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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. What's the deal with feeling so alone? |
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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." |
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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. |
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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. |
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SCHLSGH. INSOMNIA HAS CREPT INTO ME ONCE AGAIN. BHRK. KHEH. ONE OF US CAN'T BE WRONG AND NONE OF YOU CAN KNOW. I AM SITTING IN MY LIVING ROOM WITH JOSHIE AND AVERY DOING A LOT OF COCAINE. FUCK, I DONT EVEN WANT TO FINISH THIS DREAM. RIDICULOUS! |
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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 |
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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." This is not like crimson and clover. This is the worst feeling you have ever had. The worst smell imaginable. 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 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. |
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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. |
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Songs of my life: So Long Marianne- Leonard Cohen to be continued... |
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I dont know what the idea was but, shit son. Im at work. There was an all hands meeting. There was 2-3 bottles of champagne each opened at 11am. this is hilarious. im hammed. every few minutes i hear a big POP followed by cheering. yeah intuit canada |
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Intrinsically, I don't know who I am. Mostly because of my erratic stand still dream chasing. It's most ridiculous. I am a plague of a lifestyle. I come baring dried exotic fruits and treasure maps. I help build a ship of a lifetime, then get drunk on rum and burn it to the ocean floor. Sad thing is, I know how to swim. I live while my future drowns in our leverage. My booty collects in masses, but due to my constant travel, and where I am, the swag is trivial. Alas, the pirates' life is the life for me, and alas, us cowboys are always alone. |
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Cowboys ain't easy to love and they're harder to hold. They'd rather give you a song than diamonds or gold. Lonestar belt buckles and old faded levis, And each night begins a new day. If you don't understand him, an' he don't die young, He'll prob'ly just ride away. Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys. Cowboys like smokey old pool rooms and clear mountain mornings, Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys. |
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The body’s a temple That’s what we’re told I treated this one like an old honky tonk Greasy cheeseburgers And cheap cigarettes One day they’ll get me if they ain’t got me yet, 'cause (Chorus) My friends all grew up (Chorus) I’m always runnin’, son-of-a-gunnin’ Oh yeah… (Chorus x 2) Yeah I need to rewind real slow… |
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My friend Don, who's "almost" in his senior year, whom I house sit for often, was going to take me to the Arrogent Worms. His close friend Willy (who I knew as well) just died recently. He had some mental issues and he lived on campus in B.C. and he went for a walk 2 weeks ago and got lost so he went to sleep on the side walk and he never woke up. He was suppose to visit Don this week, but you know, he couldn't make it, and Don had bought 2 tickets for them to go see the show. He called me the other night explaining the story and asked if I would go with him since he had an extra ticket. Naturally I said yes. My mom was on the phone and she doesn't answer beeps, so when he called wondering where I was there was no one there. He left a message asking me if I was comming saying he had to leave shortly to make it. It's outside of the city and started 24 minutes ago, so I don't know if I can make just to appologize to his face. I'm horrible. |
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I suddenly feel uber sick. I'm coughing hard and getting really hot. Plus my belly ring is infected and gross. I feel like a wild animal. |
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I just had the most beautiful cigarette break. I got to sit in a field, although alone, the sun was incredible and it warmed my face and lightened me 50000000000000000000000000000000000 times. That works. Oh summertime, where hast thou gone? |
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Dhillon says: What's your plan? glad girls only wanna get you high. says: como? Dhillon says: Well, it's almost that time of year again. What you gon' do? glad girls only wanna get you high. says: what time? Dhillon says: Summertime Dhillon says: you know, when the livin is easy and hedonism is free? |
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You left me maudlin fawning over the thought of your lips on my pelvis.
My bed's wet, our sweats dry, and my room smells like sex still.
Lovin me 2 times just ain't enough let's go for 8, get stoned, and eat caramel cheesecake.
And soon I get too drunk to fuck, but that's alright, if I could speak i'd say "You look cute." Goddamn, I love random sex plan with you, girl anytime, anywhere, anytime, anywhere.
Lovin' me 2 times just aint enough, let's go for 8, get stoned, and eat caramel cheesecake. Lovin' me 2 times just aint enough but i'm drunk and I think sex still looks cute.
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