|a year in the life ..
||[Sep. 24th, 2014||09:32 am]
a year in victoria:|
september 2, 2013 -
sometimes i spend my days in a daze. i wonder what i'm doing with myself. i spend my time thinking about where i will go, and why the canvas is blank, and where are the romantic and enchanted words i used to spew forth so readily. i used to have a way with words, i used to find it all so beautiful.
the clouds are back. they float lazily across the sky, covering it like a big blanket of cumulus and cirrus. i think about how comforting the small things are, they save me daily. the lively twang of a country song before it gets invaded by drum and bass. the glow in someone's eyes when i do or make something nice for them. that feeling in your stomach when you laugh too hard.
relearn to be alone. relish each step as it crunches below your feet. run. walk to the water, make tea. lose yourself in the swirls of the steam, and the steady rhythm of the rise and fall of the creaking boats, like the ocean itself is alive. do yoga. try something new. dance.
sept 24, 2013 -
i have walked this city countless times, and fallen in love with it all. the streets, the buildings, the people, i would watch it all with bright shining eyes. now as i walk through it all it seems different. i am seeing it all for the first time, suddenly i am a part of it. i can hear it with every step, stirring up the broken leaves in eddies and dervishes of oranges and reds.
i find solace in the little things, always. a beautiful smile that i can't get enough of. the way ashley looks at me when she brings me tea in the morning. the genuine kindness of people. i honestly would not be here if not for my friends who have stepped up and helped me. and i am so grateful.
october 1, 2013 -
everything is strange these days. the sun splashes the deck through the trees on the occasions the clouds part, just for a second. the droplets in the green needles reflect worlds in miniatures. or it rains. like drums on my heart, the noise just makes me think of my home and this place. beating down like so many tears, it washes the world clean. i am trying to remember the beauty of it all, but i am remembering what it is to be alone. the sadness. there is a yearning that is taking hold of me, cold fickle fingers drumming on my shoulders, giving me chills just like the brisk air, floating from my lips in wisps. does anything really ever last forever?
october 14, 2013 -
i am thankful more than ever for the little things. the colour of the early morning sky as it changes from pink to blue. the slight curve of a mesmerizing smile. the way the words pour forth from my mind. the way a good book can draw you in. the color of the leaves as the last golden rays of the sun shine through. the steam that slowly dances over a cup of tea.
thank you to the changing seasons, without which i think life might feel a little less comforting. thank you to second hand bookstores. thank you to the smells that take you back. thank you to each caring soul who has taken the time to pick me up and unerstand me. thank you to the sunrise on each icy morning. thank you to the music that consumes me in ways that i cant even comprehend. i am grateful to the way that words fit together in so many beautiful ways to create new things every day.
october 26, 2013 -
knee deep in expectations, wading through desperation, how can you struggle on-wards towards that misty unknown? what is there on the other side for a lost spirit looking for an answer? each face you see is a blur of assumptions, ignorance, and self indulgence, barrelling down their own paths at breakneck speed. how can we grow our own wings to fly when we are tied to the wings of another?
january 20, 2014 -
i like to go outside in winter and try to separate my bitterness for this time of year from my feelings for the actual season. the moisture in my breath dances as it passes between my lips and lightly kisses my nose. the sun rises with a cool, crisp glow, illuminating all the skeletal trees in my backyard and leaving a lovely golden filter on everything. i like to sit in a sunny spot in my stairwell in the morning. it gives me a centre, makes me feel normal for a moment ..
i guess i just miss conversations without expectation. everyone wants something; a favor, emotion, effort, my time, my energy, my body.. i want to feel sparks, but of intellect and stimulating conversation. i feel a little bit like i guess put up on this weird pedestal and nobody really sees me for who i am, or care ask.
i keep turning round in circles and its always a left hand turn ..
february 22 2014 -
I like wishing your body was Saturn
My body a thousand rings wrapped around you
You wanted to be a Buddhist nun once
Last night you held my cervix between your fingers
I thanked gods I don’t believe in for your changing
And we held each other like I held these words
For too many years on the tip of my tongue
I am my mother’s daughter
I am midnight’s sun
You can find me on the moon
Waxing and waning
My heart full of petals
Every single one begging
Love me, love me, love me
Whoever I am
Whoever I become
march 15, 2014 -
and now i am still caught up in the feeling, humming to myself and sipping warm milky bengal spice tea in the bathtub, the sweet vanilla of the epsom salts rising as steam, rolling up to tangle with the steam from the spicy, rich chai.
my toes just touch the water
and now all i have to do is remember this feeling. tuck it away in a short, small, backwards book, and open it on the rainy days when life is dingy and dreary and nowhere near as bright as this slick new day, shiny from the near-spring rain that covers us all with anticipation.
may 13, 2014 -
these are the kinds of things i think about when i am happy, and they are the kinds of things that make me stop feeling sad. lots of things in life suck, but if i think about those all the time then i think i'd just be sad all the time. so i think about the things in the moment that make me happy, instead. like the smell of this lentil soup that my love just placed down in front of me. the still lingering memory of kyckers' house, and the glittering laughter of three beautiful muses. i like to appreciate those around me. i like selfless good deeds. i like flowery writing. mine used to be better. oh well. hey look, soup!
