A Highway With No One On It

Today is not a good day.

I feel like crawling out of my skin.

I don't like me, or want to be near me, or want to listen to anything I have to say. I'm in no mood to entertain other people and have done nothing productive with my time. I slept for 2 hours last night. I didn't get sleepy until well after 3 am and then fought going to sleep for reasons I can't articulate.

All I want is to be left alone to my own devices. I just want to disappear. Step out of the tableaux and capture it for posterity.

I want to do my school work. I want to pass the courses I've been struggling through all semester.

I can't focus on it though. The words skitter across the page, and corralling them into manageable lines takes more effort than I have to give. The concepts are too big, crushing me under their massive weight. Reading is like moving boulders by hand; impossible.

The roads to the future are so long and I'm already so tired. I'm exhausted emotionally, physically, mentally.

I've hit the proverbial wall.

All my patience is gone.

For myself, for others.

Be creative already!

Be financially responsible already!

Be organized already!

Stop staring into space; bouncing around in your head.

What happens when the choices stop being yours to make? What happens when the things you want to do get waylaid by things your head can't control? What happens when the thoughts won't stop? What happens when they refuse to be orderly and connected?

How am I to find my way back when I had only the briefest glimpses of where I started?

Do I want to find my way back when I will only be repeating this struggle over and over and over again?

How monotonous life can be.

How overwhelming.

The ominous dichotomy swallowed me whole.

-Jessica Leigh Dec 2007

It hits you so much harder than you thought. (but you don't worry, cause you got soul)

The scene is unfolding,
Dazzling sun drapes the revelers.
Scholars, slackers, stoners and sluts
Pass the day in relative peace
Wandering through the heat

Like birds they pass,
Preening and posturing
Hoping to attract someone
Who they havn't yet met.
Conversations under the leafy greens.

Is kinship at the fore of their collective minds?
I wager not.
But, this does not mean it isn't there
As I can't help but enjoy the view.

No monochrome today
'Rejoice' they cry through their clothing
Riots of shades done peacefully.
Can we learn something from fashion?

Other than we strive to be different
Through all our layers
Knowing yet that we are all still the same,
Underneath the various colours, clothes and names.

-Jessica Leigh Oct 2007

Sooner or Later, Everybody's Kingdom Must End

Nature.

What is Nature? Is it as the Romantics thought, a facilitation of the sublime? Or is it simply the Treasury we feel entitled to raid over and over again? Or are WE Nature, only doing what years of evolution has hardwired into us?

I don't think there is a simple answer.

We have viewed ourselves as outside of Nature for generations. We have built our houses and constructed our cities, ensconcing ourselves away from the very Nature which initially fostered our species. We have gotten into the habit of only looking at Nature to see what we can physically get out of it. We've pushed species over the brink of extinction without batting an eye.

I think we're due for a change of heart. Nature is not something one needs to conquer. Nature needs to be embraced.

After years of rapping Mother Nature on the back of the skull with our knuckles like impudent school children tormenting their grandmother, it's time to grow up. We are part of Nature. We are a species of Animal. We are as much a part of the web of life as the blades of grass on the Savannah. We are all connected, and for better or worse, humans have put themselves in to a position of power over Nature. Our actions impact everything around us.

The emissions from cars and factories and mass corporate farming effect Nature as far away as Baffin Island. Entire islands are being ravaged by global warming. The sheets of ice that prevented soil erosion are melting by as much as several feet a year. This means that new tracts of land are now being exposed to the harsh pounding of the Artic Sea, and slowly being submerged and torn apart.

What impact will that have on the people who have traditionally used those areas as hunting grounds? What impact will that have on the animals who lived on the island?What impact will all the added soil have on the Sea?

Nature encompasses everything on the planet. If your neighbour was throwing his garbage in to your backyard, I can only assume that you would not appreciate it. Are we being good neighbours to our co-inhabitants? Or are we throwing our garbage all over their living area?

I think we've been completely ignorant to the scale of the impact we've been having until recently. We can no longer justify our view of being outside of Nature. We are Nature. Why are we so hellbent on destroying the thing that sustains us? For avarice, for status, for pomp and show.

What good is a mansion and nice cars when our food supply is poisoned by our own emissions and carelessness? The rich will die alongside the poor when the natural disaster we've been goading finally happens.

Serious changes need to take place.

Beginning with how we perceive Nature.

We cannot afford to see Nature as something separate from humans and our world.

We are based in Nature. It deserves more respect than we give it.

Is it really difficult to phase out cruelty to animals? Is it hard to institute harsher punishments for defiling Nature? What is the motivation to not do this?

Do you somehow think that by accepting kickbacks and turning blind eyes to someone ripping a hole through habitat that it isn't happening?

The rainforest is burning as we speak, and they just discovered new plants and mammals which may hold the key to some cures we've been searching for. Well, clearly we need money more than we need cures, right? Dying is totally worth a paycheque.

That's idiocy.

And so is refusing to stand up for the planet which we've been raping for years.

Poaching animals extinct is not acceptable.

Poisoning the food chain because it's cheaper to bury toxic waste and feed animals ground up bits of other animals is not acceptable.

Allowing massive deforestation is not acceptable when we already have a carbon monoxide problem.

Selling cars that are behind the current scientific standard because it's cheaper is not acceptable.

Do people still really not see how much that effects not only animals and plants and the ground, but ourselves as well?

All the problems we have now are problems that we have brought on ourselves. Instead of ignoring the problems, lets face them and overcome them together.

Yes, we created the greenhouse effect.

So lets do something to reverse it. Lets sell products that help instead of hinder those efforts.

Lets institute laws that make poaching and cruelty to animals serious offences. Worth a death sentence. Not only is it a death sentence for the animals they hunt and torture, but it's a death sentence for Nature. You cannot knock out a link in the food chain without it effecting everything. If there were no tigers, the deer they hunt would become overrun.

We can see similar effects in Canada. The wolf was hunted almost to extinction, and now the deer populations in Ontario and Quebec are out of control, eating entire fields of crops in some remote areas.

That's one less field of crops for humans.

We are connected. Everything is everything.

It's time to stop approaching this issue as something that is unrealistic, because the longer we take that view, the more trouble we are going to be in. Not only as a species, but as a planet.

Animals in Africa are not causing massive impacts on the web of life. They are living as they always have. It's us who have deviated from the path of working in tandem with Nature, and it is up to us to find our way back.

We are Nature, and as of right now, we are sick. Ignoring sickness never makes it better. Lets take the doctor's advice and make some lifestyle changes.



