going home?

a monumental up week: didn't tell anyone and went up island for four days to nit nat lake. swallowed a few bugs the first night but got a breezy spot looking out on the beach for the rest. walking alone up a river, thinking about bears, a giant dog rushes out of the bushes and jumps on me. oh my heart. his owner laughed and called him off: "Tiger!" other than that i was completely alone on my walk through the giant dinosaur forest. went swimming amoung river jellyfish. wrote extensively about fire and its effects, since we spent at least a third of the time watching ours. roasted marshmallows and hot dogs to his absolute disgust. ran out of beer. launched kites, caught kites, followed kites up and down the beach, met a nice british guy who did tricks on the water and taught me to launch, flew a trainer kite with his girlfriend. had coffee on the beach, calm glass lake and seals, every morning with him. made two big decisions, on very big. guess i just needed some space to decide.

yesterday: mowed, clipped, washed, moved branches around. staked and tied all of my tomato plants and my poor flimsy dahlias with tied together branches and thick white string from his shed. felt i was putting my children in straight jackets. my first tomato appeared, then i found three more. smaller than my pinky nail, green, a burst of life that i grew with my own patience and hands. something anyone but myself would miss.

today: an unexpected day job.

time for revolution

an unbelievable week. my disappointment in the north american human race has escalated and nears bursting point. the battle between good and evil continues. i scrape off a layer of naivite and beneath discover a hard layer of distrust. i never thought i would be victimized by the legal system and by other canadians to the point of being kicked out into the f'ing streets. no one cares about kids, or pets, or plants. it is all profit and squirmy, slimy, evil, sexually repressed assholes and women on power trips. f'in hell i am disapointed. and somehow still making the most of it. though it appears that in this society evil is rewarded, my belief in karma gets me through. i wrap my white wings around myself and build up strength.

the big step

that was the week i came to realize my impending financial destitution. last night i scraped a dime off the floor of a convenience store. i must ascend above my fear of a job sucking away my time and self and stoically proceed to sell myself part-time at least. i am not real-world enough and it is a weakness. making some dollars here and there helps significantly. I much prefer it to the predictable world of pay cheques.

i am perpetually conflicted with my desire to be truthful and the outer demons which coax me into mediocrity, cliché, and expected behavior. i chopped off my hair this week and i already feel closer to myself. torn between this action being vain or an act of un-attachment. I was told that i was concentrating very hard when yoda spoke in the movie the other night, and its true. how lame.

trying to decide which modernist painting i should write on, really want to write on Duchamp's "explosion in a shingle factory" as one critic puts it. i think its perfect.

read about Sartre and De Beauvoir all morning in bed with black ,black coffee. I am far too hooked on reading biographies of writers. I think I have read ten this year. I wish I could read everything at once. I need to push myself towards devotion. entire devotion to only walks, reading, writing, and spending no money. going to start to sell off my belongings. I need to get off all of theses “ideas” and act. “If man is nothing he can only justify himself by doing.”

alternate lives

woke up on the couch this morning, slept there to give and get space and rest. though i didn't get rest. he is so happy to sleep alone, it hurts. self-pity. i drank a bottle of wine by myself, a chai soy candle burning. an electric switch in my brain turned on and led me through strange dreams. had dreams like those i did as a child, in which i surrendered myself entirely and forgot that it was a dream, more like sleepwalking through another reality. both began with a vision of myself where i was sleeping, then waking. one, i look out the window and he has left a fire blazing near the shed. i am terrified and i wake up afraid of the dark like i haven't been in years. the other i wake up to mist shrouded mountains and a hill next to me. it is early and i decide to get up and walk up the hill. at the top is my sister, in a building i have never seen, with two men i have never seen. his head, plump and dead, hangs around her neck on a thick gold chain. i stare at it. she talks about it and the two men look at her as if she is crazy. she walks with me for a while and then must go. it is so good to see her, even in a dream.

i feel as if i can't find any time for myself, though that is the most popular complaint around here and i have no right to it. once the legal crap settles things should look up, but i know there will always be something. i see now that it is so easy to look after only your own life. i feel lazy and selfish and i know this year i really have to work. forget about the fiddle, the drums, day trips, daydreaming. especially daydreaming. work and write.

wanother

oh hooray another drunkan blog do the little people say who live in the other world, the bottom half who dream about these words but do not get to read them. a house fly is dying on my keys as i type, he is dying so quickly that he does not move very quickly as i move toward the f, the h, the l, the ;. he has given up the fight. imagine a time when a house fly is more noble than any common american, and yes we are amoung them.

i am thinking about him. about how i think that he can not not be alive in me. (i almost stamped out the fly by hitting the "E") anything in me that beats and wails proclaims that he is alive, maybe even more alive than me. everything in me tells me he is alive. but i know that he is not. so i know that i must lie to myself. can anyone give me another conclusion?