Part of living well and living happy, is learning to properly manage relationships, ensuring that you do not get into situations that are needlessly frustrating or beyond your ability to handle and commit.

It's a delicate skill. Like picking up egg yolk, and removing it from the white - without creating a mess.

This isn't about what you think it is.

No illusions here. I'm not that special. :)

Good lord I miss art! Words, music, and space.

I do remember why I left the stage. I found a deeper passion in the silent darkness of the soundroom then I did in the estatic flare of the parcans and fresnels. But sometimes, it's not enough to have your expression carried through another and I sometimes feel like the notes were snatched from my mouth just as they were budding on my tongue.

All this stupid stress, and all I want to do is create flowers with my hands, and paint them with my lips.

... and, thanks for this photo.

And my very close companion...

Ah we're lonely, we're romantic
and the cider's laced with acid
and the Holy Spirit's crying, "Where's the beef?"
And the moon is swimming naked
and the summer night is fragrant
with a mighty expectation of relief
So we struggle and we stagger
down the snakes and up the ladder
to the tower where the blessed hours chime
and I swear it happened just like this:
a sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss
the Gates of Love they budged an inch
I can't say much has happened since
but closing time

The whole damn place goes crazy twice
and it's once for the devil and once for Christ
but the Boss don't like these dizzy heights
we're busted in the blinding lights,
busted in the blinding lights
of closing time

...gets me fumbling gets me laughing

~L. Cohen :: Closing time

They are leaning out for love...

I will take you down to my place near the river, you can hear the boats go by and you can spend the night beside me. And you know that I'm half crazy, but that's why you want to be here. And I'll feed you tea and oranges that come all the way from China. And just when you mean to tell me that you have no love to give me, I'll get you on my wavelength and let the river answer: you've always been my lover.

And she wants to travel with you
And she want to travel blind
And she knows that she can trust you
For you've touched her perfect body with your mind.

& they will lean that way forever

L. Cohen :: Suzanne

Bold and beautiful choices are daily made, and with them, the spectre of consequence. I've never felt the need to be protected or to protect myself, and who needs insurance anyway? If my choices are the expression of my being, let them flow and drown me.

But I do giggle tenderly at the secret lunges that loved ones make for me, as if to catch me as I dance barefoot along the razor rocks sharpened by the sea. But they forget that this is my element, and that I have wings. And even so, if I do falter and hurt myself eventually, there is always grace.

So, let me love you, because this is what I'm here for.
And even if you don't, I already have.

It's no secret that I wrinkle my nose at the idea of Human Rights. But that doesn't mean that I don't respect the underlying spirit of the cause. I am reactionary and jealously guard against notions of alienating change and externally-inspired mutation, and when the Universal Declarations of Human rights was drafted when most of the world wasn't present, that poses a problem to me.

Now that doesn't mean that I'm all up for Female Circumcision/FGC (I hesitate to use the term FGM because I think it is a biased account on the situation), or stoning or other terrible terrible things that happen. But lets not get extreme here, in either direction. Recognize an inadequate stop gap measure as an inadequate stop gap measure. Acknowledge its propensity to wreck other forms of violence upon the community.

I've grown to believe that in the light of genocide and torture, cultural integrity should give way. But I am frequently reminded that there were moments when I didn't think this way - because to some people, there are somet hings worth dying for and I should not be speaking for them. Yes, to some people, life isn't the ultimate gift, but rather, is but a means for something other.

But anyway, I'm just cautioning against one-dimensional blanket approaches toward 'Human Rights' issues - blankets suffocate. And while I am not about to be indignantly waving around a piece of text that has supposed to reach some nebulous idea of Jus Cogen, I would be quick to moarn death and pain - indescriminately; becuase life does not discriminate. A bullet in one's head isn't text, and neither is hunger.

So here we are, with our limitations, our biases, fears and hidden agendas. Some glaring and some hidden even to our secret hearts. We want to see goodness realized, but not just any goodness - it has to be OUR goodness. So lets take our crude, hand-hewn tools and go forward humbly, knowing that in our weakness, we still sow evil in our attempts to heal. Maybe that way we can turn to each other for forgiveness.

I swear it happened just like this:

And my very sweet companion
she's the Angel of Compassion
she's rubbing half the world against her thigh
And every drinker every dancer
lifts a happy face to thank her
the fiddler fiddles something so sublime

I loved you for your beauty
but that doesn't make a fool of me:
you were in it for your beauty too
and I loved you for your body
there's a voice that sounds like God to me
declaring, declaring, declaring that your body's really you
And I loved you when our love was blessed
and I love you now there's nothing left
but sorrow and a sense of overtime
and I missed you since the place got wrecked
And I just don't care what happens next
looks like freedom but it feels like death
it's something in between, I guess
it's closing time

and it's partner found, it's partner lost
and it's hell to pay when the fiddler stops:
it's closing time

Yeah I missed you since the place got wrecked
By the winds of change and the weeds of sex
looks like freedom but it feels like death
it's something in between, I guess
It's closing time

a sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss

I'm coming to terms with the fact that I am selfish and greedy and not ready to give.

yet.

DEAR TRANSLINK - I'VE HAD IT


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Entry Type: Complaint
First Name: Hannah
Last Name: Lim
Street Address: XXXXXXXXX
City: Vancouver
Province: BC
Postal Code: V6R 2H1
Email: XXXXXXXXXXX
Contact Phone:XXXXXXXXXX
Alternate Phone:
Date of Incident: 12-07-2008
Time of Incident: 3:30p
Transit Mode: Bus
Vehicle Number:
Route Number: 17
Stop Number: 50357

Incident:

The bus just didn't come. Waited for 40 mins. And like I know you probably can't do anything about the fact that infrastructure in Canada is generally sub par, but it would be nice if, i mean if the bus breaks down, get a replacement one or something to service demand. Taking the bus should not be a stress inducing activity. But it really is. In my 6 years of living in Vancouver and dealing with Translink, I never feel confident that I can get to school/work on time because you never know when the bus will make it. It's kinda ridiculous really. So i don't really have a specific complaint but more of a general: you really need to get this act together - this isn't the first time. I mean come on, we're a developed nation, can we please not have developing country efficiency standards?

I love you!

And you... and you... and you... you too... and you...