Pink Floyd

I remember that pale boy in grade 7 that I had a crush on.

The long blond hair, green eyes and quiet Kurt Cobain mystique were his trademarks; what I remember about him most.

I thought of him on Tuesday while driving home past midnight.

Pink Floyd playing on the radio, it made me think of Lee who used to wear this black Pink Floyd shirt all the time.

I wrote him a letter once.

An anonymous one.

He wasn’t supposed to read it but somehow it ended up in his hands.

I never did talk to him.

Ever.

I was a shy girl.

I still am to this day.

Hearing that song playing on the radio momentarily brought back all that 7th grade anxiety and insecurity.

It brought back the embarrassment of having him read my letter and the wonder at never knowing what ever happened to him once we left elementary school and what he might be up to now?

fail me not

The air is frigid and the air that fills my lungs is pure.
Oh how I long to be where there is no sound of rushing cars – no sirens, no alarms.
I long for the tranquility of the ocean.
Its mysterious dark blue depths call to me, offering me a safe haven.
I long for the mountains majestic rising like offerings to the heavens.
The vastness of the sky stretches on eternally and I feel small and insignificant in comparison.

The wind greedily blows, lapping at my face and hair, hungrily, and then all is still.
I hear and see ice caving off the cliffs of the glacier up ahead, thunderous.

It's as though I was born for this moment.

raw pieces

I breathe in. I feel alive. The sun is brilliant in the sky. The snow crunches beneath my feet as I walk toward no destination in particular. I just needed to get away. Far from the confinement of my grey-walled cage where the air is poor and work slow this day.

Crunch crunch. The sounds of eating raw vegetables. Raw.

Waves of apathy wash over me as I rinse soapy plates in the sink.

In the background, the faint sounds of ice dancing music and I try to watch some of the couples as I continue my mundane task. It is late and I’m tired.

I try to do the right thing but it would seem I always come up a tad short. Like I’ve almost completed a puzzle and I take a step back to admire my work, and about 20 pieces are missing. The picture isn’t complete and I can’t figure out where those pieces went missing. Did I throw them out by accident? Perhaps, they got mixed up in another puzzle box. It frustrates me and no matter how hard I try, with every puzzle, there are always missing pieces. Is this resulting from lack of wisdom? Did I do it on purpose without even noticing? I don’t get it.

Crunch crunch. I’m already sick of celery but I’m also sick of having to buy new jeans.

I work better in the morning. Or how about not at all?

seriously addicted to cookies

milk and oreos do not a great supper make; though oreos do contain a significant amount of iron...


// love!

It's been a long time since I...

was last in touch with this collection of words.

Like the miniature metal box I treasure as a keepsake from my childhood (don't even know where it came from, to be honest), which I re-discover once in a blue moon while cleaning out my closet, I feel like I've discovered virtual "gold".

Thought for sure I had forever lost this account; having had the email account I signed up for this blog with deactivated and deleted.

Let's just say that it's been a challenge to integrate this old golden keepsake of mine with my personal present "mine" in order to expose new nuggets that may or not be fool's gold...

I will not let this miniature metal box go again; not if I can help it anyhow.

Though, I've heard it said that: "Nothing gold can stay"...

Hope remains to light the way.

flesh and blood is weak and frail

it's been a long time since i last wrote, but sometimes, one just has to write. i've been doing a lot of that lately, but moreso on paper than typed up until now. it is odd. these phases that i go through. writing ceaselessly. then reading unsatiably. then delving into music wholeheartedly. like a compulsion, i dive into a medium of expression, exhaust it completely and then move on to the next type in order to avoid something.

but what? and why? to forget what i know. to forget what i've seen. to forget how it feels to feel, as a consequence of what i know and have seen. is there a healthy way of coping with pain?