-Jessica Dec 2007

For What It's Worth

Ok, so I can't sleep. It's time for some early morning honesty.
It's 3:20 am and for the life of me, I can't sleep.
Laying with my eyes closed just makes me more frustrated.
I watch documentaries.
Insomnia.
My life revolves around extremes.
Even as a child, I've battled it. I used to read until the wee hours of the morning when I was around 7. It's a habit I've never been able to break.
I don't know why. I can't explain it to you. It's like I'm hardwired from a completely different life than the rest of society who are all up and being industrious by 9am.
It's not that I don't love sleeping.
I could sleep days away easily, only getting up to use the washroom. In fact, ideally, that's how my life would be, which maybe says more about me and my view of the world than my love of sleeping.
I dunno.
All I know is that at 'bedtime' my fucking head won't stop firing neurons and I can't sleep. I lay here and watch documentaries. Not even reading the stuff I have to read for my exams! Documentaries!
I really do question my sanity some days.
Does any of that make logical sense? No.
I don't know what to do. I swing from wanting to sleep through days to wanting to stay awake for days so I don't miss anything exciting.
I'm aware that's a calling card of manic depressives, I know.
Are you born manic depressive, or is it something you can develop?
I also thought I was developing a stammar and dyslexia but I was told that that's highly unlikely.
But there's no denying that I jumble my words or that I'm up at 3:30 am perusing the documentaries at alluc.org for something interesting.
My whole life is like this.
There are days where I'll eat barely anything. Where I can't even finish a salad. It's just not appealing to eat for some reason. Hunger never really kicks in to the point where I'm starving and I need something to eat.
Other days, I'll be hungry and go WAY overboard. I'll eat everything that looks good at the moment.
I can gain and lose 5 lbs on any given day. Pants that don't fit me cause I put on so much weight in one day, will fit me 3 days later. Do any of you know what that's called in eating disorder land? Restricting, and binging. I don't throw it up, so it's not a purge. But not eating for a whole day? Sometimes more, depending on my mood...that's not good.
Martha was spreading rumors that I was taking laxitives to lose weight.
This is categorically false.
When I lived in Peterborough, I was horribly depressed. I honestly didn't think I would survive. I didn't get out of my bed for 3 days once. I used the bathroom past midnight only to avoid contact with anyone. And I binged. And I binged. Trying to find comfort in food, as always.
It's taken a long time to quasi see that it's not true, although some foods do make me feel better like my grandma's dumplings.
All the eating, and lack of exercise, and late nights and general anxiety made me sick to my stomach. It was like I swallowed a ball of fire, and it was sitting in my gut. Gutrot, as most drunkards refer to it.
My mom gave me metamucil because she thought I needed more fibre. She also took me to a nutritionist. I didn't think they did much and just set the bottle aside. Never really bothered to touch it again until I knocked it over one day by accident and found that it was mostly empty.
I didn't think much of it at the time, since I was living with Michael who lived off of red meat. I assumed he was using it to help...pass all his chili.
When Sarah told me the shit Martha was saying about me behind my back, that almost made me more mad than all the other stupid shit she did.
Why would I want to shit more around all these people, when the year before I had been hiding until everyone had gone to bed to shit without anyone wanting the bathroom or harassing me?
Extremes are everywhere in my life.
They define me.
I've been so upbeat and positive about life lately, even though everything has gone to shit. I didn't hand in two papers, effectively killing my chances for graduating the year, and I don't even care.
Ask me about it next month, and the answer might be different. (I'm so stupid and lazy being towards the top of the list...although I still don't really care about going back for another couple classes next year. I just might be pissed that I had the opportunity to hand it in, and chose not to do it. I CHOSE to do everything BUT my school work)
I willingly sabotaged myself and whistled while I did it.
I want to be a writer, but don't write.
I'm scared of rejection so I don't submit often, and when I do, it's SUPRISE! rejected.
The story of my life is trying to find acceptence and never quite getting it.
It's probably why I'm so demanding with my friends. I want acceptance so bad, I want to be noticed for excelling at something. I have never really been singled out for being superb at something.
I've been an average kid all my life.
But I don't feel average, and there's the rub.
If I was happy getting a corporate job, I'd probably already have one.
I'm not happy with authority. I don't like being told what to do.
But I love giving orders.
More extremes.
I dunno.
Somedays I really question what the point is if I'm not happy.
Am I ever going to be happy?
I'm happy when I'm left the hell alone to do my own thing without interference. I'm happy when people give guidance when I ask for it, not before. I'm happy when I can explore my interests without fear of punishment, or consequence.
I'm happy when other people go out of their way to let me know that I mean something to them. Because what's the point?
What's the fucking point if you never tell someone that they made an impact on your life? How will they know? They'd probably be just like me, miserable and feeling all alone most of the time because no one cares to define in ways that I understand and appreciate, that I'm worth something to someone. More than someone who can make you laugh. More than someone to hang around and be silly with.
Maybe to most people I'm shallow.
I dunno.
I really don't have a fucking clue how the world percieves me. Should I care?
Do I care?
Yeah, I care but I probably shouldn't.
I really wish I could sleep.
I really wish these half-formed thoughts would disipitate and the white noise of all these colliding thoughts would stop.
I ate chili, and 2 hot dogs, and fries and 5 cheese sticks and a slice of cheesecake today.
That's fucking gross, but I couldn't stop. It all looked so good.
My body wants to sleep, but my brain wants more stimulation.
Normally, I smoke to sleep but with the budget on lockdown this is the result. 4am ramblings from a madwoman.
Fuck.
It feels like shit is going to be hitting the fan soon, and I'm going to have even more people interferring in my life. It's like I can feel their breathing on my neck already.
-J
~there's battlelines being drawn, nobody's right if everybody's wrong, young people speaking their mind getting so much resistance far behind...~ - For What It's Worth - Buffalo Springfield

Kool-Aid and Snoop Dogg

my kool-aid has stuff floating in it.
for now, i am going to assume that it's 'flavour pockets' and not 'poison pockets'.
if this post ends abruptly though, call somebody.
i am about to make a possibly shocking statement. (it might be the flavour pockets talking)

I love snoop dogg.
Not necessarily for his music (although a lot of it is pretty damn good)but the man himself. He's raising his kids to appreciate what they have. You don't see his kids having outrageous birthday parties (coughpdidycough) or wearing thousands of dollars of clothes. They wore slippers to play soccer with David Beckham for christ's sake. He had to supply them with proper gear. How unpretentious is that? He's also a strong advocate for marijuana, which upon doing a little research (and by research I mean, you guessed it, documentaries) seems to be less harmful than alcohol and tabacco. Which are both legal. I don't know how that makes sense at all. In the words of one Canadian politician; "I'd legalize this and tax the hell out of it." Which makes perfect economic sense to me.
Snoop sticks to his herb, despite arrests and courtcases and denied entry into certain foreign countries. That's principal man. And he doesn't hide it either. He could give a fuck who sees him toking on his blunt and you gotta respect that. Anyone who blatently says 'fuck the man' and pushes for reform through peaceful demonstrations of individual freedom of choice is a-ok with me dude.
And, he's seems like a good Dad. Running around on the soccer field with his kids and Beckham, he's actually quite endearing. He makes everyone laugh, even himself and that's good too. It shows you can be a responsable adult and a good father without fame, fortune, personal recreation choices and career getting in the way.
What more do you want?


