So what�s it to you?
Success?

Is it weighted on my fears, guilt, or pleasure?

My triumph is my demise

and only when I cease to exist do I expand,
it�s an unlucky trade off,
but the benefits are undeniably good.

There has got to be something solid.
my soil is soiled and my roots are bent,
suffering from malnutrition
it�s got me down.

success is malnutrition
sucking the marrow from bones
with stacks of paper on the common ground
the in is larger than the out
no amount of fertilizer could make flowers grow

you are stumped
broken down and dumped
smashed to oblivion
and only for comfort and creativity.

so water what you believe is true,
weed the stems of your soul
and forgivenness might just be
your success.

I almost wish for one last winter storm so that I wont have to turn in my paper tomorrow because of office hours cancelation and I can take a break from this paper I have been working my ass off on titled

"I'd rather fuck who I want than kill who I am told to:" Women's rise to power in a world of porn.

It's all about pro-pornography feminism, women's bodies in the media, the fight for and against censorship and the fight against the hegemony to the plight of powerful women in the porn industry and bladididy blah how this has all lead to power of the femme.

A very ambitious topic, we had to chose our own, at first I chose hegemonic whiteness in the south and the discourse of rap music...

unfortunately I became bored and it was to self centered...and really had nothing to do with rap music, I felt it cried "white girl" instead of an educated stand against racism in the south.

Thus pornography.
and now at 11:20 the night before it is due I still feel like my paper is shit.

oh university why must you toil with me.

Sunday James and I went to a barbecue slash fire with all the kids from town we are getting to know. It was a success, though ironically me, the only vegetarian present ended up cutting up this huge hunk of brisket for the meat eaters who so cleverly tried to cook it whole, frozen and on stick over the fire.
James however pitched in with his ingenious brain and moved some flat rocks into the fire and then placed the meat on top to cook.

So our little meat eater friends had a blast.

I had a blast, I was just excited for any social opportunity really and that was a fantastic time with some really fantastic people.

Monday I woke up early and couldn't breathe right, James went off to work and proceeded to work on my paper and around 2:30 I headed off downtown to meet up at a peaceful sit in for the strife in Tibet.
The sit in was from sun up to sun down, unfortunately I had used the morning hours to try and be productive, which I was, slightly.
Elizabeth, however had been there since 6:30 that morning, what a dear, she had organized the sit in as well.
Over all it was a very productive sit in, two forms of local media came by and Elizabeth was able to get the word out about what we were there for.

Unfortunetly during the last hour, a war vet was walking through the park and was enraged, because our sit in was located in a public memorial space which happened to also be the space of the local war memorial. He was very angery and shouted at all of us sitting calming against the memorial "GET OUT ASSHOLES!"
He was very old and it was hard to understand him, he did proceed to leave, or so we thought, instead he went and found a large stick and came back shouting again saying he would beat us all whist shaking the stick, then he threw the stick at us and it hit Elizabeth and Pema the only two of us with Asian descent Pema's parents Tibetan and Elizabeth's father Laotian.

Pema was holding the Tibetan flag, crying and barely flinched when the stick was thrown, tears streaming down her face in pain and fear.

It was awful, and that we were simply there promoting peace...
unfortunately we will never be able to understand where he was coming from, we can only feel empathy for him and for the Tibetans.

Most of us where enraged, but anger was going to get us no where.

All I could shout in fear was "But we are promoting peace!"

In in his brain all he felt was hostility because to him we were violating the memories of those lost in the past wars and whether he was senile or not he was pained.

James is at another fire tonight, I almost wish I had gone, but I had work to do.

I still feel like I will never get it done.

So it has finally happened.
The snow is almost melted away and the trees have barely begun their budding.

I need this place to show me some signs of life,

and oh yes the birdies are singing now, but my soul is just heavy now.

I can't tell the difference in me or in you, the sun of the moon

because I've borrowed part of you and given you part of me

you are too beautiful for me
and I love you.

I think my transition has been too harsh.
My soul has brought new aspects into my literature that didn't exist before, or if they did it was more subtle, dainty more poetic.

I have since, grown callous and blunt in my mannerisms, i have become apathetic to human nature and instead have found myself almost betrothed to myself.

I feel my self expression has become limited. I don't force myself to do anything that isn't whim, but my whim it's self has become cumbersome.

Over loaded with time, and displaced by the thoughts of who I really am and have I really taken my liberties to their fullest.
Have I benefited myself, and my situation as an ever choosing being, have I taken the right steps to insure that I can forever live a life of choice?

I think it is time I start setting my standards and writing about my morals.

Maybe when I wont crumble when my emotions strike hard.

Maybe then they wont strike because I have simply chosen to feel another way, not indifferent mind you, just not so, so out of control.

How bout that....

