?

Log in

Belief · is · Creation

Recent Entries · Archive · Friends · Profile

* * *
I guess I made this friends only from here on in. Holla back.
* * *
Sobriety gives you an incredibly eye opening experience. Going out to shows and bars is creepy when you're sober. You see so much more go down. That's not very good thing sometimes.

As it turned out I was DD tonight. First went to Humtys for coffee and then to Riverdale show. It was packed with hormonal 12-15 year olds. I was really confused. They're all effing freaks. They're so young, yet unbelievably concerned with their countenance. I really do not believe I was like that. Then again I was too drunk to care. I was pretty much alone all night except for when Justine came to my pimping ride for a smoke.
After I drove my brother home, I took Rue and Kelti to another show that was suppose to be some wicked beatboxers and dj people funkin it up, but it turned out to be a rave. Concession was pretty sweet though; for $5 you could get a weed or hash brownie or chocolate covered mushrooms, and for $20 it was all you could drink and all you can eat. I couldn't handle it sober so I ditched those who I couldn't find to say goodbye to.

What's the deal with feeling so alone?
Why does my mind think this fair?
Fuck, the wretch I am.
* * *
Boo Yeah



"We held hands on the last night on earth. Our mouths filled with dust, we kissed in the fields and under trees, screaming like dogs, bleeding dark into the leaves. It was empty on the edge of town but we knew everyone floated along the bottom of the river. So we walked through the waste where the road curved into the sea and the shattered seasons lay, and the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease. In our cancer of passion you said, "Death is a midnight runner." The sky had come crashing down like the news of an intimate suicide. We picked up the shards and formed them into shapes of stars that wore like an antique wedding dress. The echoes of the past broke the hearts of the unborn as the Ferris wheel silently slowed to a stop. The few insects skittered away in hopes of a better pastime. I kissed you at the apex of the maelstrom and asked if you would accompany me in a quick fall, but you made me realize that my ticket wasn't good for two. I rode alone. You said, "The cinders are falling like snow." There is poetry in despair, and we sang with unrivaled beauty, bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence, of blue and grey. Strange, we ran down desperate streets and carved our names in the flesh of the city. The sun was stagnated somewhere beyond the rim of the horizon and the darkness is a mystery of curves and lines. Still, we lay under the emptiness and drifted slowly outward and somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation scratched into the earth like a message."
* * *
Dear life,

Good job.

Love,

Dylan

I got accepted into VaughanVillage. June 5th is my flight to some random destination in Europe, then I Eurorail to Madrid. Classes start June 5th in Madrid for the intensive Spanish course. After i'm done there I go to _______ to teach english (VV). Then I fuck around the madrid clubs followed by Barcelona and the Costa Blanca. If I feel like it I can go to Lyon and Paris via eurorail with my wonderous flexipass. Who knows what will happen after that. Boo yeah motherfucker.

* * *
Sometimes I am stricken with this overwelming depression and hate for myself as well as my life. Sometimes it's easy to pass it on, and sometimes it just will not leave me and I cannot get it out of my head. My body starts to hurt and I get shifty. I think about 10 wonderful things a second and it still will not leave. Then I want a drink. When I do have a drink (which always lead to at least a few) this feeling is gone. Not even guilt is left in me. During my binge I never let this out, but I never slept until I passed out, and if I didn't pass out, I wouldn't sleep, so I just kept drinking and smoking until I couldn't see or function in the slightest way. Good times.
* * *
* * *
SCHLSGH. INSOMNIA HAS CREPT INTO ME ONCE AGAIN. BHRK. KHEH.

ONE OF US CAN'T BE WRONG AND NONE OF YOU CAN KNOW.
MY DREAMS ARE RIDICULOUS.