-Jess

no title necessary

ok, I take it back.
I didn't write an essay.
And I'm not completely alone.
(but it still feels like that sometimes.)
-J

Sooner or later, you have to hit something.

The snow is blowing. Huge drifts appear and dissapear, created and destroyed by the wind. The road behind my house is barely visable; car lights fading into whiteness. I wonder about the people in those cars. They must be on their way to something very important to risk their lives.

I'm going to write an essay.

I'm going to email my prof.

I'm going to drink, drink my head quiet.

Hot Toddy and blankets on the bed.

My back aches, and my hips and knees are slowly giving out.

I should have been exercising this semester but it's a struggle.

Struggle to find anyone to join me, struggle to find time, struggle to find motivation.

What are friends?

What is the nature of friendship?

Somedays I think I have a very different understanding of how the world works than most people I know.

To me, friendship is sacred. Friendship means being there for your friends regardless of what happens. Friendship means trying to cheer up someone who is down for no other reward than a smile. To me, friendship means inclusion, not exclusion. To me, friendship is enjoying the company, not worrying about the financial consequences. Friendship is walking into the mouth of hell with someone and smiling about it. Friendship is being concerned for the well-being of those friends. Friendship is seeing an issue and talking it out in order to help, not ignoring it in hopes it will go away. Friendship is calling to say "I'm sorry, but I won't be able to make it. Have Fun anyways!" Friendship is about treating others with the respect you would want from them. Friendship is about loyalty. Frienship is about sharing. Friendship is about wanting the best for your friends. I'd gladly do everything possible to help a friend in serious need.

More often than not, I feel friendless.

No one is walking beside me. No one wants to devote any time to keeping in touch. No one is willing to return the values I hold dear. It drives me absolutely up the wall when people say they will do something and then never bother to even notify you that they won't be keeping up their promise. I can't understand if I am too demanding in my understanding of what friendship is, or if everyone else just settles for crap.

I question why I am friends with certain people sometimes, because it seems I give to them more than they return to me. Shouldn't friendships be equal? Shouldn't all the things I do for you, and all the ways I support you be reciproated? or is it ok for you to accept all my compliments in silence?

I'm not asking for a limb. I'm asking for recognition. I'm tired of oscillating. I'm going to start making changes in my life soon. Consider this your heads up.

You complain to me about the lack of contact you get from some of your friends, and then do the same thing to me. I'm over it.

I'd rather fall by myself than let you tear me down.

I'm so used to being alone now, I really don't think I'll ever be in an intimate relationship. Even my supposed best friend from years ago, Martha, didn't know me very well when she decided to freak the hell out on me.

By products of traveling as a child. No concrete home, no concrete friends, no confidants, no nothing.

All I know is that the way I strive to treat people (my friends) is not how I am treated in turn and that's going to end. I'm tired of feeling like a bad person because I don't get invited to shit like New Years Eve parties. (or that someone who has proven time and again not to be worthy of the title 'friend' gets invited instead of yours truley).

But that's ok, because if that's how it is...then I'm not sure I want you as a friend either.

Choices will be made. These are not threats, they are public service annoucements.

If you are wondering why I don't respond to you via facebook, or call you anymore, or generally try to stay in your life, then you should evaluate your definition of friendship, because it no longer jives with mine. (or ever really did jive with mine, and I got sick of trying when you weren't)

I'm content to be alone most of the time. It's easier to bear than pretending to be ok with "friends".

If you treat me as the friend you only have to see once every couple of months, then I'm not interested. That's not friendship to me, and I suggest you leave me the hell alone with that mess before you bite off more than you can chew.

I have a vicious streak that I'm not proud of, but it's a part of me. Provoked, I can be awful. I have a ridiculous sense of entitlement that completely goes against how I like to envision the world working. I was spoiled as a child...but I was also fat, and teased mercilessly. I've seen both sides of the coin, and I have exceeding sympathy for those who have to deal with the shit other people dump on them.

Thus...be my friend or leave me alone. I do better when I can do things my own way, and pretending to be my friend and making me feel obligations to you when you could care less is starting to annoy me. I'll show up and smile and shake your hand, but there's nothing beyond that.

It's just snow, blowing in every direction. I'm no more a solid friend to you than a snow drift. It's important to realize these things before you get seriously hurt.

-Jess

~everything I touch turns to shit, eveyone i try to love won't hear of it, now my hands are overfull with things i'd like to give, does anybody want it? does anybody want it? does anybody want me?/ i've been mapping it out, i dont know what wrong with me, but i wish that it was something else, I've been mapping it out, maybe you should find a girl who cares about herself, there's silence at the bottom of a bottle, ba bada da...there's silence at the bottom of a bottle, ba bada da.../~

