I have a particular understanding of being victim and of being vicitimized. Like too many other Aboriginal people, I have been a victim. I was a victim of child sexual abuse, or a battering relationship, or rape. In the First Nation's women's community, that does not make me exceptional. I can tell you the name of only one Aboriginal woman in this country who I know for sure has not survived incest, child sexual abuse, rape or battering. it is worse than that, because most of us do not survive just one single incident of bause or violence. Our lives are about the experience of violence from birth to death, be it overt physical violence or psychological and emotional violence.

~Patricia Monture :: Standing Against Canadian Law

These be the things that still make me cry.

And I know you have a heavy heart, I can feel it when we kiss
So many men stronger than me have thrown their backs out trying to lift it
But me I'm not a gamble, you can count on me to split
The love I sell you in the evening by the morning won't exist

And I'm not sure what the trouble was that started all of this
The reasons all have run away, but the feeling never did
It's not something I would recommend, but it is one way to live
Cause what is simple in the moonlight by the morning never is

It was so simple in the moonlight now it's so complicated
It was so simple in the moonlight, so simple in the moonlight
So simple in the moonlight...

Lua :: Bright Eyes

Overheard on MSN

i was thinking

whoever you end up with

will be a very fortunate person

when things are right

~ GY Chua.

Haha you're secretly loving the drama.

~ MRH Westby.

Sometimes, like today, I get the feeling that everything I had ever known or thought about, was pointing to this one moment. It is as if life were gathering the folds of her skirt into a single bunch in the fist of her elegant hand. That's where I'm at right now.

Here it is. All of it. It now makes sense

"you have come to discover what you want"
- what i want is not to want what isn't mine
"But I am Desire"

"She's on this idea of women now. And, when I think being around all these women who have all these different kind of perceptions of each other. And you could say, some of them are intimidated by each other and some of them are envious and some of them really kind of like the other one but are afraid of being rejected so they don't know how to approach them. And there's all that going on. So busy, like bees. And uh, she makes her way into the warmth of Florida. She takes her time. She's driving now, she's on her own. And she's thinking about women, and women and women's relationships with each other and...what it brings up. And so, she sort of um, goes to the land for this one. This one place that's, where alot of people come to soak in, to feel sensual and warm and healed and delicious. So she's in Florida, and goes to another land where people go to feel delicious. Another paradise. And she finds that there's room enough for both of them, that they're both very different. And desire is very much a part of all this. And at the end of the day, Desire will do what she does best, which is make you desire that which is not yours. She moves on to away, and then comes back to Florida. Not feeling like she needs to betray one or the other. That she can value both of them, that there's room enough for both of them. I think there's healing all along the way in different parts of this. But that's really for the reader, and the listener to sense, because it's in the music alot of that. Those are clues that it takes you, I think, to our real feelings. The music is always the place where the clues are."
-- Scarlet Stories CD

You caught me lingering in another girl's paradise.
The way she paints the world, I want that in my life.

Does it all come down to:
the thing one girl fears in the night,
is another girl's paradise

Except, I am both.

I don't know if I really am concerned with understanding and loving, as much as I am concerned with giving the right answer.

What a pity. Such a beautiful life, and no balls to live it.

If I could...

I want to hold the hand inside you
I want to take a breath that's true
I look to you and I see nothing
I look to you to see the truth
You live your life
You go in shadows
You'll come apart and you'll go black
Some kind of night into your darkness
Colors your eyes with whats not there.
A stranger's light comes on slowly
A stranger's heart without a home
You put your hands into your head
And then smiles cover your heart

[Fade into you :: Mazzy Star]

Sunlight filters through the grey haze that we try to call sky. Melting the beauty of silent white peace into... well something I don't quite know because I haven't left the house yet. But I should. I'm back and I've got a life to live - to the full.

Lord, this year is in your hands, teach me great and unsearchable things, teach me truth. I will not shy away from anything handed to me, but grant me the wisdom to approach, to love and to contain.

Who will break, and fix, it with me?

Living grows round us like a skin
To shut away the outer desolation
For if we clearly mark the furthest deep
We should be dead long years before the grave
But turning around within the homely shell
Of worry discontent and narrow joy
We grow and flourish
And rarely see the outside dark that would confound our eyes.

Some break the shell.

I think that there are those that push their fingers through the brittle walls
And make a hole
And through this cruel slit
Stare out across the cinders of the world with naked eyes
They look both out and in
Knowing them selves and too much else beside.

[The Shell by Molly Drake]

Pretty damn good, actually.

You used to be so amused
At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used
Go to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse.

You said you'd never compromise
With the mystery tramp, but now you realize
He's not selling any alibis
As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes
And ask him, "do you want to make a deal?"

You used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat
Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat
Ain't it hard when you discover that
He really wasn't where it's at
After he took from you everything he could steal.

How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

[Like a Rolling Stone :: Bob Dylan]

Every time I visit my grandmother, I leave with a knot in my stomach. I cannot, absolutely cannot, bring any boy home who isn't Chinese.

Shit.