some of my thoughts are so redundant. i am unoriginal. there is nothing new under the sun. vanity, vanity. all is vanity. is this the case? truly? what has been will be again. no, there is nothing new. everything that has been, will repeat itself. i make the same mistakes over and over again. will i ever learn? do i even want to learn from my mistakes? why do i long for the things i cannot have. pinning for what cannot rightfully be mine. scheming elaborate plans and tactics in order to get closer to what is pushing me further and further away. magnets with same charges likewise reject one another, hard as you may try to unite them. they will never be together. they will be forever seperated. a solution? demagnetizing one or the other and even then, where there is no charge, there is still no connection. lose lose situation. memories of me will seem more like bad dreams. just a series of blurs, like i never occured. someday... someday...

why do i always seem to write more when i'm depressed?

and it's depressing. not always. just now. i'm not suffering from depression. no. i am rather in a conscious state of depression. i am not suffering in the process. it is merely my present companion. Sorrow of the heart, meet me at night when i cannot sleep soundly. where i lie questioning life and the reasons why. why we must suffer. why i feel pain. why i seek to alleviate pain. where i find my solace. in a voice. in a gaze. i know it still holds caring. Sorrow of the soul, for now, i greet you. we have become closely knit these past few weeks. but i know. we won't last long, your negative has attracted my positive. however, because of your strong charge, i am slowly being demagnetized. verily, soon i will be as negative as you. thus, problem solved. we will be repulsed by one another (being of likewise charge, naturally) and i will cling to the positive instead, forfeiting my former bond with you. until then, hold me and comfort me when all else is unstable.

ever feel...

put on whatever makes you attractive.

if it's not you, then do it for the sake of fashion.

if your friends like a certain you, that's who you have to be.
[ When They Really Get To Know You, They Will Run - Pedro the Lion ]

It's such a great song. I haven't listened to it in a while but the lyrics came to mind suddenly, just like that. I talked on the phone for a long time today. It was good to catch up with old friends. I've felt so isolated the last few days. I also received an adorable "snail" in the mail. It really is a cutout snail made from foam send to me with an enveloppe attached to it by a friend of mine out west. Well. It's true enough and redundant but I hate physics. I'm just barely passing that class and it's so upsetting to me. I am trying to understand it all but I just don't get it. I don't get it at all. Anyway, I've been swimming a lot lately which is lovely. I love the water. Thanks, God, for making water.

You know? Sometimes you think you have certain things figured out but you really don't have a clue. And all along, you were deceiving yourself because what you thought was truth, was really illusion. Take physics for example. If you have a question on your assignment that you're sure you've gotten right. And you're so smug and certain of yourself that finally, the pieces fit together and you've got an answer that looks good (when all of your other answers seem like crap and give you the impression that you're going to fail for sure). You hand in your paper and the Teacher, who wrote the assignment, marks it wrong. You learn a lesson in vulnerability. Don't be smug. Don't overanalyze because sometimes you make the problem out to be more complicated than it really is. So what can you do? Do your best, I guess... and try not to fail the class. Work harder next time. Learn from your mistakes. Don't dwell on them but gain from them, moving on toward new concepts. Oh yeah, and don't understimate yourself either. Because although you may not get an A or even a C-... you still passed, even if barely... which is better than getting a zero for not even trying. You didn't fail. You thrived in spite of discouragement, mixed emotions, and confusion. I didn't waste my time. I gained from the experience. What did I have to lose? Maybe everything... or maybe nothing at all.

Afterall, it's just physics... right?

i hate physics...

vient le beau temps!

