Saturday, September 23, 2006

Don't go to Boston.

You'll find that there is no point. That eventually, people will start to call you by the same name, as they did in California. Canada 3 years ago was my Boston. And I have found that the people I ran away from were those who knew me, who cared, and who would gladly wear my chains.

She said I think I'll go to Boston. I think I'll start a new life. I think I'll start it over, where no one knows my name. I'll get out of California, I'm tired of the weather, I think I'll get a lover and fly 'em out to Spain. I think I'll go to Boston. I think that I'm just tired. I think I need a new town, to leave this all behind. I think I need a sunrise, I'm tired of Sunset, I hear it's nice in the summer, some snow would be nice.

Boston ~ Augustana

And thinking though this song, I think I've learnt that I needn't be in a difficult relationship. I don't need to demand, to intimidate, to be insecure or to manipulate. I can just sit and be with you. I don't want to have people (or flowers) crying or bleeding over me. I'd love healthily, and keep my heart here.


In other news, I received a Greek postcard today, with Bulgarian stamps. It had one sentence written on it in some cyptic alphabet. I believe it's Greek.

For a couple of moments, I was arrested by wild thoughts of some DaVinci-esque adventure. What does the postcard say? Perhaps a message about a plane ticket, a secret gathering. something?

No, I haven't dechipered the text yet, but whatever it is, it's great to have friends around the world. Literally, around the world. Eh, my friend? Buddy?


"Do you believe that?" she asked.

Her question stopped me. How could I answer, honestly? I recalled Iran and the time Yamin described me as a man caught between two worlds, a man in the middle. In some ways, I wished I had been in that camp when the guerrillas attacked, or that I was one of the guerillas. An odd feeling crept over me, a sort of jealously for Yamin and Doc and the Colombian rebels. These were men with convictions. They had chosen real worlds, not a no-man's territory somewhere between.

"I have a job to do," I said at last.
She smiled gently.

"I hate it," I continued. I thought about the men whose images had come to me so often over the years, Tom Paine and the other Revolutionary War heros, pirates and frontiersmen. They stood at the edges, not in the middle. They had taken stands and lived with the consequences.

Confessions of an Economic Hit Man ~ John Perkins

If anyone should be living as dangerously as this, it's the Christians. It's not about a comfortable cell group. It's about being real, and as dangerous as the heart of God.

Friday, September 22, 2006

Sing sing sing sing sing sing sing sing sing sing.
I'd like to thank the people out there who believe in me more then I do in myself. For inviting me to make music with you and for not letting me go.

Tristan please come out soon and take my voice out.

But I yet need so much more then this.
It took a while, but it finally dawned upon me while climbing the quiet stairs to my room: I am, and feel, beautiful. I may not look it, or act it, but I know that I am.

And with that in mind, I'll find my quiet and put my arms around you.


Sometimes, when I look into the mirror, I fear that the energy within me will rise up from my reflection and swallow me whole. I know its ridiculous to be afraid of your own reflection in the mirror, but I think I sometimes think that this isn't me running my life.

But I'm sure we all feel that way.
A little consumer whoring for me, only becuase this is for a dear boy whom I love dearly. Ian Tann. Are you reading this you little *&^%? Becuase you better appreciate this. And I'd vouch for him, he's good.

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Thursday, September 21, 2006

After 3 years or writing 12 page research essays, I have forgotten how to do a 5 page report, Arts One Style.

Flip Out.

And then I realise that all that i've fervently advocated tonight, I failed at miserably 6 months before. Somewhere on Blanca at 11th, in the dark for hours, coming to nothing.

--------- - Bye Bingieboey
guess what i'm doing

Dārayawuš: "He Who Holds Firm the Good"
later you wake up at 12 again
then start your ritual self bashing - Bye Bingieboey

Goodbye friend, have a good trip to seattle. We'll talk soon.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

I've been foolish. But it's almost over.

In a little while
Surely you'll be mine
In a little while I'll be there

In a little while
This hurt will hurt no more
I'll be home, love

When the night takes a deep breath
And the daylight has no end
If I crawl, if I come crawling home
Will you be there

In a little while
I won't be blown by every breeze
Friday night running
To Sunday on my knees

That girl, that girl
She's mine
And I've know her since

Since she was a little girl
With Spanish eyes
Oh, when I saw her
In a pram they pushed her by

My, how you've grown
Well it's been
It's been a little while...

