny/and i almost always laugh, but that's not really funny

"sometimes the things you want to do and the things you are capable of doing just aren't the same thing." i think other people's perceptions are silly. but its fun to hear that someone saw you as strong... stable... some sort of role model... self-confident... its fun, but silly. and sometimes it just makes me sigh and realize that perhaps people simply see me in the light that they choose fit. they see me in the way that best suits their needs. they see what they want. but if that's what i can do for them... then that's what i do. after all, sometimes i feel that all i am is other people's perceptions. maybe i am only brought to life in the minds of others. what do i know.

he chews on his toothpick and stares out the window
she picks at her dinner with her head down and shoulders slouched
he eats nothing
they both wear only black
it snows outside
he's watching it
her painted red nails hold the plastic fork
picking up her salad
some form of post-coital pleasure perhaps
they say nothing
he slouches now
as she scrapes the bottom of her plastic bowl,
she picks out the round cherry tomatoes.
he doesn't blink.
she opens her mouth... chewing.
he turns to fix his pants... rubbing his nose
anything.
she picks something else out of her salad
he shifts and watches the pudgy man clean
her hair is in a lose ponytail and some stray locks frame her face
she wears no make-up, no jewellry
he wears earrings
rubs nose
chews
their feet don't touch under the table
tiny bags circle her eyes when she looks up
she mutters, he forces a laugh
then distraction again from the pudgy man
she takes the two tomatoes and breaks them open one at a time
leaves them there
cleans her hands with the yellow napkin
her head rests in her hands
his hands are clasped
her eyes can't find a home
they both look at the same spot out the window.
with a nod, he cleans her tray. she looks cold.
they get up to leave
and he carries her drink.

"regular attendance and punctuality are vital to good academic performance and essential for continuous learning"

they all come and peep through a hole in the wall
keep the bastards guessing

hormone-infused me is not a pretty site. i'm frustrated with my lack of ability to do schoolwork right now. my head is pounding. i'm freakin crying because i can't comprehend this biology assignment. my socks are two days old and my hair is greasy as all hell. did i mention that my head hurts? it does. i am stressing about school... about money... about decisions... i'm a huge girl. a psycho even. laugh. i'm mad at my mom. no, i'm sad with my mom. my dad's watching the damn miss america pageant. i'm a big fat loser, basically. and i'm crying because i can't figure out the easiest biology questions ever.

actually, more than anything, i just feel silly.
and don't tell me to get some sleep.

who cares?
my oscar highlight (besides the obvious michael moore... or maybe more obvious)... was adrien brody. i believe i have a new love.
1. grabbing halle and really giving it to her. lol.
2. crying while thanking his parents and not in a cheesy "shut up" kind of way.
3. being all stern and sexy in making the academy stop playing their "exit" theme music. i was awed. so stern. so sexy. *rowr*
4. rambling on and on and on.

o. the love.

after this there will be no one
after this there will be so many good ones

1. the other day at work, a boy, his friend, and his mom came in. what struck me about the three was the boy's resemblance to a man. something about the way he carried himself was almost erie. he was young... but when we would make eye contact... i felt like i could see too much of him, if that makes any sense. i was almost creeped out and saddened at the same time by the way he... was. (he went on to have a rather interesting conversation with his mom about how "cinderella cheats on the prince" but his mom just shook her head through most of his rambling)

2. it weirds me out to watch pregnant women. well, more lately than ever before. i watched a pregnant woman the other day. she was carrying on as if she wasn't holding a child inside her. as if her uterus wasn't craddling a tiny person. she was acting completely normal. maybe i'm the weird one... but if i ever get pregnant... god, i will probably be the most annoying pregnant person in the history of pregnant people. i would not be able to carry on as if nothing was going on. i would be constantly amazed at my body and the life inside of it. i would not be able to continue on with day to day chores and such. i would sit in my room taking pictures of myself, painting... and simply staring at my body... feeling the baby kick... hell, dancing with myself even. i don't know. yes, perhaps i would have to continue on with the inanity of life... still walk around a mall as if nothing was going on... i suppose i would have to. but i would have to do it while holding a sign above my head that read "my god, look at me. i am amazing."

pregnancy leaves me in awe. pregnant women leave me in awe. something about the way that pregnant women can carry on without being completely self-absorbed (like i would be) really amazes me.

i could stay here
become someone different/i could stay here/become someone better

i can't shake this bad mood. i walk around waiting for whatever i'm doing to be over. i go to school and wait for that to end. i go to soccer and watch the clock. i get to work and can't wait to leave. where in god's name do i want to go? why can't i just BE somewhere.

i was horrible company today. felt bad for everyone that tried to be around me. its hard when you feel so disgustingly lonely and the people around you only seem to make it worse.