hello, sunshine! What a joy it is to have a day off to sit and soak up the sun. No one is home and that makes it even more cherishable. I passed my midterm after all!! Fortune smiles upon me. The teacher was very generous, in my opinion. I should have failed. That teacher is something else altogether, let me tell you. He's cute in his own way. When he starts the class, his shirt is all tucked in nicely but after about an hour and a half it's only partially tucked into his pants and by the end of the class, his shirt tails are all untucked and wrinkled. It's amusing. He really does enjoy teaching though. I can't stand that class but to witness his lectures about soundwaves and dBs makes it a little more tolerable. Ugh. I could never become an engineer. Anyway, now I should be doing my assignment for that very class... but it's just so nice out... How could I waste such a perfect day inside in front of a computer screen?? (this writing doesn't count... I'm only taking a break). I think I'm going to swim in a bit. The water's a little cold but who cares. So yeah, yesterday I got a loverly wake up call at about 5h42 am and it's my supervisor asking me to come into work. I love those day shifts. They are awesome. Specially when I do second cardiac (my favorite shift!!). It's great. When I'm done delivering the meals, I can go and loiter on the veranda on the fifth level for a while and it's so beautiful up there. I love it. So, that's what I did yesterday. The only sad thing about yesterday's shift was that one of my patients died. It was awful actually because it wasn't quietly or peaceful. Who wants to die amidst a frenzy of doctors trying to ressucitate you? With loudspeakers pretty much announcing your death throughout the building? "Cancel code blue. Cardiology Unit. Code bleu: Annulé. Institut de cardiologie". I find it harsh... Anyway, I have a game tonight. I'm kind of nervous. I'm not the best athlete ever but I made a promise to play. After that, I think we're going to the movies and that should be fun. Okay. well, I've had enough of a break. I'm going to get some water and then go rollerblading, I think... or swimming. Or maybe rollerblad first, then go swimming. Welcome, Summer!

+ après la pluie +

j'aime être spontanée de temps en temps. samedi qui vient de passer, une de mes meilleures amies et moi nous nous sommes dirigées par greyhound à Montréal pour la journée. Notre voyage a mal commencé cependant et ça nous a pris 4 heures pour s'y rendre!! ugh. En premier lieu, notre autobus est parti une demi-heure plus tard que prévu... à mi-chemin, on a tombé en panne dans une petite ville nommée Kirkland (je crois?). En tout cas, il nous a fallu attendre plus d'une heure et demi pour qu'un autre autobus vienne nous dépanner et même à ça, le deuxième autobus comportait moins de sièges. Ceci dit, on a du rester debout pour le restant du trajet. Chose difficile lorsqu'il s'agit d'un greyhound et non un autobus de ville qu'on voyage à une vitesse plus élevée qu'en milieu urbain. Mais quand même, j'ai eu la chance de causer avec un individu qui étudie à l'université en philosophie. Il m'a parlé de ses origines colombiennes et de sa famille. C'était quand même intéressant, quoi qu'inconfortable (puisque j'était debout, évidemment, essayant de ne pas tomber sur le monde assis). J'aimerais bien visiter l'Amérique du sud un de ces jours... Mais, je veux toujours aller en Europe premièrement. Peut être aurais-je la chance d'y aller cet été? Je l'espère bien...

Une fois arrivé à Montréal, plus de deux heures en retard (grr), on s'est dirigé vers la rue Ste-Catherine. Nous nous sommes retrouvées au beau milieu d'un festival quelconque. On a passé du temps a ramasser des dépliants sur le tourisme Canadien (plutôt sur le tourisme dans les maritimes) et on a même eu la chance de décorer des chandelles avec de la cire chaude. Vive les événements gratuits! Il a fait tellement beau samedi et moi, ayant prévu une journée pluvieuse, j'ai failli apporter mes lunettes de soleil et je portait un chandaille à manches longues. Il a fait encore plus chaud. Je me sentais niaiseuse, le jacket serré autour de ma taille, les manches retroussées le plus possible et le visage froncé pour voir malgré la puissance du soleil ardent. Tant pis. Il faisait tellement beau et je préfère, en général, le beau temps à la pluie : )

