In a Blur of Smoke & Uncertainty...

Drinks anyone?

2005-02-01T00:31:00.000-05:00

Came home Saturday night from Van Gogh's Ear (a bar downtown which is wittingly named after the ear which V.G. chopped off himself and sent to his friend's prostitute i believe...something like that).

It was freezing outside but i was still warm from the remenants of vodka and chinese food which we stumbled into on our journey home. The "magic bus" was packed with other inebriated young bodies and (since i'm not the "standing-up-on-the-bus" kinda lady) i settled myself on on of my roomate's lap and rested my head on the yellow standing pole while she spoke of my earings and the importance of firm handshakes.

Around 2ish the three of us spilled out of the bus... i glided alongside C. over the wet pavement, dropping laughter along the slush lined walkway as we watched H. prancing wildely ahead of us and at the fact that every 10 minutes or so, one of us would let out a drunken burp...

We fell in through the back door and shed layers of the night along with our clothing as we tumbled through the living room and into the kitchen. i held my shirt with my pinky and left my jeans somewhere on the stairs with C's while H had all her belongings crumpled into a tight rump against her tummy. The muddled dance from the club ended abruptly on the floor of my room where C and H and I collapsed onto the warm carpet and giggled in a heap of arms and ankles as we stared at a spinning ceiling.

Slowly they each picked themselves up and crawled into their own rooms...and i managed to swat at the light as i stripped the remanents of white lace off my skin and drop onto my red jersey sheets.

Sleep came quickly...

2004-11-19T21:24:00.000-05:00

sitting here sippin' cointreau cause i'm classy like that...

only not so much cause you're supposed to drink it with cream over ice and i'm just taking back shots from this stupid little sampler bottle that i stole from my friends house cause it's early but i'm tired and needed something to blur the world for me tonight

And i ordered the weed and it's getting delivered but won't be here for about another hour or two and that's too long to wait tonight....

2004-11-03T14:32:00.000-05:00

"A Moment"

What were we saying? What were we thinking?

Not sure...can't remember. But there is was...there they always are.

In the real world, there is no such thing as poetry

2004-11-01T20:55:00.000-05:00

Hmmm...

So Halloween was pretty good for the first time in Xandi-halloween history.

I was a hoe. Yep, that's right. A genuinely hot mafia-skank. Don't blame me...it was mandatory.

No, really. Ash was having this "pimp 'n' hoe/red-light district" theme party at her place in Brock U. So we went and skanked it up....it was the only thing to do. And honestly i gotta say, it really does feel great to have a gun tucked into your garder belt and fishnets. You can't feel anything other then dramatically sexy. And it comes with the automatic desire to have ridiculously wild sex...all the time...anywhere. It's a fishnet thing. I doubt you'd understand.

so now what?

hm.

Sitting here with a complete lack of inspiration. Drinking a half-empty bottle of yesterday's water. Though...i kinda like it that way. You know when the bottle's been closed and sitting on your window ledge all night so that now it's got that bit of steamy persperation on the inside of the bottle? And the water itself is a bit bubbly-looking? And it seems a lot colder then when you drank it fresh from the fridge yesterday. But still...tastes a little musty. Well, whatever, i know that doesn't really sound very good but i still think it's kinda yummy. But my taste in food and drinks are not often the kind of thing that many other people understand anyways. I mean, i absolutely love everything from a can. Everything. Chef Boyardee rocks my world. And anything even remotely related to that alpabet tomato stuff...oh man. Have you ever really realized how many imitations of that there are anyways?? I mean...you can have tomato simpsons, powerpuff girls, spongebob.

wow. this is getting to be quite a ridiculous post.

Speaking of ridiculous. And things that are yummy. My roomate made fun of me the other day for saying that. Yummy. Apparently that's not the word that anyone over the age of 8 is supposed to be saying. hmm. I was like, oh. well...um. oops? And then contined to accidentally use the word yummy about 4 more succesive times in our conversation. Not on purpose at all. Just because...well, what the hell else am i supposed to say?? She just laughed..."ah ha ha..silly little michelle". grr. I was like, "ya well...you're a virgin!" (but that was in my head. cause she really is and it's not nice of me to point it out.)

You know. I think i've developed a sort of permanent writing disability. Maybe it has something to do with the stress or something...but it's like...i feel like there's this...wall. What kills me most is that, before i used to be able to look at anything...even a wall...and feel something. It was like..everything becomes inspiring. Everything makes you want to stop and touch it and experience it and you feel as if at that moment everything depends on it. You actually need it. And then writing was almost like breathing...it sort of comes to you as if it was always there jsut waiting fo ryou to see it. You look at anything...a rock. and in it you see all the beauty and the heart and the poetry that could fill pages. And it felt so good to get it out. Such a release to describe a beauty or a ugliness or a pain or a love...

And now...

It's like everything i look at holds nothing but the lack of something. It's all empty. And there's nothing to say. Or at least, nothing that i can bring myself to write. It seems as if things are losing their colour. Their vibrancy. Their texture. The world becomes this obsolete gap and everything is fading into shades of gray. I think it's school...and thinking...and not letting myself feel the things i need to keep myself alive.