Drinking Song- Jenny Owens Young

I Know I Can Love You Much Better Than This

I remember the first day I met you. You were so thin and small and incredibly nervous to be touched. Still, you let us play with you, and chased our tennis balls good naturedly, not expecting much.
I remember being so captivated with you, so impressed with your ability to soldier on. I remember the lady at the front desk speaking to my parents about having to take on the responsibility of you when Sean and I left the nest. I remember Mom crying - not because she couldn't have you like Dad thought, but because she didn't want us to leave the nest. We still haven't I guess. Ironic, that you'll be the first to truly leave.
I remember coming home to find that you had jumped from the second story to get to the backyard. I remember coming home to watch you after you were spayed, with your ginormous cone and shaved belly. You were a mess, wobbling all over the place. I remember our first winter with you, taking those pictures which to this day are some of my favorite of you.
I remember walking with you through the fields behind the elementary school, chasing mice through the snow. I remember wandering around at the cottage with you, content to chase seagulls from their midday perches for nothing more than laughs.
I remember watching you eat funny and pulling the porcupine quill out that Dad missed that one time you were silly enough to jump one. I remember the look you gave me, like pure gratitude.
I remember how you came with me to New Years eve once at Martha's apartment. I remember taking drives with you just to take drives with you. I remember waking up every morning in grade 12 and OAC to find you snuggled in behind my knees, preferring to sleep with me than go for early morning walks with Mom. (That always meant a lot to me, by the way. Thanks for loving me best sometimes.)
I remember having you over for sleepovers when I lived in Vanier, and how much safer you made me feel. I remember you not letting Dennis and Lyne into the house that one time because I was alone. I remember how you would bark like crazy anytime anyone came close to the house. Our own personal security system.
I remember how happy I was to see you when I got to Whitehorse. I remember how you launched yourself at me like you thought I had been gone forever, and suddenly by some luck, restored to you.
I remember taking you for long walks in Whitehorse and noticing how much you'd slowed down. I remember how I took you out to the sand dunes at the ski hill, and then on a whim we went to the world's smallest desert in Carcross. Just to say you had been. Just to show it to you.
I remember wanting to take you everywhere, and how jealous I was of Sean's friend who hadn't been seperated from his dog for more than 2 hours since she had been born.
I remember how safe I felt that night that I was so dizzy and sick that I had to nap in the car before we could go home. I knew you wouldn't let anything happen to me, I trust you with my life. And you held that trust sacred. You would have rathered died than not protect me, or anyone in the family. I know. I know there is someone behind those big brown eyes of yours. You understand maybe not the words, but the sentiments.
I am so grateful I insisted you come with us to Liard, and to Skaguay. I'm so glad we could have those moments together. I know I probably won't see you again, and if I do, you'll be sick and frail. I know. I know you were saying goodbye with every good natured sleep in the back of the car while I took you with me to almost everywhere I wanted to go. I know it was in all the snuggles and the times you would rest your head on my lap or shoulder. I'll never forget sleeping in the back of the truck, you sandwiched inbetween me and Mom. Hogging the blankets and all the heat. If I didn't undestand then, I do now. I know it's goodbye everytime you sleep in the bed I got you for last christmas. I know it's goodbye everytime I look at your pictures for just a little too long. It kills me that I won't be there for you like all the times you were there for me. It still grates that I wasn't there for Rufus in much the same way. I want nothing more than to throw all of these books and papers to the floor and pawn all I own to get on a plane and be with you for the next few weeks...months, however long you may have. But I can't baby girl. I can't.
If I do that, these past few hellish months will have been for naught. And I know you, you would want me to soldier on. Even if it hurts, and doesn't end up as planned, you would want me to try. You were always brave like that, not afraid to make yourself heard and felt.
I'm so sorry. I'm sorry we can't all be together, like we were in the beginning. I'm sorry that I won't be there to stroke your soft fur and snuggle you into me one last time. I remember that last sleep, how I didn't want to let you get up in morning. I didn't want to get back on the plane without you.
I'm sorry that I won't be able to soothe you at all in your last few weeks. I'm sorry because you mean so much to me and I can't even tell you. You've got all my secrets locked up in you. You've got all my fears and ambitions. You know more about me than any human, I'm willing to bet. And I'm so sorry. So sorry baby girl. You deserve so much better than this. I love you more than I can say, and I always will. We were equals, you and I. I'm going to miss you until the end of time. You made all my bad days bareable and my good days even better.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
I love you so much it hurts.
-Jess
"Dogs are my favorite people."- Richard Dean Anderson
"Dogs' lives are too short. Their only fault, really."-Agnes Sligh Turnbull
"The dog is a gentleman. I hope to go to his heaven, not man's."- Mark Twain

You can hear Happiness staggering on down the street

Crescendo

Is it really necessary?
I'm so sick and tired
of having the same conversation
three times daily.

Is it really that bad?
I'm so distracted-
from thought to thought
beautiful bursts of beginnings

Is it so soon?
It feels like no time
between then and now
but nothing is finished

Troubled by troubling
thoughts with no weight
I oscillate.
hate to love, and love to hate.

Is it so serious now?
Life is a game
If you think you are winning
you've just bought in.

-Jessica Leigh Dec 2007

Feeling Drops From my Fingers

There's never enough distance for me...
from me.
between heart and mind
some seperation would be key

Been so long since I thought
about my heart at all.
Out of sight
out of time,
out of rhythm
out of rhyme.

Non-existant until about
-oh a moment ago.
I worry about my head
like it controls the function
of an organ half-dead.

Resucitate!
Too late?

Blessed numbness
swallow me whole
blanket the faltering
of a trembling life
caught in the bass bomb
of a musical implosion

Dance to the remix
my heart creates
skipping, staccato, screeches
like a banshee,

Ghost of a warning.

-Jessica Leigh Dec 2007

And now, for some angst, courtesy of the 90's.

Shut the fuck up she said, I'm going fucking deaf, you're always too loud, everything's too loud, now that all my friends left, this place is fucking dead, I wanna move out, when can we move out? this shit has got to stop. I'll runaway! Get the fuck up she said, your life is meaningless, its going nowhere, you're going nowhere, you're just a fuck up she said, I'll live alone instead, she said you don't care, I know I don't care,
I'll never ask permission from you, fuck off I'm not listening to you, I'm not coming home, I'm never going to come back home
I've gotten too fucked up again, passed out on the plane tried to forget you, i can't forget you, no sleep on this flight, i'll think about the nights we had to get through, how did we get through?
I'll never ask permission from you, fuck off I'm not listening to you, I'm not coming home, I'm never going to come back home, I'll runaway
I think it's time that I should leave
i think it's time that I should leave
I think it's time that I should leave
i think it's time that I should leave
I think it's time that I should leave
I'll never ask permission from you, fuck off I'm not listening to you, I'm not coming home, I'm never going to come back home
I'll runaway!
i think it's time for me to leave
I'll runaway!
I think it's time for me to leave...

Shut Up - Blink 182

Change words, ch-change verbs

In honour of my dear friend Paul, who I miss greatly (because he makes me laugh almost more than anyone I've ever met...)
here are the top 10 things that I've done this weekend:

1) Friday I went over to Michee's house and we listened to the Sens game/painted x-mas presents/ took pictures which made me laugh to the point of almost crying. (see above)

2) Sat. I overslept...there was a showing at 10am and I didn't leave the house until 10:22am.
3) I went to walmart and got a couple x-mas presents...
4) watched documentaries pretty much for the rest of Sat.
5)went to Charles' almost strickly to listen to my Ipod on the bus. (well...and to see Charles.)
6) caught up on Paul's adventures in Seoul...laughed out loud a couple times, frightening and bewildering my cat.
7) Slept in till 1pm!
8) Going to hang out with Jamie in a little while - also a high point, havn't seen that boy in a couple weeks now.
9) Updated my itunes with over 700+ songs. (HA...that's only about a quarter of my music so far)
10) whatever else I've done, it's NOT been my 2 (late already) essays.