That was for my heart, and while the hellride isn't over yet, might as well enjoy the ride.
You're beautiful. Wrong but beautiful.


on another note, I've found my voice again.
I can envision the life i want to live right now, it entails singing with Tristan on sunday nights.
And also other things.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Tuesday afternoon 12.33 pm.

The morning comes too soon and has forgotten me, trailing off with her fat behind waving mockingly in my face. I roll out of bed, which sticks to me like fly paper while reaching tencacles into my soul, chocking off my will. This is my morning.

It feels like an emotional hangover. Ugh. My left eye has always been a little lazy and sticks to its lid, leaving half my world unfocused and the other half, just plan pissy.

wha... what hit me?

I'm still asking that question, here on the keyboard over blogge, MSN, and a kooky hotmail account. What hit me?

I sort of remember, an overworked day, lack of sleep, heart-probing conversations, heart-ripping conversations, a negative self-appraisal of my emotional direction. And my dreams. The fuzzy over-ripe ones that fade with the morning, or afternoon.

And here I am, it's now 12.50, and if not for Majortom, I'd be a little worse for wear.

Yes it's true, the coolest peeps are all in Eastern Canada.
Wait? I don't spend my life waiting. I just do my own thing.
~ Aunty KL.

Well then, what if waiting is the thing that I do?
It's really all a waste of time.

But I need to stop running.

Monday, September 18, 2006

At Aunty Kim Lian's today, I learnt two things.

1) Staring into the mirror won't make it go away.
2) I need compassion. Compassion is the height of God's virtues.

[Edit 2235 hrs]

3) Don't spend your life waiting. Be.
oh how i need to be reminded.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

sanctify my mind
The Unchurched.

I'm skipping church this morning, and feeling somewhat bleh about that move. Bernerd talked about auto-pilot the other day, and my lack of will in the mornings to wake for something like church is disappointing. In a way, it's not that bad considering that I probably really needed the rest, but I know, I could sleep earlier on weeknights, etc etc etc.

But no, there are too many things in my life that are too important to me. And my church doesn't seem to happen on Sunday mornings as much as it happens over lunch on weekdays, in swimming pools and over ice cream on saturday nights. As I said before, I've always been mildly resentful toward God for depriving me of a 'normal' church situation, which I recognise entails making it for yourself.

But I'm not,
and I can't be,
and this isn't me.

It would do be a great disservice to everyone and anyone to lie and to live a lie, so I refuse to take the easy way out and assimilate myself. I don't think God has dragged me through shitty church circumstances for me to just abdicate on what I believe in and mindlessly dissolve. Here I am, I believe in something passionately, I am convicted of a truth revealed in my life (and I think that this is more then what I can say for most others).

So I'm with you, the dispossessed, the ones who are the troublers of israel, who stand and stare and give up on the compromise. Who want to seek the inward truth. And with those who sit alone on sunday mornings, kicking themselves for not fulfilling their churchly obligations, and who would punch themselves if they did.

Seriously, how can anyone blame them?

Humble as a mumble in the jungle
of shouts and screams
That's the way the cracker crumbles
So I guess I've gotta re-route my dreams
Y'all can't harm me, it's over

[Humble Mumble ~ Outkast]

[Edit: 1519 hrs]

Alright so i did eventually end up having church today.
It was over the internet, with Erwin and Curtis,

Dear God
We are your people and mostly we don't mind,
except that you do not fit any of our categories.
We keep pushing, and pulling, and twisting, and turning,
trying to make you fit the God we would rather have,
and every time we distort you that way we end up with an idol more congenial to us.
In our more honest moments of grief and pain we are very glad that you are who you are, and that you are toward us in all your freedom what you have been toward us.
So be your faithful self, and by your very engagement in the suffering of the world, transform the world even as you are being changed. We pray in the name of Jesus, who is the sign of your suffering love,

And somehwere, a threefold Amen.

[Edit : 1756 hrs]

I can't stay pissy for the rest of my life. I've got to start somewhere.
But for now, thank God for grace.

I made a lot of mistakes
I made a lot of mistakes
I made a lot of mistakes
I made a lot of mistakes

If I was crying in the van with my friend
It was for freedom from myself and from the land.

Sufjan, you understand me.

I suddenly realise what they mean when they say that 'you cannot have your cake and eat it'. I want things in my life that are diametrically opposed, and I stand in the middle, arms wildly outstretched toward both corners.

Just Flow.