As I walk back between Champlain and Lady Eaton, the melting snow and the dripping sky around me I can't help but feel I am somewhere else, every moment a new moment.

I love walking in the night alone, but for some reason for a fleeting moment i felt like crying.
That's the one thing about the rag that I hate, I feel so apparent, out of place...undesirable.

Like a large blob covered in little feelers, wanting to touch and feel everything very moment, suck it in, suck it dry.

I look into others too much, and I like skin to much

I keep having these lucrative sex dreams, about people I'm not having sex with.
James and I have just come to the point were we can talk about these.
He get's really nervous, I think he feels guilty or something,
but I'm not worried about the subconscious, in fact the sole idea and mere thought that he has sex dreams about other people comforts me.
I'm weird, but it's true.

I love that when I bleed, I do feel so many things.
All I want to do is feel, it overwhelms me, but it's true.

All I want is to feel and make you feel.

So's I made it down, flew down to visit la famile during reading week.
It was difficult, tiring, long, and overwhelming...
I still can't decide if it was worth the effort.
But hey it was fun, gots to see the mom and pops, brothers and grnadmother too.

Oh man, I have the piece of cotton from a cotton swab stuck in my right ear.
shit.

I guess that's what I get for being overly hygenic these days...I wonder how I am going to get that out of there?

In other news I am back in Canada, longing for some movement, got so many places I wanna go.

I want to go road trippin to Saint George Island I want to go back to Ashville, I want to go visit Kelly Montreal and then go on to experience the East Coast of Canada, I want to go to Mexico and the uk....
I just want to travel, my heart longs to move
and fuck.

amidst all those thoughts of wonderful places, I thought to myself how really all i want right now is to get off the rag and have really really sloppy sex, forever.

just fuck, fuck, fuck and never come down.

And then travel.
I have to make out a budget, I get a portion of money, that is left over from my student loan in April that I could possibly use, though I really should be getting a job this summer to make some kind of dint in loans, but i so want to travel first, It's probably easier to go to Saint George or move towards the East coast of Canada first, stopping in kingston, ottowa, montreal, quebec city going out to new brunswick and price edward island maybe drifting out into Nova Scotia and then maybe go into Main and vermont massachusetts and then New York State, sounds gold to me.

I can't get this cotton out of my ear which is a definet problem.

it makes my heart burn to hear you.
I am ashamed I didn't recognize your voice, but it's changed.

You sounded so matter of fact, when you called. Like a sales person.

All I wanted to do was talk to you until you relaxed, then maybe I could recognize you.
but I couldn't.
now my gut is in my throat and it's me who can't relax.

you are all it takes for me to stop breathing.
all my memories of you flash in my brain as you say your name.

I feel hot then cold, then I miss you.

You where part of my adolescence, you were part of the soul that shaped me.

and that the whole country is between us makes me feel at ease, somewhat, like I might survive.

i didn't think you listened to him anymore.

To be in close proximity to you, would probably kill me. I wouldn't be able to handle it because you'd be so far away.
I'd have to get to know you again,

because I can't recognize you behind your mask.

I want to wash your face, and wash away all this, it feels like you've repressed who you are, but I don't know,
I don't know you anymore.
you don't know me.

How could we turn out so differently?

Or maybe we were never the same.

now I am a zombie and it will take me days to get your face and your smell out of my brain and I don't care if I feel poetic or not.

Now all I feel is regret.

KT, I regret.

"The lights are off again
She took me by surprise
She's so sensitive
This shit just happens sometimes
She's my everything
She's my best friend and more
We don't do anything
We didn't do the day
Before you go
You oughta know
That I didn't mean to hurt you, I just wanted you to know
Black tears are falling down her face
And I am wrong
Black tears are falling and she won't say what I've done
She's sitting here beside me, then she is gone
Black tears are falling, falling
Remember long ago
Together laughing, loving
Oh so long ago
When we were buying something
Life was simple then
But she's not happy now, and I
Don't feel anything
Her lips are moving
I am mesmerized
By tiny lies
I'm watching as the shapes are drawing slowly from her eyes"
-ben folds

Desire is a flighty thing
with wings and fins and tails and strings.

Productivity yet
a heart still sings to yield
to it's most unconventional dreams

To smite it still
is to simply conceive
that desire exist solely as fantasy.

and what is birthed
from thoughts that pass,
samely as a heart does beat

is more than rest and leave
of these opressionistic seeds

So when a mind and love exist the same,
the brain does function in it own name

This thought associated with truth and shame
Learned is concealed by that of commercial blain.