march 31, 1997.
my episodic privacy allows me several moments of reflection, per day. the java which i brewed permits a clarity of thought early in the day. recluse from the snow that falls, solace from a life that calls me, when i sit here in this place, amongst friends who let me trace the lines of my mind, i can see clearly now at least my own thoughts.
what would phyllis tell me now?
i think i know.
broad statement #1:
broad statements about life are becoming fewer and farther between.
what broad statement could possibly sum up L's sad view? which sweeping ideology could ever explain the differences in how we see
the world, ourselves and life?
wondering where the story is, the one i wrote for Michael Godfrey in college. about lauren and returning from california, funny, really, that i've lost it...
and so march ends as more snow falls. what else ends now?
what begins? we wish we knew.
march 30, 1997.
most are not here this weekend. most are out and about, eating
and visiting, celebrating, traveling, liberating. 'we' are very much
here. although in another sense we are not. the powers that be
have invited us south, and so 'we' have things to do. here, this
useful place, where we can learn about a foreign place, talk to
foreigners, send cvs in 'resumix' format, read about work permits
and free trade agreements, and read about the population of that
place in excruciating detail ... how can anyone possibly say this
place is not useful, a comfort? my only conclusion (and how easy
it is to write it here) is that they simply do not know. i can wonder
that perhaps, perhaps, i am no longer able to see it as they do.
i can wonder, maybe, maybe they do not need these things, the
information i find here. perhaps their lives are content, rounded,
complete even, without need ... for more ... for more in this way ...
*hop* [that was me, getting off the soap box.]
gray outside, very little like an ideal Easter. But the spirit of Easter
is within, within us. instead of sitting around insulting people's beliefs,
let's just say that if we could each see it as a time of rebirth, on the inside as well as on the outside, no matter what the weather ... use it for what you will, for what you need it for, for what strengthens you ...that is all they ever did you know ... i always thought they had some kind of magical formula, that they used their beliefs for something deeper, that the intentions were somehow better ... but it's not true. if we were all believers you'd be surprised at what we would pray for. i do believe. i do believe that the intentions are very similar. the good is still there. the spirit of rebirth, of valuing life and love above all. if not, we wouldn't be making movies like the Lion King.
march 28, 1997.
when you truly live by the perception
rule, you can accept everyone.
you'll never understand everyone, but you may learn to accept them.
there is a reason for everything. a reason you may exclude people
and a reason you may include them. i'll bet that their reasons for
being the way they are that causes you to exclude them, is more
valid than the reason you exclude them. i'll bet on this theory 99%
of the time.
dancing in a suburban bar. chatting with
the locals. shooting some pool.
and...sitting in a large wooden place of worship, singing, yes, praying.
thinking about perceptions, perceptions in that place, perceptions which
prevent people from living their lives and the perceptions that cause
others to do so. all we have is perception. let things be what you want them to be. don't let them tell you. go back and reminisce, put other faces there, other names, and let yourself know that nothing has changed. give yourself at least the freedom of perception. there is no reality.
let the music take you.
let the lyrics bring you.
let the melody haunt you.
march 27, 1997.
i said the focus would come and it did, as usual, in the decarie.