may 18, 2014 -
i get this strange feeling of warmth and contentedness in my chest when the days grow longer and more comfortable. the leaves have all grown in on the birch tree in front of my house, it sits in front of my porch and creates a big green screen. i curl up in a papsan chair i've lugged out onto the porch with chris, and watch the occasional pine needle float lazily from the trees above. the sky changes color as the sun changes location, slowly dragging itself down to the horizon.
may 19, 2014 -
the days get dark later and later. i open the windows and leave the glass door wide open. i lay in the patches of sunshine, and memorize the patterns of swirls and curliques left behind by dust, or steam from a cup of tea, or maybe vapour that smells like bavarian cream, or lazy smoke. the cool air wafts in, refreshing and free, reminiscent of the ocean a few blocks away. the gulls squawk in the distance.
i fit on the papasan chair--that i've put on the deck--with him perfectly, me wrapped around him like yin and yang. a handrolled tea-cigarette sometimes rests lightly between my fingers. i remember to open books slowly, to cherish their old musty smell. everything around us is green, the birches, the gary oaks, the arbutus trees. the grass is a deep fresh green, and it feels cool and comfortable between my toes.
i feel his hand in mine, our fingers intertwine, as we walk along the waterfront, our footsteps echo on the wooden boardwalks. the blossoms fall from the trees in an almost magical way, floating and chasing each other in little eddies. the path twists and turns and follows the ocean, a cool blue in the distance, a tropical green closer to shore. when the sun goes down it explodes in vibrant golds and oranges, kissing the trees and the clouds as it sinks slowly to the horizon. life is simple sometimes, and it's then that i feel at peace.
may 23, 2014 -
the green grass surrounds us like an ocean, swaying to it's own lullaby. the blue blanket is an oasis amongst the oases so often overlooked in the bustle of the metropolis. shining as bright as the sun that catches the tops of the trees and illuminating each blade of grass, his smile warms my soul. for who-knows-how-long, it was just us and we forgot the cold woes of the world. the sunshine beaming in speckles through the trees to kiss my shoulders in bespeckled patterns, lighting up the crease in his hip, his collar bones, the corners of his mouth that just continuously turn up. his smile is electric, contagious. it feels like a dream, like a surreal painting, a drug induced coma. i feel the cares melt off of both of us, and our fingers intertwine like the words that burst forth from our lips amidst laughter and love.
may 25, 2014 -
slowly his things are intermingling with mine and it makes me feel so electric and delicious. little things make me happy. like when he's gone to work and i'm still in bed, and i move over to his pillow and breathe him in. when i wake up early with the sun, and read until he stirs; his eyes flutter and he smiles while still half asleep, and reaches out to touch me. the way his eyes light up and his smile illuminates his face when i haven't seen him for a while.
june 16, 2014 -
hand in hand, fingers intertwined. tea at the taj vanilla chai. christian cameron tipping. how to eat pussy - a magical guide for evolved people. henry pfr & todiefor. watching the sunrise. getting so lost in the music it pulls you out of a black hole. kicking sand. visits from good friends who live far away. speaking words of wisdom; let it be. mixing is a form of flow. step back - hold your tongue. laughing until your stomach hurts. the way he looks at me from across the room and a smile unconsciously crosses his face. hula hooping. infinite dabs. princess grandpa. the sun on my skin as the morning begins/ i'd die in the dark just to feel your skin on my skin. que pasa amigo. cans of arizona. dabba the hutt. dr professor scissors. resting my head on his chest. 100 years rick and morty. summit park. mixing music. waking up in the morning and seeing his face through my eyelashes.
june 19, 2014 -
when you're not looking, where do i go? i roll slowly, gathering moss and sticks along the way, tripping over my untied shoelaces and staring at everything like i've never seen it before. i photograph the world how i see the world - blurry, focused on a single point of interest, maybe sparkles or dust motes or smoke caught in the light. this lonliness in my chest flares up in unbearable ways sometimes, other times i can barely tell its there. this life is the only one i've got, i might as well enjoy it. so i dance when i walk down the street. not just a little bit, people like to laugh at me and i can almost hear them saying, "sometimes i dance too."
i pour myself a cup of tea, breathing in the dusty smells of bergamot or cloves and cardamom. the steam rises up to tickle my chin, and i wrap ny hands around the cup and it comforts me. sometimes i associate certain teas with certain people, too. if i am missing val, i will have a cup of twining's earl grey. or a cup of vanilla rooibos might remind me of victoria. i hope that they do the same.
july 26, 2014 -
when i speak in hopeful tones i am convincing myself as much as those around me. there is never an excuse to give up. life is beautiful. each day i survive the journey around the sun is another day i have a chance to see something new.
the sun is shining, i woke up with it kissing my skin. i am alive, i am alive in love. i woke up with chris kissing my skin. smiles fall across our faces just from realizing where we are. here, i am in a new place with new possibilities. the future tumbles in front of me like an unkempt forest path.
september 14, 2014 -
i need to spend time on myself, on my real self. i need to art more, dance more, stretch more. take more pictures. talk into the night with friends, not substances. i don't want to fill my void with bullshit. i don't want to cope by numbing myself.