I'm taking procrastination to another level. I have an exam on tues that I need to do readings for, and at this rate...hmm...i'll have them done by thursday.
(insert hysertical laughter here)
oh boy.
-J

But I have the sense to recognize that I don't know how to let you go

Hold On
Hold on

Hold on to yourself
for this is gonna hurt like hell.
Hold on
Hold on to yourself.
You know that only time can tell
what is it in me that refuses to believe
this isn't easier than the real thing.
My love
you know that you're my best friend.
You know that I'd do anything for you
and my love
let nothing come between us
my love for you is strong and true.

Am I in heaven here or
am I...At the crossroads I am standing.
So now you're sleeping peaceful
I lie awake and pray
that you'll be strong tomorrow
and will see another day
and we will praise it
and love the light that brings a smile
across your face.

Oh god
if you're out there won't you hear me.
I know we're never talked before
and oh god
the man I love is leaving
won't you take him when he comes to your door.
Am I in heaven here or
am I in hell
at the crossroads I am standing.
So now you're sleeping peaceful
I lie awake and pray
that you'll be strong tomorrow
and we will see another day
and we will praise it
and love the light that brings a smile across your face

Hold on
hold on to yourself
for this is gonna hurt like hell.

I've Always Like the Man...

Shakespeare invented my name.

How cool is that??

What's the world's greatest playwright done for you lately?

-J

~look into your heart pretty baby, is it aching with some nameless need? Is something wrong and you can't put your finger on it? Right then...roll to me~

This is where it ends.

I've hit the fucking academic wall.
I have no motivation to do this now beside the quasi-fear of having to stick around for another year but really, honestly, what the fuck?
Who cares?
If someone walked up to me and said "I failed a course at school" it would have absolutely no effect on ME whatsoever.
Well, i might feel bad for you, cause it does suck, but it's not the end of the world. It doesn't define you as a person. If I've learned ANYTHING at all from all this reading that's been crammed down my throat, it's that you make you.
You decide what you will do, and what you won't do.
Sometimes those convictions get you martyred.
Sometimes those convictions get you glory.
The important thing is to have them.
So fuck school, man. (Well, not completely, cause as I've said before I like learning...probably more than is good for me. Like it interferes with my life, I get so wound up on some stuff.)
Fuck living my life in fear of getting an "F".
Einstein's parents thought he was retarded cause he didn't start talking until he was like, what, 6? And he changed the course of fucking history, he changed the way we look at the world.
Maybe it takes failure to achieve success. Much like you have no concept of happiness until you've suffered through despair.
So you know what? If my parents want to be upset about me failing something, let them. You be my guest worrying about that crap. If I disappoint you, or you feel like I've wasted your time and money then I'm genuinely sorry that your definition of education is so limited.
I honestly did not think I would arrive arrive at this point in my life.
I've got about 500 words to go and I'll finally be done and an essay that was due on Mon.
Another was due yesterday, and one today.
As of right now, none are completed.
AND I DON'T CARE.
hear me world?
I really don't. Life's too short to not do what moves you.
If felt so stifled for so long about being creative. Like it's not allowed cause it doesn't make money and it's so subjective.
Artist = Bum for so long in my mind, but slowly and surely that has been supplanted by Artist = hero.
Artists are the fucking heros of the world. People with vision and conviction, RESOLVE, to follow those visions come hell or high water.
They are the people who alter the course of lives.
So that's what I'm going to do.
I'm going to start encouraging myself to create something each day. Food, write something, take pictures, make a collage, something. Doesn't matter what. Just as long as it's something from ME.
Because I'm a reflection of YOU, and the past, and all the people who existed so I might exist.
And I absolutely refuse to not live my life to it's potential in their honour.
I refuse to allow myself to be marginalized. If you're publication doesn't want my writing, I'll send it elsewhere. If no one wants to publish it, I'll publish it myself if it comes to that.
If no one wants to take a chance on my concepts for books, then I'll create them myself. (How, I don't know, but I'll cross that bridge when I get there.)
I've accepted my singularity, and am resolved to enjoy it.
Essays are not what I love to create...but I will. Begrudingly, for now
Only a few more months of this yoke, and I can breath properly.
FUCK...I wish I could wander the world, cataloging everthing before it dissapears forever...seeing the remains of worlds that came thousands of years before. I want to know everything....everything. Being here, doing this seems so small. So miniscule to what could be done with this time.
Where's home when you need it?
-Jess

Please, please, please...just keep going.
It would be so nice to accomplish something instead of always leaving things half done.

~I don't buy everything I read, I havn't even read everything I've bought, I don't cry everytime I bleed, my eyes are dry but they're bloodshot, I have faith in medication, I believe in the prozac nation, you play doctor but I've lost patience, this is where it ends, this is where it ends/ Call the police and call the press, but please dear god don't tell my friends, this is where it ends, this is where it ends/ Where's my pride, where's my self esteem, and does it show in the drinks I've bought? I don't hide everytime I'm seen, but I try not to get caught, make excuses for behaviour, can my illness be my saviour? hid my heart while you still gave yours, this is where it ends, this is where it ends/ Call the police and call the press but please dear god don't tell my friends, this is where it ends, this is where it ends/ She says she wants to live in a movie, I say I want someone else to stand behind me and write it all down 'cause I can't be bothered doing it myself, and I don't want the responsability of proving it's importance...I have loved and I have waited, been picked up and been sedated, Mental health is overrated, This is where it ends, this is where it ends/ Call the police and call the press but please dear god don't tell my friends. This is where it ends. This is where it ends. ~

I want November back.