I AM SITTING IN MY LIVING ROOM WITH JOSHIE AND AVERY DOING A LOT OF COCAINE.
I MEAN A SERIOUS AMOUNT, MORE THAN I'VE SEEN BEFORE. I GUESS WE PICKED UP A ROCK THE SIZE OF A FIST AND AST THERE ON THE FLOOR CRUSHING IT ON THE TABLE DOING LINE AFTER LINE. COP CAR LIGHTS START FLASHING SO NATURALLY WE PUT ON OUR SHOES AND BOOK IT OUT THE BACK DOOR LEAVING THE BLOW BEHIND. THE COPS ARE ALREADY OUTBACK. THEY LET JOSHIE AND AVERY GO BUT ARREST ME. THEY TAKE ME TO THIS GYMNASIUM LIKE ROOM WITH A HORRIBLY CONSTRUCED STAGE. THERE ARE SOME CHAIRS AND A MICROPHONE ON STAGE. THE FLOOR IS FILLED WITH FOLDABLE CHAIRS AND A SPEAKER ON EITHER SIDE OF THEM. I SIT ON STAGE AS TOLD TO DO AND THE ROOM SLOWLY FILLS. I AM PUT ON TRIAL VERY SIMILRAILY TO K. I AM NOT THERE BECAUSE OF COCAINE, BUT THEY WILL NOT EXPLAIN WHY. THERE IS MANY MEDIA PEOPLE THERE. THE TRIAL CONTINUES TO MAKE NO SENCE AND I GO ALONG WITH IT BECAUSE THESE PEOPLE COME OFF AS VERY SERIOUS INDIVIDUALS. I DONT REMEMBER HOW IT ENDS OR WHAT QUESTIONS I WAS ACTUALLY ASKED, BUT IT ENDS, AND WE WALK OFF STAGE. I AM TAKEN INTO A BACK ROOM. I AM THEN LED BY THE PEOPLE ON STAGE INTO A CRAWL-SPACE-LIKE ATTIC. THEY ALL START LAUGHING AND CONGRATULATING EACHOTHER. I ASK WHATS GOING ON AND THEY PULL OUT A JOINT AND SAY CONGRATS, YOU'VE PASSED. tHEY THEN EXPLAIN HOW THEY ARE A GROUP OF ACTORS AND WANTED TO SEE IF I WAS A GOOD ACTOR AND WOULD JOIN THEIR CREW. I NATURALLY AND ENTHUSIASTICALLY SAID YES. THEY ASK ME TO CRAWL DOWN AND SHUT A WINDOW TO HOT BOX THE ATTIC. I DO SO, BUT WHEN I GET BACK THEY ARE ALL GONE. NOTHING.
SO I LEAVE AND FLOAT OVER A BEAUTIFUL RIVER WEARING A LONG WHITE DRESS AND SPRINKLE FROST ON THE GROUND. TURNS OUT I HAVE A SIDEKICK NOW...AKA KENNEDY STEWART FROM JR HIGH. SHE FLIES OVER TO ME CRYING TELLING ME I KILLED ALL THE PENGUINS.

FUCK, I DONT EVEN WANT TO FINISH THIS DREAM.


RIDICULOUS!
* * *
Kudos...
To the only Jewish, Greek, born and raised in Montreal, cowboy with guns, poet, lover, and Bob Dylan enthusiast I have ever heard of.