On n'a pas magasiné tant que ça en fin de compte. Je me suis acheté deux paires de jeans en vente. On a passé du temps au centre Eaton, et à la Baie. Il va bien falloir qu'on y retourne. Avec le délai causé par la panne d'autobus et le festival distrayant, on a pas eu beaucoup de temps pour visiter les magasins. De plus, les heures d'ouvertures ne sont pas très bonnes le samedi (tout ferme à 17h00). J'ai vraiment aimé ma journée et j'espère y retourner bientôt.. J'aimerais aussi aller à Toronto cet été. woo. Okay, je pense avoir fini d'écrire. Je vais profiter de la belle température ici et de ma journée off pour aller dehors et peut être faire du patin. ciao!

how long

how long is the night? is it too late to heal? [thursday] how could this happen to me? [simple plan] i love how some music lyrics speak volumes. i love music in general. there's this one music video on rotation now that just makes me emotional every time i watch it. i probably shouldn't be watching it. it really makes you think though. a lot of the time, i try to avoid thinking altogether. i'm on a reading hiatus right now. there's so much going on already. i don't need for my mind to be crowded with the problems of strangers who write about these. i miss reina. i miss frodo. tuesday, i went to a concert at the church. united played from hillsong, australia. it was amazing. and to see all these kids so riled up for God. it was incredible. i go to a lot of rock shows but nothing compares to a setting where the object of emphasis of every song is the Creator of the universe.

i used to have that zeal. i was young once. we were young so full of love [slick shoes]. i was just like them. when did that change? was it when i realized that death was real? it has been a difficult year in that regard... always at this time of the month too... my grandfather, may 25th 2004... reina, august 27th 2004... frodo, january 26th 2005. and these are the ones close to me. life is so brittle. flesh and blood is weak and frail [t.s. eliot]. i read somewhere a beautiful quote concerning life and death's envy of it:

The reason death sticks so closely to life isn't biological necessity - it's envy.

Life is so beautiful that death has fallen in love with it,

jealous, possessive love that grabs at what it can.

But life leaps over oblivion lightly, losing only a thing or two

of no importance, and gloom is but the passing

shadow of a cloud.

[yann martel]

i watched a movie last night that was so sad and tragic and yet so beautiful. i dreamt about it. i cried on my way home thinking about it. it made me think of hell because of one scene near the end of the movie. who would have thought that Star Wars could have such spiritual relevance? maybe it's just me... who am i? what am i doing for God? am i where he wants me to be? am i living out my full potential for him? what about those around me? those that i love? do they see in me the life that God has given me? do they envy that abundant life that i'm supposed to be living out? i failed my exam on tuesday. no doubt. i wasn't ready for it. it makes me angry at myself. why this mediocrity? how can i get out of this rut? is it possible for me to regain that zeal that i had as a teenager? i wasn't ashamed of what i believed then. am i ashamed now? why do i keep silent sometimes? i used to write songs. i used to have joy. is it possible to have joy surrounded by death? i hope so. i need it desperately. but i need God more.

more than life. more than life. more than life.

more than the air i breathe.

more than anything.

with eyes turned toward the sky

you'll smile and wonder why

you've never seen the stars shine like tonight.

make a wish into the dark,

as you're walking through the park, and know

that everything will be all right.

thanks, doll.

I've been re-reading some of my old diary entries. It's great. So much has changed over the last year or so and yet I still recognize myself in my writings and it's as though I'm getting to know an old friend once again. When did things become so different? When did the change occur? I'm re-learning what it is to be honest. To allow people to get to know me. To allow myself to be myself without having to pretend I'm perfect. To allow myself to become more myself. To discover who I am and grow into that person that I am slowly becoming. It's kind of neat. And rereading those diary entries makes me realize that who I'm striving to become is very similar to the person I used to be. I used to have such faith. I used to be more sure of everything. Maybe it's because I knew less then than what I do now. Ignorance is bliss, is it not? I find the more I learn, the more I realize that I know nothing at all.