So, at the behest of others and my own lack of motivation to write on the topic of Rasselas & Gulliver's Travels : The differing approaches of authors on the subject of travel as a means to discovering good governance, of state and family as well as the individual...here I am.
Weeeeee.....
and thud.
How in the world am I going to write 8 pages on that by tomorrow?
How am I going to cite four secondary sources of scholarly integrity when I've not even finished reading one of the texts?
Am I the worst student ever, or typical?
The context of my life fascinates me, and I am sorry I will not be able to look back in a hundred years and judge objectively. What would an archeologist think of me and my patent lateness and procrastination? What would they think of my scattered essays? From A's to F's -the whole gamut encapsulated in my own varying interest in the subjects at hand.
Somedays I like being me.
Somedays not.
I'm so close to being done school I can taste it. My plans for afterwards have shifted again, as well. I think a year off of constant deadlines, pressure and expectations is needed.
I havn't had a solid year off school since I started and now is the time.
I'll use that time to focus on writing. I deserve some time to work on my craft, and not just stolen half hours inbetween lectures and studying. I mean serious, dedicated time spent on something which I want to earn my future living on. As well as time to indulge my other passions, namely photography.
Can't be all work and no play now, can I?
Except I have been lately. Time to pull up the proverbial boot straps again and buckle down.
Where does this resolve come from? Sometimes I think if I was a wiser person, I would understand more thoroughly that the opinion others hold of me means little in regard to the opinion I hold of myself.
What difference does a piece of paper saying you completed this schools requirments for graduation mean? There are thousands of people who drop out of school and go on to live successful, vibrant and influential lives.
But I have resolve, of my Celtic ancestors proportions. I've not put nearly 5 years of my life to bed for nothing. I will have a diploma.
And I like learning.
I would love to create documentaries later on in life.
They are perhaps one of the best tools of education that we have hit upon yet, in my opinion.
Visual messages are always more impactful. If one does not have a good imagination, one does not read. The scenes created within are too complex and diverse to be imagined by one with weak imagination. However, show someone what happened in history, or show someone how things are made, evolved, etc....and the idea takes root.
I love words, I love the sound and rhythm they create, and the freedom they empart.
But what of other languages? Am I to be denied understanding of certain places and cultures because I cannot speak and read the language native to the area?
That hardly seems fair, does it?
Thus...documentaries. Ah...the age of enlightenment is TRULY upon us.
It would be a hell of a lot more fun to do this essay if it could be done in video blog format.
But, those are the breaks, aren't they baby?
-Jessica Leigh 2007

~Told 'em I finished school and I started my own business/They said 'oh, you graduated?' Naw, I decided I was finished/ Chasing ya'll dreams and what you got planned/ Now I spit it so hot you got tanned/ Back to school and I hate it there, hate it there/ Everything I want I gotta wait a year, wait a year~

Or how about (F) You're a Gimp.

I am already caged
Let me be,
Society is a prison,
from which no one is free.


-Jessica Leigh 1998

Malfunctioning

Today I've been industrious. Somewhat. I feel lazy.
I've been doing my essay wrong. I need three outside sources. I've just been using the text since it was what I based my presentation on. Now I have to research the points I've already made and hope I can find quotes that will fit. Now I have to hand it in a day late. Now I'm late for work.
The things I have accomplished are outweighed by what I have not.
Part of me doesn't care.
I was up till 5am this morning.
I don't know why.
I wasn't doing work.
Somewhere inbetween sleeping and thinking.
I'm exhausted and angry with myself for allowing myself to be overwhelmed and procrastinate.
I know that sentence has all sorts of things wrong with it.
Part of me doesn't care.
It's only an essay.
It's only work.
It's only momentary panic.
These things too shall pass.
Life seems long from this perspective. In a few years, I will look back on my former self and laugh at my naivitee.
Still, I feel like my birthday was last week and it's almost part-way through November.
Time is funny like that. Fast, slow...stopping occasionally and passing in the blink of an eye. Can we control it? Or are we at the whim of Time?
If I fail my courses this semester and have to go back to school next year, will I *really* care past my initial upset?
I know I am capable of great things.
I do not need a piece of paper to tell me that I know my shit.
It's only that my view of the way things should be done differs from the Institution.
I am not a stickler for details like deadlines, MLA format and correct word selection.
If the idea is sound, what matters the execution? Does that somehow detract from the validity of the arguement?
So why do I still feel like a loser who can't do anything right?
Like I've let myself down for not finishing my work on time.
Society has trained me well.
Am I to live my life constantly ensconsed in guilt?
Sometimes I wish I was someone else.
Sometimes I could burst for being so happy to be me.
What are you doing to me, Life?
Listen, I like rollercoasters and all, but even I get sick from constantly spinning.
Stop.
Shower.
Go to work.
This is enough.
Enough.

It's been an A- type of day...

I love hockey.
I love the feel of ice under my blades, cleaving in two under my force. I love the feeling of wind on my face. I love the sound the ice makes as I glide along. I love the effortlessness of it, like walking or breathing. The feel of a stick in my hands; puck dancing along the ice at the slightest difference in pressure, is one I will cherish forever. The core of hockey is the heart of the people who play it. The people who love it.
I can't wait for winter. Crispy, sunny days when the world is white is what I pine for.
Hockey, winter...they're in my blood. Deeper than I had ever suspected. Integral to my definition of the world, my definition of myself.
Hockey has shaped my view of the world. In a way, it is an idealized world. Wrong-doers are punished, hard work rewarded, and fraternity and loyalty celebrated.
Winter has done much the same. Only the hardy survive winter. The change in seasons too, defines what a year is for me.

I wrote this last year, around this time, and promptly never bothered to look at it again. I read it again last night and think some parts of it are worth salvaging, but on the whole it seems garbled to me.

Blunt

"You don't deserve this anymore"
She yelled at the side of my face,
"I disagree" I said, as I walked on
She always felt a little out of place.

Her look was a little strange,
Too much here,
Not enough there,
And everyone always noticed
That nothing ever changed.

The best defence is a good offence,
or was it...
The best offence is a better defence?
Either way, you win.

You are the most offensive,
And always have the best defence-
Society Sucks! and so do you,
Every other male you've met.

What I am to you is not real,
The fabric of this friendship
Was worn a little thin
But no patches were applied...

Just pressure.

-Jessica Leigh Nov. 2006

~last night i saw the fireworks, the kind of pain that never hurts, the one you hate to love, who's made for you, another unsuspecting sunday afternoon...~

Reflections on Paradise Lost

Seek to turn things around,
profound sense of simian sin.
He knew humans thrilled at ego
but gave them one anyway.

Rubber-necks and lost spines;
easy way out is futile.
All the exits lead the same way,
through the house of mirrors and conscience.

Angelic powers, only show dungeons-
horrible responsability tethered
to unwilling will and lesser hope.
Drag the faces out of the light,

And show us all the dark you possess.