calculus is calling. sleep will have to wait a couple of hours.

we're only gonna die for our own arrogance
so we might as well take our time

i don't think i had one interesting thought all day. here's my day in incoherent thoughts.
"fucking sister... fuck... i'm up... its MY bathroom 2 minutes... grumble grumble"
"stop fucking staring at me i hate you TA enemy... yes i am picking at the safety pin that is currently keeping the hole in the crotch of my pants somewhat patched up"
"i hate calculus"
"where's jeff... i need help with this calculus"
"dammit. i need jeff again."
"fuck, jeff's gonna realize i'm an idiot if i ask for help again. so far i've done a good job at hiding my idioticness (yes, its definitely a word)... but i think he's catching on today."
"jeff, stop MAKING me listen to the new white stripes songs... ok, gimme the damn ear phones."
"uh oh. ms ireland is making the graveness of the war sink in. uh oh. getting sad. uh oh. getting scared. dammit. i had so far avoided these feelings. dammit. we're all gonna die..."
"i don't want to go to soccer practice."
"goddammit, why do people have to run so fast?"
"o yea, burning fat... feeling the chunk melting off... i'm super... look at me go..."
"how dirty would it be to leave this used sports bra in my locker and re-use it on thursday... nah, too dirty. but these shorts could definitely be re-used..."
"thank god sam's driving me home. thank god for sam."
"fuck off sharon. yesterday i was training you... and today you're bossing me around. fuck off."
"fuck off customers."
"FUCK!"
"empty store. empty store. i could be naked and rubbing myself all over the coffee beans... naked coffee... empty store..."
"mmmmmm sublime..."

and if you actually read all of those things... well, get some sleep.

stressssssssss
dammit. ok, i am going to come off as a little bitch but i don't care.
yes, my boss is horrid with money and paycheques and anything of that matter. he pays us late, his cheques bounce... he sucks with money. i get that. actually, he doesn't have a LOT of money to go around. he just doesn't like to say it. it's not like he's purposely trying not to pay us. at least this is what i would rather believe.

so... i find out that some employees... FORMER employees... have gone to the labour board to report him for his misconducts... and i... well... i'm pissed. pissed because i'm selfish. because it means that when the cafe is at stake... so is my job. i like my job. its easy. i work a lot. i don't mind it. i NEED the money.
*andrea just called and informed me that the schedule was CHANGED... yea... just changed. without anyone's consent... and of course i'm booked for the one day i took off... AND the staff meeting is wednesday when i am at the kid koala thingy. geeze. now i'm more pissed.*

goddammithellassmotherfuckingpiecesofshit.
fuckingsdjahflawuehfasdnfcalsiudhf asdA AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
i hate everyone.

geeze.
i am watching the news.
men are drawing on a screen. the screen has little icons of soldiers and tanks... blue and red... looks like they are playing a game. there are designed LOGOS... "target iraq" everywhere. it makes me sick that somewhere... there was a conversation that went like this...
"so joe designer man... ctv needs a logo. a logo for the war. it needs to be catchy and slick. o yea... make sure the word 'iraq' is incorporated somehow..."


disgusting.

i am sorry... i cannot take this as seriously as i should be. and why is everyone MEN!?!? why are there no women talking!?! argh. sorry. i try to calm the irrational feminist. but she's irrational. she comes out when she pleases.

red silver sounds in your belly
you need a dream to drown you out

tired day... barely woke up before i needed a nap... i suck at calculus... slept away the beautiful day... left for work... but not before snapping at my sister and calling my mom a bitch... i regret. tried to forget on the way there... my money was there. i was happy. it wasn't busy. i sat staring out the window. it was warm. the back door was open. there was a breeze. i was drinking hot coffee. i wasn't feeling that good. i started crying. there was no one there to hide from. i laughed at my stupidity. why was i crying? i let the wave wash over me. felt better. that's how it should be. busy night. lots of wine and mudslides. got out of hand... businessmen begging for alcohol after closing time. being ridiculously pathetic. wanted to knee them in the crotch. throw them out. hurt them. show them a mirror. they probably wouldn't see. a drunk woman almost being carried out by her husband (?). it was my alcohol that did it. but i took the tips. and said "cheers". it disgusted me.

feeling needy. uh oh. tears again. this drink isn't helping. a stiff drink is a mixed blessing. can't tell if my feelings are numbed or amplified. i'm sorry. no reason to feel this way. i'm sorry.

you're already in hell, you're already in hell/i wish we could go to hell/when the bottle gets empty/then life ain't worth the drown

starting tomorrow, your balls come off

"i mean, even homework is something id rather do than sit with my friends and discuss the same old. why else would i not go to school this week except in the afternoons to do tests? i dont believe im missing anything, because i know what to expect from my peers, and that is so not a good thing, you know?"