Mike bought me a cd for my birthday. It's a beautiful album. I listened to it while driving to work this afternoon. It's by a band called Mae and the lead singer's vocals are so pristine. I love it. The album is mixed to perfection. It's gorgeous to listen to. I tried to come up with a band to compare it to... but was alas unable to. It's sort of pop-ish meets melodic; ballads that are aesthetically pleasing and yet thoughtful and fresh. I haven't added to my cd collection in a long time so the gift was much appreciated. We did end up going back to that site with all the free furniture the day after we first went. Sadly though, the garbage men were throwing all that prime stuff into the back of a green machine monster of a truck to bring to the dumpster. Plus, the owner of the land wouldn't let me peruse the area because he was busy with the demolition derby out front. Too bad... we'll just have to go back when he's not around.

Besides, I brought my camera and yet no film... Go figure. That is such a me thing to do. I only discovered that post facto when I went to the car graveyard the day after to take pictures of the cav after the great accident. Man, the images of all those cars - yea, our car totaled and wrecked - are still so strongly in my head. It's truly disturbing. It makes me shudder now to hear sirens. Or see the remains of accident sites on the road when I'm waiting for the bus. Sheer craziness. Now I need only to buy a car...

This morning, my amp was being difficult for the begining part of the first service I played. grr to amps and technical difficulties. The second service was much better, overall. The preaching was also much better the second time around. I'm glad I stayed for both (usually I only go to the one morning service at church). The last one was very good. It was a great evening at work too. Not too much drama. My patients were all very kind and the co-workers were fun. I love my job. woo. Indeed, it's been a good day.

Anyway, I've rambled enough for one night.

peace.

destiny

Don't you know?

Everything that is meant to be

Somehow will be.

Time will tell.

In time, yes, but now?

Now, you know, is brief.

You will never be here again.

what is man?

What is man that You are mindful of him, and the son of man that You visit him?"

[psalm 8:4... quoted also in hebrews 2:6]

what are words? what are minutes to one waiting, in such a way? my brain is fuzzy; my left leg is twitching fiercely and my eyes are swollen as though i haven't slept in days. i feel sick to my stomach. if anything ever happened... i don't know what i would do. i can't think about it. what if.. what if... unanswered questions float around in the murky depths of my conscious mind. this air is thick. the fan and automatic doors are to me so loud i can't hear myself think. i don't know. i don't know anything. what is there to know? what is the truth? what is truth? you tell me... what is your truth? i'm angry. i don't know who you are anymore. talk to me. please, say something. why do i wish you were here, of all people? brief, brief shadow of life rekindle the flame in those eyes when the lights fade away in a well-lit room while you long to melt into the walls. a room that is cold. unfamiliar. one that i haven't seen yet. i know you are there. waiting. alone. in agony. but i can't know for sure. what do i know? nothing. i wait here. alone. in agony. not knowing anything. but waiting evermore.. 2h53 am. i wish i was dead. God, give me clarity. strength. courage. i am not happy but trust that you are sovereign. please, tell me everything will be all right. even if it's a lie and not the truth.

not a dream... not even close. and this, sitting at the computer. while the rest of the world lies dormant... brings back a flood of feelings. fear. extreme fear. it's the way i would have done it... God knows how i've thought about it over the years... arriving home so late... or early rather. sleep is wonderful now knowing. not knowing everything. but enough to rest a bit. for a few hours at least. what happened seems almost a blur now. it's odd. but still, it chokes me up and i can't breathe. my chest hurts. an invisible hand clasps at my throat and heart and at the pit of my stomach, which is empty. i have to write about it, lest i forget. i watched a cnn special tonight on memory. we tend to remember things under stress and yet the details are fuzzy because of the release of stress hormones. i remember still. sitting in the chair, so uncomfortable. the smell of antisceptics. the gleam of the wall and floor. the renovations look very nice. they did a good job. my face is red and puffy. i look like crap. but i don't care. what i feel is real and not fake. my heart races and i feel the blood and hear it in my ears. i am alive. and thankful for life. what a gift. what a fine gift. what is man that you are mindful of him, Lord? who am i... but great are You.. i pray like never before. these are urgent pleas of the soul, expressed in desperation. i don't care who sees me. the tables have turned. now i know how it feels...