-Jessica Leigh P Oct 2007

Subtitles - Eric Hutchinson

These days i feel like i'm watching a movie, with subtitles only i can't read the words, you do your best to make sure i understand you, but these foreign topics always seem so absurd, and more and more i find i don't get the meaning, but i do appreciate your likeable appeal, you say your trying to drive us in the right direction but i get the feeling your falling asleep at the wheel,

so don't tell me you will when you know that you wont, don't say that you do when you know that you don't, cause the more that you give the less that i get, and the more that we share is the more i regret, cause i don't have much to believe in, that's why i'm always counting on you, i don't have much to believe in, but if i did you know i would in beautiful you...

these days i feel like i'm talking to no-one,...its cause i'm usually not, you keep pushing for a brand new begining, but you can't release me when i havn't been caught, you keep saying that i'm just getting stranger, that you dont even know what i stand for these days, i'd like to say dont worry, we'll get through it, but i get the feeling that this isn't just a phase,

so dont tell me to yell when you want me to whisper, dont spin the bottle if you don't want to kiss her, cause the closer we get, well the further i feel, and the less that we fake well the more that seems real, cause i don't have much to believe in, that's why i'm always counting on you, i don't have much to believe in, but if i did you know i'd be doing it for you...

On a day full of lectures...

I feel I am sitting in tapioca.

18th Century Literature

Empy room or empty head?
words flow like fancies; falling,
dripping from her rosebud lips
in accent so pleasing that
the sentences fragment themselves;
deconstruction by will, a first
in the autonomous life of words.

Nothing sticks inside
shiny, hardened void
where lectures go to die.
Nothing holds on like it should,
if there was any sense in anything
that i'm hearing from you -
which is to say, that you make sense
just not to me today.

Stop! Too much now,
the brain is full of logic
bashing into itself and shaking the reason loose.
Bah! It's gone now;
swimming in an imposible sea
from which my net only grasps
every other fish you throw in
But, that is enough to feed
myself, and you, and the others-
30 people in an emtpy room.

-Jessica Pumphrey Oct 2007

yeah, this one is not edited either. Feel free to go to town.

~everybodies on the food chain funny but from day to day we get from bottom to top and if you get lost you start over again but we don't ever get to stop~

Unedited Expulsion

Stress compounded into a thousand fiery parts
all moving like individual flames
can't just do it all once
burned over and over again

The earth revolves away
spinning my plans apart like matchsticks
can't catch them all today
regain composure at a later date.

Caught on my own tongue
like a shard of ice, melting
like my weekend, singed
to hell with no reprieve, first impressions last

By the skin of my teeth,
The knick of time,
The potential waits
in a maleable state.

-JessicaLeigh Oct. 2007

Insert pithy title here....

Here I am, typing away on my laptop. I'm missing classes today so I can finish my essay by 5pm. (And thus hand it in @ 5:30pm) One of my classes (Med. Lit) had a 'recitation' due today for 5 %. I was torn, because I'd rather not throw away 5% of my mark but this essay is worth 20%. I figured it was more important to do the essay. And I also feel crappy cause I've been missing a lot of classes in the last 3 weeks. I just don't have time to stay on top of everything! I'm going from deadline to deadline without a second to just breathe.
I have to leave the house for showings...last night I had to leave for 45mins in the middle of my essay...it's just getting ridiculous. If the house doesn't sell soon, I'm going to just move out I think and let my parents deal with it. I can't live like this much longer.
GAH...now it's almost noon and I have 4 pages left...I have to have a shower...and get down to Chuckles' to pick up before 5pm.
Sometimes I would give anything to just move the hell out into the country, do my work by proxy and grow plants like they were my babies. That would be my life and I would LOVE it. No deadlines, no harrasment, no people showing up without calling...it would be awesome.
Sometimes I think I'm fundamentally different from most people. I could easily live by myself...in fact I strongly suspect I will be alone for the majority of my life. My friends include me in large group activities sometimes...but sometimes when they all go out for dinner or to a movie my invite gets lost in the mail. When there's an adventure to be had, (Let's drive up to the cottage for lunch today! or...Let's have breakfast at the sugar bush!) my name rarely comes up as companion. As well, my circle of friends is limited to maybe 6-7 people. I played hockey like it was my religion and made my teamates my friends. When the team was split up, I lost a lot of friends. And by dint of being at hockey so much, my high school friends didn't see me as much as I would have liked. They stopped inviting me to things, assuming I would be at hockey. And to top it all off, I moved a lot when I was a kid. This is my 11th house in my 23 years. Never stayed in one place long enough to make any good, solid friendships. And after moving so much and meeting so many shallow, self-absorbed people, my tendency is not to seek out friendships. I've had too many that go nowhere and drop off at the first sign of change. I guess that would qualify me for 'Trust Issues', but I firmly believe that it's not all on me. I can only learn what I am taught.
As for a love life, non-existant would be the most approriate term. Never had a boyfriend, never been romanced or wanted. No man has shown the least amount of interest in me, and by that judgement I must accept that I am either fated to be alone, or hideously ugly. Or both, but that would be a severe blow indeed.
That being said, I must confess that I'm rarely impressed with males anyways. Insensitive, brash, rude, and generally not overly quick on the uptake. Younger women annoy me, with their pettiness and falsities. Anyone who adpots the attitude that they are better than others needs a swift readjustment curtesy of my foot.
And now I'm sick. My nose is so sore I can barely blow it anymore and so exceedingly dry that even Aloe Vera isn't doing anything.
If these are my trials and tribulations, then the reward for perserverance better be good, God. That's all I can say on this subject right now. I am exhausted and stressed. Time to return to the essay.
-J
~ok is alright with me, somethings are just meant to be, it never comes easily, and when it does i'm already gone, i'm practically never still, more likely to move until i end up alone at will, my life continues inching along...~

She doesn't care how she gets there, long as she gets somewhere...

what a day...

I miss my class, and my meeting with my prof...the patio in the backyard is now in though, and work was sort of ho-hum. Now I'd like to go see my cousin's new apartment, but her brother, my other cousin, has jumped ship and unreachable. Now instead of getting a ride, I must get back on the bus from whence I came not 2 hours ago, and retrace my steps downtown and try to find her place alone. Tomorrow I am supposed to be going to Montebello for my grandparents 50th, but I can't find anyone who can house sit from 9am-5pm so the chimney inspector can come in. The property manager conveniently scheduled this activity for the same day as my grandparents' shindig, and I've been so ridiculously all over the place that I haven't had time to call anyone until today. Now everyone either has plans for the weekend or can't commit to sitting here for 8 hours while waiting for the inspector to show up.
Not a promising start to the weekend.