fantasy. learning the difference between things that i want to happen, wish one day to happen, and fantasy. just now learning the difference. does everyone have these thoughts? does everyone have fantasies that they want to happen and fantasies they don't want to happen? is this the difference or are they called two different things? so i'm thinking about the difference between my 'fantasies' (i'll call these things that are real fantasies) and between the things that are not fantasies, but things that given the (highly unlikely) situation, I would want to happen. and so. this brings me to other people. i often assume that i'm thinking more complex things than others. why wouldn't i? i can't think their complex thoughts…what i see on the outside is simple. or simplified? (this is the key of course) i have no way of being in their complicated thoughts so it's so easy to assume they don't have any. so i try to come up with a few people and try to think if they possibly have fantasies like i do. then i conclude, from what i hear them say, see them do, no. most people probably don't. society tells us that these things are 'bad' although our therapists know the difference. know that they can be healthy. but then again if you are like me you make your own judgements about what is healthy for you, so you don't really care who thinks it's heathy or not, you just do it and assume that if you lead a normal life you're oK. so i shouldn't be assuming that other people's thoughts are simple. why. because it leaves me bored that's why. if i could assume that other people are thinking more complex thoughts (which is perhaps what G thinks in asking me tons of questions) then i will ask them things, questions, and learn. or will i? ok ok lets assume i will. in any case it gets annoying trying to remember whether or not i should go around assuming people are simpler or more complicated than what i know. it's not a judgment call, i'd just like to know. why do i want to know? because I like things to be simplified. what a contradiction in terms. i want to know if people are simpler or more complicated to simplify things. what? so. next subject. this led me to: you see the more i write here, the more i learn, and the less i have to write. i mean, if you're a fool you babble on assuming that everyone wants to know everything about your life. if you have some intelligence then you try to write what people would be interested in reading, what will stimulate them what will stimulate you. but then the more you learn, the more you learn that most people aren't interested in much of that. so you start trying hard to write what's interesting, what's intelligent. this brings about writers block and you start to write stuff you think is real junk, just for the sake of it. But! as we said, you learn along the way and this knowledge leads to your ability to write about new ideas. Like now. So, then you write more. and this is another example of how there is a time for everything. the waxing and waning. the circular nature of things.
everything has it. don't be afraid of it. accept it into your life.
is this what they meant all along?
the natural rhythm of life and accepting the highs with the lows?
if you accept it then it makes sense.
with that comes a certain inner peace.
bring it with you where you go, and it will serve you.
It has until now. Eventually, you will have more things to write.
one last thing, on the question of who we write for?
well we cannot write in a vacuum so not ultimately, we write for you. and as with everything else, ultimately, we write for ourselves. amen.
now THATS stream of consciousness!
the bio is here
march 26, 1997
a bit revitalized today by a good movie and sleep. probably still with bags under my eyes i will rush to work a bit late. so the thing won for a darn good reason i think. i'm still dancing to that music and cannot get those incredible accents out of my ears. i resisted the tears but they'll come, they'll come.
banter banter. click click.
8:22 now. coughing. later. rush rush. no stay. no rush. stay go stay
my car broke down. um, emergency dentist appointment. um, taxes, taxes, yeah that's the ticket. taxes. gotta bring my taxes in.
trying to think clearly however my brain is fuzzy. neuronal networks paths all crossing and not leaving me the energy to focus. it's like trying to focus on something that's out of focus. despite the caffeine. my waywardness comes through here as you can tell no real emotions are being writ. will focus later.
march 25, 1997
bugs bunny on my banana, is nothing sacred?
don't believe me? take a look next time.
there seems to be lots of sleeping problems these days...people tired yesterday for no apparent reason...waking in the middle of the night...
it's kind of annoying, actually, that we won't have the luxury to look back on our turn of the century, our epoch, and have some insight into what it must be like to live now. we'll never have the chance to see ourselves as romantic, if berdj is in fact right. i am wondering what the effects are, what are the changes going on around us that are making us something we will never be able to see? is it the speeding technology, the return of tap dance? Is it the lack of American rock groups, the ability to connect to the world? The popularity of the concept of' spirituality, or the mere fact that women are still wearing pink?
even television sitcoms are different, says she.
i've a wishbone to pick...
i think often of the concept of someone
being the 'wind beneath my wings'.
without realizing why, this idea annoyed me. i have now figured out why.
it is not wind beneath wings which propels a winged thing, it is air. if it is wind which is under the wings, then the thing is not flying. if they refer to the wind which flying creates, then it's not much of a statement, now is it? Or, maybe I just hate the song. why are they playing it so much these days?
and, the Grammies goes to... harrison says that there should be no need, but every metier gives awards...it is human nature to want to identify the commonly-thought best, no? it does not have to take away from our understanding of what we watch, but gives a bit of respite from the constant bombardment. ok ok, perhaps it is a bombardment of the grandest kind, and may actually be it's sole reason for survival, but it still serves a purpose, and not only that, but the purpose it sets out to serve. there's beauty in just that.
march 24, 1997
no theme dinner this year. how did it get to be march? but it's too cold.