sleep. beautiful sleep. i feel i could sleep for days. but i can't. reality awaits me when i wake. i have to leave. the world seems different today. it holds new meaning. my perspective has changed. i will never be the same again. yet everything around is normal. for everyone else, nothing has changed. this is weird. i want to yell at them. to see what i now see. to feel what i'm feeling so that they don't have to learn the hard way. it's a gorgeous day. but i'm numb. all these ruins. all the stories they represent. tales of life and victory. in some cases, dismal accounts of defeat and death. it's a miracle. it's a miracle. i can't believe it. it's too lofty for me to understand. but God, you know. you were there. it's unbelievable. i am so thankful... so thankful.. thank you. this is surreal. but it's more real to me than anything else right now... perhaps more real to me than anything has ever been before. there it is again... the familiar closing of my throat. i swallow hard but to no avail. such emotions. i am not in control. but it's okay. because these are tears of gratefulness. of joy. of realization. of truth. it's okay for me to feel these things. it's human. it's real. i'm real. and alive. and well. as are all those that i love. they're here, living still. because of you, Lord. because of you...

like hourglass sand...

So, today was a memorable day. I'm listening to some Jet right now. It's good. What's great is that you can listen to the whole album online, withough having to buy the album. Although the only song I ever really listen to is the fourth one. woo.


I woke up this morning, wishing on my birthday, that some dreams could transpose themselves to real life; and, that some real life issues would be transformed into nightmares that I could easily wake up from and forget once the night has passed. But then, I got a phone call from a wacky but oh-so-rad friend who sang to me and then lured me to breakfast at Cora's. Breakfast in the company of two best friends was awesome! I had these crepe things with fruit (hello, pineapple!) and it was so good. I'd never been to this restaurant before, so it's good to know it exists (for future reference, of course). The waitress brought me a little swan made out of an apple with a candle on it which was adorable. I felt bad ruining such a work of culinary art.

We then proceeded in going shopping. I bought a book and a CD for my mom. A new Winners was opening today so the three of us checked that out. The place, however, was madness!! Oh my goodness, there were women everywhere.. I swear. It was crazy. Not only women, but random babies in strollers strewn a little everywhere too. I felt as though I was in a nursery. I think three ladies hit me with their carts and/or strollers... at least!! We met up with an old friend of mine who's been away at school in Toronto for the last couple of years and so it was so neat seeing her again. She's back home for the summer, so I'll no doubt be hanging out with her some more in the days to come.

then... I had to work.

AFTER work, I was exiting through the back doors because I had parked out back (how rational!). Lo and Behold, there is Mike, as ever talking on the phone, heading toward me. I'm like "what the heck?!" He says to me, "yeah, I'm on the phone with your mom, asking her what time you're off work." So it was pretty random and altogether a pleasant surprise. So we go and visit a patient friend of his (to whom I had subsequently served a nice dinner of beef stew with waxed beans and mashed potatoes). Is that even sayable (is sayable sayable?!)? Subsequently? Should it not be presequently since it preceeded what happened? meh. no matter.


As we're driving, he tells me of this place in the middle of nowhere on the side of the highway where, apparently, there is a whole bunch of free furniture up for grabs. "You feel like checking it out?" "Absolutely" was my resolute reply. I pull over to the left into this dumpy skeleton of a lot, the ghostly remains of a once magnificent motel (okay... maybe magnificent is too strong a word, but I can just picture this place having been quite picturesque in its glory days). There are 2 old fridges that smell disgusting when opened. Two old fashioned tvs (one of which I was oh-so tempted to take, just as esthetic eye candy if not for functional purposes) and about a gazillion couch cushions and about a thousand old car tires. I found a couple of interesting old books (love love love the oldness of old books) that I couldn't resist taking as well as a very unique German porcelain tea cup. For Mike, we managed to fit an entire bookcase and an endtable in the backseat and trunk of the crappy car (respectively). He also found some copy of the Bible too, written in "today's contemporary English". We talked to a lot of interesting people also searching for treasures among the ruins as well as made fun of some of the other obviously trashy garbage things that were there. Oh yeah, speaking of garbage. Mike found a perfectly good garbage can so we brought that one with use also.