Tomorrow is beautiful or today rather. hopeful the snow will all melt away.

i want to lay in some grass, i find the weather extremely distracting, making it difficult for me to study economics. I am trying to get this assignment done early so i don't have to worry about it, but i am a proven failure.


as it happens
the world turns
their scent leaves your clothes
their body is no longer pressed against yours in confined ecstasy
your brow is dry
your mind full
it might help if the heart stopped beating
if the soul could separate it's self from the blood
if the eye could float on the wind
fly like a bird
be swallowed by the sun
spat out into the sea
swept away on the waves
tears mixing with the salt water
turning the sea a true true blue
spreading inhibitions and doubt about with the array of fish carcasses
surfacing from poison tears
bobbing like marshmallows
smelling like salt and sunshine
just floating to eternity
beaching on the sand.
carried by a crab that is eaten by a pelican
getting caught in an oil spill and removed from the sea
lab tested saved, yet tainted coated in an iridescent making everything cloudy and hard to see
wings as slick as polyurethane
content to lie and blink for eternity
musing off of smoky colorful images.

i really shouldn't drink alone in my room anymore, it makes me forget to shut the bathroom door and for random people to see my bush and turn in fear.

oh the bush of hillery, it's a great bush.

i scare people when i write them e-mail late at night. I just want them to know their voice/writen text is appreciated, it's no reason to run and hide.
i guess i am too forward.
i just love writing things and writing people, feels pretty damn amazing i think, but i really wouldn't know right now. I am drinking gingerale and gin alone in my shoe box.
it was Elizabeth's birthday stuffs tonight, all went well except that I was totally broke, hence the drinking in the shoe box.
james concluded he was too high to go out, so i went alone with Willie and Nathan, I felt awkward most of the night consideriing I don't know most of the local kids, which is kinda changing.
i try to get the guts to introduce myself to everyone, even though i end up feeling more awkward, but i think it is workiing
or at least paying off a little bit.
i really like hanging out with Elizabeth, she's the best girl i know right now and i am really grateful for that, uber grateful.
i just hope that people don't find me too weird when they catch me looking at them. I just like to look at them.
all their facal structures are so new and their habits are different to me, which i find overly interesting and spend long periods of time watching there every move.

i love it and i totally have the hicups bad man and my lips are dry and i have really bad posture and i am listening to clem snide like always. it is sad because they are getting more attention now and i don't want to share.

i really shouldn't do this anymore, should at least invite someone into my box.
i can't even keep my head up, and i can't wait to sleep and dream, because this green tv like static behind my eye lids is pretty and i am tempted to never open my eyes again.

i guess i'll just sleep till morning and see what tomorrow is like.

ginko trees where always my favorite.
It is snowing again, I really can't wait till spring with all this weather trickery, I get my hopes up only to be disapponted the next day.

my room smells like lemons and i can feel my blood running through my veins.

I have been busy evading school work all day.

I am painting a picture of what looks to be two robots dancing, but i can't be sure at this point, they are still in the fetus stage.

Today is the second day of my cleanse.
I promised myself this year, I am going to fill my time with productivity.

I kinda just feel like dancing.

I can't really make complete thoughts It feels different that last year, I am also not having as much trouble.

So Elizabeth is turning 21 and we are having this huge bonanza weekend continuing on to saint patricks day.

can't really party on the cleanse, alcohol would probably kill me.
but i'll have fun none the less, get to meet some new folks and dance.
dancing is what i really want.

So only a few weeks left of classes.
Man the semesters here in Canada are so short, I'm not used to getting out till may.

I am not a very good demensional painter.

I am sorry I always uppset you in the middle of the night so you can't sleep.

I'll make it up to you some how.

you know who I am, and here you've all I've got to talk to.

i am totally drunk right now
i just spent some time talking to kim on the internet i miss her a lot sometimes
she went to bed cause of day light savings
then i went out side and chain smoked 7 cigaretts one of my neighbors offered me a doobie...but my feet froze waiting on him to come back and i decided it wasn't worth it.
i am so nastalgic right now, we are in the middle ofa winter storm so so so muc hsnow,
my fet are so cold

i like to drink in my room my show box
im going have to stop now cause i can't type.

i am giddy and weird

i love my man and i miss him to death i wish hed come over right now and hold me till i pass out
ive drank too much gin
way too much

sometimes i wish i was the same kid i used to be
maybe i am, maybe i amn't
im not totally sure
i wish the snow would stop and i could go to the beach
sleep on the beach swim in warm waters and touch jelly fish

i'll be tweenty one this year
i am sucha baby
listening to the same music i have since adolesence touch my little soul and i forgot about jesus

what do we do with souls like ours?
except our existenstial fredom?
take on the responsibility of all man?
choose for the greater good?
are my morals the right morals/
are my dreams something that all man should abide by?
im not sure
are you?

"i never meant to clip your pretty wings...

you always knew me you saw right through me
so why'd you have to go?"

i have to write an essay
i am too self consumed to do what need

i've run out of board meals for the week and i dont think i can afford to eat in the caf tomorrow, thats okay though cause my shoe box is nice and i have granola like a good hippie i will eat my granola and smile.
and think about all the hippies and their garnola

drink some tea to bring me back to conciousness if i ever wake up to eat my granola i hope i don't have any sex dreams about girls tonight

that has been happening a lot latly it's nice but im tired of eatinig pussy in my sleep.

adolesence is a beautiful except it and love it, i miss being sixteen and i miss fleetwood mac

beaches

my old pals

and worrying about jesus loving me.

miss the way my gut felt when i stopped eating

and the way my skin smelt

it was gross smelling but i still remember it

i love that i have my long hair back
and my little square bangs even if my mother doesnt

ii like my little budah belly
but i don't

i miss my old skin and soul
but its not lost only sleeping i guess

only sleeping

"cause now its on"
and i have a nice bush of my own

*i wouldnt be able to see your face if it was right in front of me, but i hcan smell your sweat and that's okay because it is familiar to me
it makes my nostrils flair and my body twing with satisfaction

they call you my baggage but i love you and i want you like i never did before, darling."