skating. some of them were great, but, the arm movements are getting worse. am i the only one who notices this? am i wrong? what would the judges think if i went out there, taught them how to move their arms, and then they re-judged them? yeah i know things change but proper arm movement hasn't. it just looks better. you don't see them skating around with their legs all bent out of shape, so why do we put up with arms bent out of shape? ok ok so they are the best in the world, wow. arguing with the best in the world. (roll eyes now)
excited about life today but not about returning to work. want to continue squirming for a while. the cold probably not helping any. what am i creating these days? things i guess. tell me what. i don't know. chicken lasagna?
how about friendships? yeah, those too. glad to do it. just need some rest.
hey, look at that! the girl over my left shoulder has
bags under her eyes.
well what do you know, she is tired. *ding!* diagnosis complete and coming soon to a theatre near you, feeling better because she knows why she feels this way. monday morning fatigue, not good, not good. oh well just accept it.
rant rant rant. no wonder people are so depressed. if they are always this tired (and they are probably usually several times this tired) no wonder. what a miserable feeling. then you get used to it. then people like me write about you in their online diary. maybe that's America's biggest problem then. They don't discuss it much do they? Why cause if everyone spent more time trying to not get tired then they wouldn't be consuming, producing, building the empire? i wonder, ... how much of an effect does fatigue have on heart disease?
tonight i will get some rest.
march 23, 1997
"whoooa, I'm Canadian,
i was born Canadian,
i'm a squeegee-punk in L.A"
laughter fills the room. through an electronic box, gentle picking comes.
the meal served, the bottles open, they exchange words which arise from
the perception they hold of the world. some feelings are hurt, some egos dented. the perceptions distort. the world changes. the laughter trickles back...
overheard at a webgrrls meeting:
"how come you never mention your boyfriend?
well, i guess i just feel that using certain terminology in public
lends itself to creating images of me that are not always accurate.
put it this way, if i found out that you were attracted to me,
i would probably be very interested in you.
"but i'm not gay.
neither am i."
march 22, 1997
no recluse, now. can you entertain yourself?
i bought a font.
there we were, again in that place. the carpet buckled everywhere and inebriated souls tried their best to navigate it. the unknowing ones launched themselves into a bit of sobering embarassment just to get to the washroom. there was a lineup for the payphone, and someone's mother poured beer into plastic cups.
we couldn't dance, but avoiding the bodies being propelled here and there may have constituted a type of jig. also, it may be debated, but one would most likely be safe to say that no one in that place was discussing Rachmaninov.
march 21, 1997
"once the story's told...it can't help but grow old..."
more and more, i am thinking how nice it must be to fall in love with
while others let me have a bit more insight into what it is like looking at women, calling them cute.nice.smart.georgeous. how could they know that i too, enjoy their descriptions, the peep-hole that is their view of the opposite sex. yes, it's a peep hole. maybe that's just it, the mystery. being able to see someone as something unknown? or perhaps, being able to see myself as mysterious...something to 'uncover' to explore ... was there a time when i would have been jealous? i don't even remember, now.
and all these capped men, boys? i couldn't help but wonder why they would rather stand around a foozball machine swearing at each other, than spend time with a girl? yikes, pretty bad huh? am i a fool or just romantic? because if they were sitting in the library reading up on their eighteenth century history, i would have thought they were amazing ... and the stupid part; i really have nothing against foozball ... especially after a good round of pool and a few beers ...
i guess the mystery goes both ways.
That said, aside from the weighted gut, blurry vision, and muck-mouth,
i do feel the springishness in the atmosphere.
it's bright out, and i too, feel bright.
the beef stock made, the kitchen clean, the weekend upon us,
things feel comfortable. tears shed - "my true companion" sleeps,
and i will go and kiss his pretty forehead, for all of us.
march 20, 1997
spring is here. lets hope someone tells it.
my reference systems work. i keep lots of stuff (read:papers) and i can find some of them when i go looking...except of course the ones that really matter. internet telephony, i find. favorite recipe for tiramisu, know exactly where it is. photograph of myself from 12 years back lost in a pile, no prob. but. T4s? uhh... lease? uhhh... divorce papers? (big) uhhhh ...