It was so cool.

We're planning on going back tomorrow to excavate further the premises. You can be sure I will be armed with a camera this time... and a roll of black and white film. yessir. The place was prime grounds for kind of photography that I like. Who knows? I may end up with a very retro non-functional television in the back seat of the rusty cav by the end of the day...

Welcome, new year.

Let us soak up life.

the miracle of saving grace...

engraved hands bear witness
of love made whole in death.
this unveiled passion was no less
at birth than at last dying breath.
the marred and bleeding back he raised
to inhale air he himself designed
contained the same beating heart that praised
the creation of beloved mankind.
with knowing eyes, he scanned the crowd
as pain ripped through his chest.
and though "forsaken!" cried out loud,
he knew his plight was for the best.
slain one day; three later, risen from the grave.
his blood; shed for those whose lives he died to save.

grace... meets me here, in my imperfection. in my impurity. in my utter simplicity. she reaches out her hand to pull me up every single time i fail... without fail. grace accompanied by hope and liberty, together, allow me second chances... when i know i never deserved a first chance to begin with. she tells me the truth, even when i don't want to hear it. she believes in me, when i am incapable of believing in who i am; in who i've become, thus far; and in the person i'm slowly becoming. she sees for me what i am helplessly unable to see for myself. in all of my pride and selfishness, she reminds me of those around me, urging me to look beyond my own wants and needs. in all of my weakness, grace coaches me; stressing uncompromisingly "not by might, not by power" and "my strength is made perfect in weakness"... Lord, make me the right kind of weak. the kind of weak you can use. the kind of weak that is pleasing to You. and by the way, thank you for grace - undeserved, unrelenting, unfathomable grace. grace that is, indeed, greater than all my sins.

the moon is down

The moon is completely fantastic this fine evening. It is large and low in the sky and a distinct shade of yellow such as I've never seen it. Man, I love the sky. I love how every night holds a different tapestry of beauty for those who would seek to see it's grandeur. It also makes me think of a certain song by Further Seems Forever that I love (notably entitled "The Moon is Down"). Anyway, I'm not really saying a whole heck of a lot right now. Tis all good though. Sometimes, it's nice to not have to say anything (or have nothing to say) and yet, still manage to say something. I think I do that a lot, come to think of it... The worst though, is when I try and try and try to come up with something to say, and in spite of all my efforts, still remain unable to say anything. Awkward silence ensues and conversation is dulled. I hate when that happens. meh.

So, I love working Sunday evenings just because it's so laid back. It's great. I don't have to work again until Thursday. woo. Mini-break for me. What a rarity. I went to see The Interpreter last night at the theatre. It was fun. The story-line is somewhat difficult to follow and is often confusing... but nevertheless, the story was suspenseful. Sean Penn is such a great actor as is Nicole Kidman. She's so pretty in that movie too. Movies are fun.

Okay, well. I should get going now. I have to meet a friend from school to study tomorrow downtown. There will be no escaping the study for this exam... although I've been lax in my study for the other exams I've written thus far.

the moon is down

heaven is waiting for us

to find her in our sites

with focus that's strong

but my strength keeps slipping...

[the moon is down - fsf]

in this concrete world

So, today was the writing of examen numéro trois... yay anatomy!! I have an exam tomorrow (for which I've yet to study... grr to me) and the last on Tuesday of next week. And then, I get a break from school for a whole week before starting my spring class. woo. I'm listening to Switchfoot right now. How I do enjoy their music so so so much. I've been humming "Concrete Girl" to myself all day, for some reason. It has been my theme song for the week; mainly due to the exam period factor and due to all the death at work. I'm serious, everyone is dying.