I love you LC

* * *
On the Island I swam at least once a week in the ocean. Fully submerged like a fetus in the womb. Part of everything, while everything is more a part of me. After birth or a sandy towel dries my body, I am expelled from the universe. You don't need outer space to float free. Warm and natural. Water is magnificent.
Suzanne is the last song my Dad played for me before he left. Everything comes around and everything lives. We can walk thru walls and we can fly, we just don't pay attention to the way things really are. We are oblivious to what feats we can really accomplish. We are all superheroes. /Jesus was a sailor/ when he walked upon the water/ and spent a long time watching from his lonely wooden tower/ and when he knew for certain only drowning men could see him/ he said all men will be sailors then until the sea shall free them/. Travel blind.
Addiction never quits.
If you become addicted, you are always addicted, but you can slowly replace and subside the desire and craving. You can find Jesus while I find myself. I will read Leonard Cohen and you can read the Bible. I think alcoholics tend to be people who have sen some real truth and some real beauty that they created and destroyed and knew it was happening the whole time. They just wouldn't stop. Sometimes it's just so good, so you go fast and you go blind. You just love in such an honest way you feel that this is all that exists. And then one faithfull day you are doing your research and you catch a look, let's say at Marianne, and suddenly you are milk and honey. A few days, weeks, months, or years into Marianne you realize that you've broken up and broken down without seeing where you really are; exmining the carpet and how badly it needs a haircut from slouching on your piano stool, realizing that the piano has been drinking and you are colour blind, but even your acid flashbacks lost their colour months ago and your wearing pinstripes anyways. All the bar stools are on fire when you're sitting at the bar drinking vodka because you can't afford the extra dollar to buy whiskey. It's mostly your fault, still though, because you wont drink the cheap whiskey. Racing downtown listening to Nick Drake you come to the bearable truth that you are depressed and you've been smoking too long, just like him. You'll hug your steering wheel when the devil tells you that it is Leonard Cohen and you think he needs a hug. The angel on your other shoulder tells you the steering wheel is actually Napoleon Bonaparte and, taken aback, you let go, and not knowing what to do you open the door and jump out. You feel lucky comming to the conclusion that its 6 o'clock on a sunday morning and not even those crazy church goers are out quite yet. When walking in the dark streets you are baffled when you become intimate with the feces on the sidewalk, and, not knowing if believing is a blessing or a curse, you fall asleep. You wake up just in time to not get away from the cop who is running full force towards you with a dog, who hasn't slept in days, and looks like it got into the cocaine stash. You are far too aware of how drunk you still are, because you honestly do not remember what being sober feels like. Without a clue of what to do you stay on your stomach and start sing "Hey there people i'm Bobby Brown/ they say i'm the cutest boy in town/" The cop is handcuffing you. "My car is fast/ my teeth is shiney/ I tell all the girls they can kiss my hiney/" In an attempt to shut you up the testosterone ridden ex wrestler cop kicks you in the teeth. This makes Frank Zappa a little bit harder to sing. "Here I am at a fancy school/ I'm dressin sharp and Im acting cool/ I got a cheerleader here who wants to help with me paper/ Let her do all the work and maybe later ill rape her" They read you your rights and in reply you say "Oh god I am the american dream/ I do not think i'm too obscene" And the cops says " Son, I think the family of the mother you just ran over would have some kinduh other opinion."
Maybe it's sad that your only response to that is, "They dun' exist, and niether does my foot"

"I am an alcoholic, a drug addict, and a criminal."
Over and over.
"I am an alcoholic, a drug addict, and a criminal."

This is not like crimson and clover.

This is the worst feeling you have ever had. The worst smell imaginable.
But life is beautiful right? So go smoke a joint and shut up.

I didn't know it was wrong. I don't know what happened to lead to that, after all, it was I who was drinking absinthe out of the bottle like kerosine, not you sister. Muy perdido. No se.

I'm a little bit country, i'm a litle bit rock'n'roll.

Sing me to sleep
sing me to sleep
im tired and I want to go to bed
sing me to sleep
sing me to sleep
and then leave me alone
dont try to wake me
in the morning
cuz I will be gone
dont feel bad for me
i want you to know
deep in the cellar of my heart
i will feel so glad to go
sing me to sleep
sing me to sleep
i dont want to wake up on my own any more
sing me to sleep
sing me to sleep


One part not knowing if the pirate life is the life for me, one part you mother smells of elderberry cocktail. It doesn't taste good to me. I need citrus. Too much dried meat and salt. Citrus please. It's alright, i'm a hippy, right? I get my fruit and veggies, im good to go.

Update=the pretty boys are back in town. revised. not edited, re-written.

We use to get drunk and have sex in the back of his car. Ha.

Quiero ser en espana/con pajaros y me guitara. Con amor y marijuana. Con dia y noche. con me vida.

Chris Robinson. Goddamn I wanna boink him.

Fuck. Sedated Youth.

My thoughts have broken up. Im done.
* * *
I'M TIRED.

BRUTA, CIEGA, SORDOMUDA
TORPE, TRASTE, TESTARUDA

* * *
Saturday Tyler and I went driving around doing this and that. Then we got callled that a sunday night show needed another band. We went and got my old band (the pirates) to do it up. Last night I ended up playing too. It was super fun, but scratchy. Yeah. I need my own backup band. Real bad. Stand up bass. Autoharp. keyboard. jazz drummer. someones gotta play harmaonica too.

I quit drinking.

* * *
* * *

Previous