why do i relate so heavily? i stole that quote from a livejournal girl that i stalk. yes, she goes to ward. ahhhhhh i'm a creepy. but anyways... yea. it's true. not that i am tired of my friends... or maybe i am. but not in the cruel way that first comes to mind. i remember a time when i would want to surround myself with them always. i never wanted to miss anything. i would get hurt if they went out without me... but now... nope. i am not terribly bothered by these things anymore. it's true that sometimes it just seems like the same old thing. no one's fault of course. but still, very stale. that explains my choices of late... to not go out when i could... to sit at home and eat instead. lol. it's not the same anymore. i just assumed it was because i had changed. that i had lost that dependence i once had. yes, i am still very much dependent... but it's different. not a constant, validating dependence anymore... i don't need them to define me like i used to. i've learned (or think i have) how to define myself. i'm not the same as i was in grade 10... so why do some of my friendships seem the same?

why don't you ladies believe me when i'm screaming?
i always believe you

i stare at this picture of us
it sits on my bedside table
i don't know why
you with your boyish smile
your sneakers and blonde hair
chubby red cheeks and fingers
a face i remember...
but not clear enough.
i can stare into your eyes...
but the recognition i long for...
slips through the air
i sit beside you here
years have gone by since then
my hair is boyish and short
my ears stick out and i look awkward
wearing pink and not smiling
more curious looking than anything else.
i stare into those eyes...
again, a recognition i long for...
but don't have.
a me so young that memory won't let me recall
who i was or why i'm not smiling
my eyes seem unproportionate... too large for my tiny face
my nose sticks up just like it always has
i recognize my features...
they're all where they belong...
but the pieces don't make sense.
you and i
we're so bright
the chair we sit in is large and old
we are small and young
bright to dark
new to old
you so eager and me so odd
i can't recall.
so i keep this by my head
while i sleep
hoping i will remember what it was like to be me sitting beside you that day
hoping you or i can tell me.

some of my friends don't know who they belong to
some can't get a single thing to work inside

"This is the secret of really vulgar and of pornographic people... sex is dirty and dirt is sex, and sexual excitement becomes playing with dirt, and any sign of sex in a woman becomes a show of her dirt."
- D.H. Lawrence, Pornography and Obscenity, 1929

so, i'm reading this book and it's really making me think. making me remember innocent childhood forays into sex... like... making my barbies "do it". lol. which is funny in itself simply because neither ken nor barbie had genitals (or nipples for that matter). i remember the way i idolized "big girls" and the awesome way girls have friendships with each other. it's also made me realize how fucked up sex ed was. does anyone remember learning anything about female orgasms? because i don't. i remember male ejaculation clearly though. it was practically stated as the main event/point of sex (talk about pressure on guys to "perform"). i also don't remember learning about the clitoris. sure, it was on the anatomy diagrams... but did they ever tell us how neat it is?! no. it also made me realize the way most of us continue to just assume that men's sexuality is more prominent and urgent... or that they "want it more." bullshit. i can remember many a conversation where we'd all agree that boys wanted sex more than girls. then i can remember being confused by this "fact" even as i was confirming it. i think we need to stop assuming that the truth is as such. it's also neat learning all these different facts about the history of female sexuality... the ways in which it used to be exhalted... then the ways it was forgotten and condemned... and now... well its hard to say. i think we just get too many mixed messages and contradictions... smacking us around like we were a tennis ball in a game with lots of grunting.

"If (a woman) is normally developed mentally, and well-bred, her sexual desire is small. If this were not so, the whole world would become a brothel..."
- Richard von Krafft-Ebing Psychopathia Sexualis, 1886
(makes me feel kinda powerful)

look, i'm standing naked before you
don't you want more then my sex?

let's get to the point. i let brendan take naked pictures of me tonight. not porn star naked pictures. normal person naked pictures for his school assignment. it was uncomfortable at first... seeing as he decided to stay fully clothed. lol. but i was surprisingly comfortable with the whole process. i continue to be amazed with myself. things that i think i can't do... or things that i never would have done a year ago... are the same things i can just DO now. and i'm glad i could do it. or maybe i'm just glad he asked me. i think for me it was another step in this journey i seem to be on in getting comfortable in my skin. it was a big step and i thank him for that. and seeing as he procrastinated like the procrastinating bastard he is, we got them developed right after... and we got to look through them. i actually liked a lot of em.