Not to dwell on such morbid things today is my sincerest desire. So yeah. I have a little pig on my lap swathed in a blue towel. George is squealing/purring quite contentedly and loudly, might I add. He likes when you squish him ^{but not too hard, naturally...} I don't really have a whole heck of a lot to say right now. I played to play some new piano pieces tonight just moments ago. Handel and Beethoven always make me happy. I bought a watercolour technique book on tuesday. I'm planning on picking up that hobby again once school ends. It's been too too long since I last painted. I even splurged and bought a new paintbrush ^{but it wasn't too much of a splurge because it was half price and quite inexpensive to begin with...}

I was watching the news tonight also and on Le Point, some interviewer was interviewing Paul Martin and afterwards, Stephen Harper. The interviewer was the best. Honestly, his questions were awesome. I could repeat some of it, but it would most likely be boring to read. However, it was great to watch. I hate politics and somehow love them all at once.. ^{how is that possible?}

I finished reading Homer's The Iliad last week. That book left me feeling surprisingly quite depressed, once completed. So, to overcome all of the ideas of the book that were tumbling around in my mind, I immersed myself into another classic, notably Nineteen Eighty-four by George Orwell. I actually really liked the book. It was crazy. It's astounding to me how anyone can be so talented as to write some of the things that have been written over time. Above all though, reading inspires me to write. All this to say, I enjoyed the book. I wasn't crazy so much about the turture scenes, primarily because I have copiously vivid amounts of imagination. This caused me to actually want to shut out the pictures in my mind concerning some of the details the author expressed. I liked how the book made me reflect though on the subjective definition of Freedom; what it means to me and how it can be obtained.

Okay, I'm out.

weakness

Walking on shards of broken glass;
A blanket that stretches out forever
beneath my feet.

The sun won't melt me with its heat
though I perceive its light.
It burns and yet this seems a most
welcomed sensation.

I smell pot and spring and hear
Voices of children.
Water runs below in a man-constructed canal.

A slight breeze.
A stranger sitting on the wooden bench lateral to mine on the left hand side.

Near silence now as the breeze increases in intensity.
Meanwhile,
The light of the sun decreases.
Yelling in the distance, coming from behind,
Suddenly.

The flip of a page, turned.
The scream loudens, mingled
with another sound: shallow laugther.

My blanket of broken glass shards
has transformed itself into a jungle.

Not a tropical one, mind you, but
consisting of concrete and steel.

Bars perpendicular and closed gates are
Creating a great barrier.

A prison. Almost 2 post meridiem.

The Tower bells will soon chime;
A type of knell to this desolate soul,
in need of a physical touch.

"What do you want? What are you looking for?"
Inaudible Whisper disrupts my train of thought.
"Something real..." is my heart's silent reply.

A visceral growl interrupts my musings;
the hunger pangs of the flesh
I've become almost adept at ignoring.
Annoyance at most.

A cigarette lit.
The smell invades my constricted world
Bringing with it a soothing measure of comfort.

There they are!
The bells announcing the dismal passing...
of a plane overhead?

A two-tone flag waves triumphant.
One colour: that of surrender.
The other: symbolic of sacrifice.
The price paid for peace.
Peace of mind.

A piece of my mind,
shared, divided, added up again,
and equaling nothing
in the end.

bury the calendar

Just as months recede, time does fly -
Fleeting moments leaving traces.
Meager clock of age does it defy
As witness wrought by wrinkled faces.
Masterful hold has it on mankind,
Jeering at those attempting to tame
Juries eternal having yet still to find
Accusations rightful enough to tarnish its name.
Studying forever and ever learning
Optimal lessons of life to bear.
Now to the heart, the sensation of burning
Deepens the wounds already there.

What more to say? What more to know?
No more to take in; yet much more to show.



_{btw, the calendar is buried in that the months "initial-ize" the first twelve lines...}