I hate to disappoint my grandparents, but I suppose that's what happens when everyone makes plans and no one asks if the plans are good for everyone involved. I was never asked by the property manager if this was a good day for me...and neither by my grandmother. So now I'm caught in the middle and if I don't have someone here for the inspector, I have to pay out of my own pocket to get someone back to check everything. So, naturally, I'm going to do what costs me less, right? I don't know...I hate to bail on my family. And I dislike the property manager with an intensity that borders on insanity. I loose all good judgement as soon as he sticks his nose into our affairs and just want to scream in his crotchety old man face. So giving him a key, like he suggests, is not really an option for me. Unless by 'give him a key' he means some sort of assasination attempt, which seems unlikely even to me.

As for right now...another dilemma. Do I wait for my cousin who must be showing up at some point, even if just to collect his belongings...or do I take a bus down to my other cousin's and not bother waiting any longer? OR...now that my friend J--- has called, do I hang out with him and wait for my cousin? Do I invite him to my cousin's apartment soiree? What the hell do I do in this social position? How do I get myself into these situations? And how in the world am I to get myself out again? Ok...maybe I should call A---- at her apartment and see what she thinks...if she'll miss me if I don't go.

So...my cousin called to say he was having a shower and then he'd be on his way...45 minutes later...and I'm all dressed up, with somewhere to go...still waiting.

I might as well check the smoke alarms if I've got nothing else to occupy me.

Can't Control It, Try As I Might...

It's raining. It's been raining for hours. It rained all through the night, the sharp retort of each drop exploding upon impact echoing in my room like a sad refrain. Rain is a curious thing...it can alternately make one feel depressed and despondent, or cozy and secure. As with all things, it depends on your point of view. Those trudging through the rain getting soaked to the bone will probably attest that there is little worse in terms of inclement weather. Those curled up under a blanket on a sofa, reading whilst the rain flings itself at window panes fruitlessly probably have a different view on the whole situation.

It's 11:30am as I write this. I have an hour until I am supposed to leave to attend class. I can't help wanting to stay home today. The rain has made me lazy and a little sad. Grey skies always have an oppressive feeling about them. Elton has just walked across the bed to curl up against my leg and that too, makes me want to stay. His warm, little, fuzzy body melts my resolve to get up and shower like a heat lamp over an ice cube. I would be content to lay here and read with him curled up at my side all day.

Every time a day like this comes up, the temptation to stay home and read becomes overwhelming. To just skip out on classes and read under a warm blanket, drinking coffee all day in my pajamas while the rain punishes those foolish enough to venture outside. I live for days like that...but the mental dilemma I go through every time is almost enough to push me to my feet and get me moving.

Don't get me wrong, I love learning...I love school. I love reading and discussing my ideas with my peers. It's the physical reality of sitting in a classroom for hours that irks me. I become easily bored in that setting...my mind wanders. Sometimes I read ahead in our work. But more often than not, large parts of the lecture escape me. Is it worth going to a lecture when you only absorb half of it?

And then my reason says "yes, of course it is. If you can't take away everything from the lecture, at least you got something from it. And really, you have missed enough classes already, haven't you? This could be the day they get the material for the midterm, would you like to miss that?"

And I can only admit that missing the material for the midterm would be a hard blow indeed, and put me quite behind. So then I feel compelled to check my syllabus to make sure that the midterm is not for at least a week yet. Having done that, I feel more confident in my decision to skip the class. And if I am going to skip that class, then I might as well skip the one directly after it. Since my final class of the day does not start until 5:30pm, and the last class before it ends at 4pm, it makes little sense to go for one class, wait around for an hour and a half, and then sit through a 3 hour class.

But then my reason pipes up again "But think of your attendance marks! You will be throwing away a free 5%! This could be the difference between a C+ and a B! You have not been to one 17th C Lit class ALL WEEK. You missed his class yesterday and now you are going to skip the majority of of classes today?? How hard is it to get on a bus and sit in a room quietly?!"

Sometimes I wonder if everyone has these little mental moral battles. Should I go to class when I do not feel like being there? Should I do what would make me happy? Is staying home to read a valid reason for missing class? If I have no time to do my readings on the weekend on account of my parents not taking my schedule into consideration, does that make it more acceptable? How come staying home to do work for school feels like I'm not doing anything at all, and simply blowing a day? How can I be studious and frivolous at the same time? The drudgery of my day to day routine is wearing me thin. I begin to rationalize.
"I need a day to myself. I haven't had a day to myself in a while, where I've done nothing but read and get caught up on school work. My weekends have all been dedicated to straightening the house up for showings and seeing family and friends...there has been no time for reading the past few weekends. " Although I know full well I did nothing on Monday, the thanksgiving holiday. Little reading was accomplished...but the rationalizing continues unabated.
"That was a holiday. That was a day of rest and relaxation, not a day of school work or house work. This will be your school work day."

Am I insane? Do other people have these conversations with themselves? Talk themselves in to and out of various situations and responsibilities? Give themselves anxiety attacks over their own disapproval? Sometimes I wonder, man...what the hell is wrong with me? How come nothing is ever easy with me? Everything in my life is a struggle...even my own mental faculties are divided and set against each other.

I am resolved to be bold. I will make a stand against this mental tyranny I have over myself. I will NOT be attending classes today,and I will devote myself to following my initial whim. I will stay home and read. And possibly get a hold of some Mary-Jane and shut my inner monologue up for an hour or so at a time. Will I be rewarded for this impulsive decision or punished? Time will tell me what I cannot know right now. Hopefully, my Profs will not find enough fault with my absence to fail me. (I doubt it...although...oh, do shut up! No more bantering! I will hear no more arguments today.)

~Tomorrow comes, sorrow becomes his soulmate, the damage is done, the prodigal son is too late, all the doors are closed but he's always open, to anytime in his mind...~

Inaugural Post

So here's the deal. I've got to stop fucking around and get some writing done. If I want this half as bad as I claim, then there's going to have to be some changes made around here. And by around here, I literally mean here, as I'm in the process of moving.

I say I want to write, but no time seems to be devoted to doing any writing of my own. All I do is enviously read other's masterpieces. This will change.


Not to alarm anyone, but I mean now. This instant.

I'm tired of sitting and waiting for others to decide what is best for me. I want this, it is within my grasp and I'll be damned if I am the reason I don't get anywhere with my writing.

So. Here I am. Intimidated but exhilirated all the same. The goal? To write in here at least once a day, if not more. Thoughts, poems, rants, whatever comes to mind but it must be honest and true to me as an individual and as an artist. Cheap, petty thoughts shall not traverse these sanctified...pages. Sorta. Fuck.

With this in mind, I shall return to Gulliver's Travels.