it's weird seeing naked pictures of yourself. everyone should try it. take your body and put it in an art context. stop scrutinizing and start embracing. god dammit. i'm fucking sick of only seeing naked supermodels. i wish there was a "naked" day where we all had to walk around buck fucking naked. we need perspective. we need to see that a naked woman does not always look like jennifer lopez and a naked man does not always look like brad pitt. and if we don't look like jennifer lopez or brad pitt naked, that in no way means we aren't gorgeous or our bodies are any less real. nakedness is a lot more diverse than we are led to believe. and i hate it.

i'm on
she speaks in sorry sentences/miraculous repentances

it struck me today that perhaps i am only interested in artsy people because i am interested in being a muse. i want to see what emotions i can evoke from other people. i want to be with someone that loves me and that i inspire. i want to see myself represented in their art. i want to see their perspective. i want a lot of things. i think i just would like some concrete evidence of my influence of others. does that make any sense? i would just like to know what affect my being has on others, if any. write about me. paint me. let me see myself through your eyes. hell, rip out your eyes and paste them to my mirror. let me use your creativity to satisfy my own selfish needs.

"you know when you see someone... and you get that feeling... you know the one i'm talking about. you feel nauseous, nervous, and complete all at once. somehow that person has found a way into your system and their electricity just jolts you around and around. and you know. but then, there's a time when the plug gets pulled. when you look at that person and somehow feel nothing. whatever was there, seems to have disappeared gradually then quite suddenly. that's my ultimatum. when i walk off the plane and see her... if i get that jolt... then i'll know she's still a part of me. but if i don't... then i'll know what i have to do."

"that seems unfair."

"i know."

sometimes i'm just happy i'm older
i see myself change/as the days change over

all figured out/somehow/comfortable in my body/at least i like to pretend/is anyone?/strip for me/be comfortable doing it/not self-conscious?/not conscious/out of touch/comfort in bearing the only thing we pretend we can keep grounded/bodies are weird/your body is you/my body is me/an extension/cannot exist without me/it is the only way i can connect with you in a concrete way/beat my body/make love to my body/the signs are far more visible then loving or beating the rest of me/show me your body/let me touch you/examine you/please examine me/poke and prod/scrutinize/feel me/tell me how i feel/tell me i'm ok/validate me.

me and you
i may be dead honey but i was left with my eyes

i've had that line engraved on the inside of my ears for the past couple of days. last night was interesting. i went to money. yes, a club downtown. lol. i actually had fun. it's definitely not something i would do every weekend... hell, i don't know when i'll ever do it again... but it wasn't as bad as i thought it would be. it was possible to dress like meeee (ie. no short skirts and boob popping out tops) and dance without compromising my dignity. lol. jeanette and i pretty much sticked with each other and avoided the creep-os. we did find a couple of fun people to dance with for a bit... but the ratio of fun people to creepy people wasn't good.

at times i literally felt like a piece of meat. yes, a common terminology. but you know what? it works. we would walk by guys that were just leaning against the walls and whatnot and they would reach out their hands to grab us, make some sort of incoherent noise at us, or just leer. and that wasn't cool. but you know what, i was less offended and more sad. it made me sad to think that it probably works with some girls. hell, by the end of the night, there were enough people making out to prove that it works.

then comes time to get a taxi. yipes. there were fun people dancing to a street performer man's renditions of brown eyed girl, bob dylan, and tom petty. that was kinda fun for awhile until my hair started to freeze to my head and the friendly strangers realized they were far too old for us (yet continued to talk to us, i might add)... where was i? whatever. i was cold and wanted to go home. seema chased away the first cab that could have taken us to scarborough. i wanted to smoosh her with my fingers. when we finally did get a cab, he was satan. blamed us for the dvp being closed. and almost killed us with his attempts at driving in the snow. he makes me rethink this whole cabbing it home idea. especially in bad weather.

BUT, the moral of the story (that turned out far too long) is... FEAR NOT. you can go to a club and be yourself and have fun with your friends with minimal creepiness. just make sure you are super duper drunk. mwah.

ps. if you get to skip the line cos the bouncers think you're hot and cool... then it must be true. i'm officially hot and cool.

a girl's best friend
i just don't fit in this place/their thoughts cast me out of here/their home has run out of space/my mind's already out of here

i might as well start this thing up again with a little white stripes because it's fitting of my mood lately. ok, it's better then fitting. it IS my mood lately. so here i am again. look into my car window. cars are mini-worlds on wheels. looking at someone in their car... yelling, singing, kissing... maybe even yawning... is looking at them in their surroundings. from your own surroundings. its a weird mesh of worlds, our streets are. so here's my little car on wheels... er, my thoughts from some impulses to my hands to my fingertips to my keyboard through some wires onto your screen to you. that's more like it. too bad you can't see me singing and scratching my ass.

i am all alone dear/i am all alone