digging out an (obviously lost) set of keys from the ice on the street in front of the building, just before the snow removal crew craped it into oblivion, i thought about the remnants of today which will be left unearthed. where will this box end up? my favorite mug...will it decay into the soil it came from and become a new generation? and the plethora of other undecomposables (i.e.inorganics), what will happen to them? will solutions be found or are we destined to ship them to Mars? what is each of us doing about this? is there anything we can do?
and so i dreamt about some guy whom we hadn't seen in 20 years
who is now some bigtime drug dealer driving a brand new red volvo
station wagan. he didn't look the same at all and during the dream i
had flashbacks into the past when he used to beat his girlfriend.
sore teeth and throat now. the sailor scouts will be so pleased with
their glossies. and me? am i pleased? are you sick of reflection?
ok let's talk about you for a second. what pleases you? what have you
produced? are the two one and the same or are you pleased by other things? does your memory of the past stimulate or haunt you? understanding those who tell me the latter is difficult for me. having
spent at least ten years learning to give up my wonderful past and accept the beautiful era that is now, i still can only see the present as a time which i will one day see again as wonderful...
living in the moment, yeah, hard. leo B said "don't live for the moment, live the moment" There's a BIG difference. i can't tell you what it is, but i'm sure there is one. running from work to daycare to the restaurant, i would imagine that living the moment is nearly impossible for most, but there is no time like the present to try.
speaking of daycare, watched a rope-train of two-year-olds going up the street yesterday, jumping in unison every so often, bundled but rosy cheeked, being coaxed along by a miserable looking woman. the children stared at me as i sat at the light, watching them in wonder. and as i stared, bewildered and slowly becoming horrified at the thought of children spending each day with a miserable stranger, the one who was looking at me spoke: 'i know why you stare, but it's not that bad, really. we don't know the difference ... this is our reality, and we accept it. we like to be with our friends all day long - and her, well don't worry about her, she's not as bad as she looks..."
"so we've come full circle to my 'artsy farsty' side. maybe it's not a side at all. i really and truly believe that i am something else, and i think you do, too." [me, 1993]
that i shall not fly
that i shall not wander
that i am yours.
it's important to be me, and to be braced too.
there's a delicate balance between knowing who i am, and letting someone else tell me who i am. the give and take that is life can only be perfect, if it is there to be shared. i have no desire to live in a vacuum, even if under exculsively my conditions.
to shorten a distance
between two seems futile
when dealing with miles
to bridge a gap,
overcoming slight barriers
may prove quite precarious
to know how to love
and to want to share
may be all that's really there
it may not seem fair
this want may be strong
and though forces may scatter
the thought of the bridging
is all that may matter.
Ahh, the days when we could ask: "Will you still love me, tomorrow..."
march 17, 1997
G was pleased that i posted our conversation.
today. with a cold that i am enjoying, it making me feel a bit
more alive, a bit more like 'someone with a cold'...
the sniffling and the sneezing are cleansing, actually
and my funny voice? i'm enjoying that, too.
defending the terrible weather, it's not so terrible-
Ok, so we've had dumpings and dumpings ... how long
will i try to convince them it's romantic? how can i get that
feeling into their hearts? seeing it from the time you didn't
complain about it...seeing it from the point of view of someone
who's never seen it before? why is it so hard to change people's
point of view? did i say something to piss everyone off???
are men immature? aren't we all?
march 16, 1997.
i don't expect you to get it. only to think about what you do get. how much do we really get each other anyway? i think not much. using words and common objects, we've worked out a world where we think we understand one another most of the time. i'm more interested in that world where none of these tools exist. the world where we look at each other and see not familiar faces adorned with lip gloss and tie-clips, but eyes that expose our souls, and smiles that crucify our hearts. to see the unchartered territory that is each other's viewpoint, the expanse of potential emotions which each person harbors. i just care how, not what. why, not when. if this is true, perhaps i'll never know what i am, afterall ... perhaps i don't really want to know...
March 15th, still.
enough green already, i'm not even Irish. yawning.
at this time, i am reminded for some reason of the following passage;
"It is at these times that we need beauty most. Beauty is peaceful, private, and complete acceptance. It is a longing to experience, not own; a need to touch, yet not to overcome; it is the hope that things will not change, not the fear knowing that it may. Beauty is what makes your soul smile, what lets you know that you are the only one who may percieve it as so. Beauty asks you to keep things."