Where are we? What the hell is going on? The dust has only just begun to form, crop circles in the carpet, sinking, feeling. Spin me round again and rub my eye, this can't be happening. When busy streets a mess with people would stop to hold their heads heavy. Hide and seek. Trains and sewing machines. All those years... they were here first. Oily marks appear on walls where pleasure moments hung before. The takeover, the sweeping insensitivity of this still life. Hide and seek. Trains and sewing machines. Oh, you won't catch me around here. Blood and tears. They were here first. What you say? That you only meant well? Well, of course you did. What you say? That it's all for the best? Ah of course it is. What you say? That it's just what we need? And you decided this. What you say?

What did she say?

Ransom notes keep falling out your mouth. Mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut-outs.Speak no feeling, no, I don't believe you.

You don't care a bit.

All we have, and all that we are, exist within the tones of tension that resonate from the relational ties we create. Like the strings from a violin, the music is all bound up here. It's all we can know. You, me, he... we. It is our identity. It's a give and take. Mutually defined, encircled by power plays and politics and vastly jarring notions of truth and love - we live in a world dictated by identities.

Now, my identity has been a continual process of give and take. But I will remember what I had to give up in order to take, and I will reclaim it when the time comes. And when I find my identity solidified again, I can only hope that I haven't lost too much.

And, I only speak to what is mine. Not yours. My journey. My map!

Eh, failure seems to loom quite near leh. How ah?

Dear God, remind me that as you are who you are, I am who I am.
No more and no less.
Instill in me the true sense that I cannot ask you to be anything else,
then what you are.
Teach me grace, faith and love.
Humility and strength, beyond the simple understanding of this world.
You have proven yourself faithful.
Now draw me near, even if it hurts.

在，有，是。

Now, instead of framing myself in terms of what I am not, I need to start seeing myself in terms of who I am.

Once again, it's a question of being. Be. Be-ing.

If I am simply identified by the residual of existence that is yet to be claimed and named, I then look only to darkness that the light has not yet touched.

I have my own light. I just need to know how and where it belongs.
As a city, on a hill.

break me!

And teach me to live life well.

It is easier to ask for forgiveness, then it is to ask for permission.

The way I see it, the Honour of the Crown was lost a long time ago, and I do not see how it can be sufficiently redeemed.

I think I take my angst out on systemic structures, while trying to love people. Which is why I think Hitler's image needs to be rehabilitated (if we cannot recognize his humanity how can we really atone our race?) while our modern social structures should burn in hell for their lack of equity, sympathy and genuinity. I think this is also how I can cast my eye at the Virginia Tech massacre, honour their brave, bleed with their wounded and still wonder, to what extent did society create this for themselves? We build the structures we exist in. It's all we have and it's all we are. Are we just going to close our eyes?

It's like brushing your teeth. You just do it everyday. It's just something you have to do. It's something you should do, as a human being. You don't get awards for brushing your teeth!
~ Roomie, on why she did not go to the Black Ball to be awarded for a ditty that she did in South Africa.

我想， 加拿大种族宽容政治效果是要把所有的“外国人”当成‘白人’。 但是，我们不是白人。另外的解决办法就是把我们弄成无形的实体。

如果你无法承认，看好我们， 和好好的把这些差异在心里和解好，就请告诉我： 除了我们上帝给你他的精神以外，我这么样有法对你尊敬？

如果你个人的世界观是这么狭小，你怎样能可以要求格外的世界大心的爱你？

To speak of freedom from a christian context, is never simply to speak of 'freedom from'. For this is only the beginning.

But now that we have had the chains lifted away, we can go. We now have freedom to finish the race that we've been called to run. And not sit back down in the same cell to watch TV.

Now it is to be free from the idea that my worth and measure of success is bound solely by stubby arms of 'the curve'. Have I always been such a slave to institutionalized academia that I cannot see beyond the gentle crest that rises ahead? Like I seem to be married to organized religion?

Now how do I claim freedom here, and make it true?

I remember...

that the difference between a blessing and a curse is the difference between love and selfishness.

But I cannot remember where I stand, or how I got here.

And I do not ask for sympathy.

...This place is a prison

Reading my property law textbook on aboriginal title moved me to tears. These people have such great strength of spirit and depth of culture. Our skyscrapers only magnify the shame that should be laid on our shoulders. And all around the world, peoples remain bleeding for decades of callous conquests.

Once that you've decided on a killing
First you make a stone of your heart
And if you find that your hands are still willing
Then you can turn a murder into art

There really isn't any need for bloodshed
You just do it with a little more finesse
If you can slip a tablet into someones coffee
Then it avoids an awful lot of mess

Now if you have a taste for this experience
And you're flushed with your very first success
Then you must try a twosome or a threesome
And you'll find your conscience bothers you much less

Because murder is like anything you take to
Its a habit-forming need for more and more
You can bump off every member of your family
And anybody else you find a bore

Now you can join the ranks of the illustrious
In history's great dark hall of fame
All our greatest killers were industrious
At least the ones that we all know by name

But you can reach the top of your profession
If you become the leader of the land
For murder is the sport of the elected
And you dont need to lift a finger of your hand

Because its murder by numbers, one, two, three
Its as easy to learn as your abc
Murder by numbers, one, two, three
Its as easy to learn as your a, b, c, d, e

Murder by Numbers - Sting

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The Constitution is a Living Tree

It's better to own ~ Joel Bennett