I was reading Plato the other day...it's this dialogue with Ion. And he's arguing the ridiculousness of poetry and I was crushed. And then he says,

"For a poet is an airy thing, winged and holy, and he is not able to make poetry until he becomes inspired and goes out of his mind and his intellect is no longer with him."

And I realized...it's not really an insult at all. The problem is the rest of the world. So corrupt and concieted and wrapped up in the ridiculousness of everything their fake world consists of. They lose the art. Poets aren't airy..they're grounded. They're the only ones seeing things clearly. We seem to lose that clarity more and more as we're taught to think practically and forwardly. But I feel like the more I move ahead...the further away I get from what I need to be touching. How do you go back?

"As long as a human being has his intellect in his possession he will always lack the power to make poetry.."

In other news: One 2ndyr university level intellect for sale. $cheap!!$

A revelation...

2004-10-24T03:23:00.000-04:00

It's decided.

Every woman should own incredibly sexy
lingerie.

And every man should sleep with a woman
with
incredibly sexy
lingerie.

While she's still wearing
it.

.............

In other news:

i spent 9 hours in the library again today. And i've come to the conclusion that, despite common misconceptions, it is not the ideal study area.

At least for me. I mean really...

There are books Everywhere. Honestly. How is one supposed to focus on her textbook when surrounded with aisles and aisles of novels and poetry collections and biographies and histories and...

Today, for example, i got caught up in a book called Through Brown Eyes. Not sure about the author...i was simply wandering up and down miscellaneous rows and the whole brown eye thing caught my attention amongst a section of books relating to India and it's history. So i picked it up and layed on the (rather stiff) carpet of the aisle and read for a half hour or so. i started somewhere in the middle...ruffled through and read randomly through to the end.

This for me, i admitt, is terribly out of character. Only because i fume when i catch people reading the ends of books. It's awful. Blasphemous even. But today i ventured into that sinful world, went against my morals and....

actually enjoyed it.

Mind you, i would never do it if it was the type of book that i was really excited about reading. That's still just plain wrong. But i knew i'd probably never really take this one out. So i mean...hey, might as well enjoy the time i am gonna spend with it right?

wow. This must seem ridiculously strange...to be so preoccupied with thoughts on relationships with books. Anyone who doesn't understand about this- the passion in it- has probably scanned this post and moved on without a second look. And i mean, hey- it's understandable. I wouldn't expect you to get it. Most people don't. Some do. And i know he's reading this whole thing. And really, nothing else matters. i've been dying to write all day and couldn't make anything come out. So when it finally does...even if it has no relevance to anyone other than me (or him)...well, i'll write it anyways. Isn't that good advice i've heard somewhere before? Some teacher or something. The best way to get rid of writer's block is to write. Just Write. hmm.

Oh, and to make it worse...I had candy. And a camera. mmm-hmm. So i mean, really. How could i not be distracted??

Alright....well, now even i'm bored with this. it's time to give it up and go to bed.

Thanks for watching.

~cut to commercial~

2004-10-24T02:54:00.000-04:00

Green Apple

2004-10-21T21:26:00.000-04:00

Cost of trip to York: matty's gas $...Cost of mary-jane: a few bucks each....Cost of Live Band: Kev's determination....Cost of dancing in the spotlight with Sweet Pea Robby K: Priceless!

2004-10-16T00:35:00.000-04:00

touch

2004-10-16T00:26:00.000-04:00

it's 12:17

and i miss you

I just finished doing my eyebrows.

and playing with makeup

and then i took it all off

and then sat in front of the mirror and stared at my face.

around my eyes were all red from putting on makep and then scrubbing it off

and i realize my lips are kinda chapped

which seems yucky to me

i wonder if you'd still want to kiss them as much right now.

It's cause i've been upset today though.

and i was biting them.

I know i know. i shouldn't chew my lips.

they're not food.

but i don't have dorritos so..

2nd best thing i guess when i'm stressed.

i wish you were here.

and i could say sorry for being so difficult today.

I know i'm a handful sometimes.

I'm glad you stick around for the challenge.

but i mean....sometimes the fights are great...

cause then when we're done

we get to have that amazing make-up sex

and i love you so much when i'm trying to say sorry with my body...and when your skin and hands and lips are saying it's ok again.

and your kiss on my forehead seals the whole thing.

I wish it were that right now.

you left when i was still mad. (not your fault i know, don't worry)

But i would've liked to make up tonight.

I know we did over the phone...

but it just doesn't seem right if i don't melt my apologies into you with my skin.

maybe tomorrow...

i miss you

2004-10-15T23:14:00.000-04:00

always...chasing you...and just a step too late. These things, they blur my mind...distort my view. And there you are, just ahead. Can I touch you if I reach out just far enough? It hurts my head to think of it....feel myself falling through the haze, while tiles slip from beneath my feet. Losing myself...I can see your eyes just barely...they're out of focus. Or are those mine? It doesn't matter, it's too bright in here anyway. Neither of us are seeing clearly. Hands over our foreheads to shade our eyes...and the shadows dull the scene. The smoke dulls the scene. Dulls the pain. And we move ahead without watching. Without watching carefully as we cross the street. Moving too fast for our heads to keep up. Our hearts are on wings and they take us without our permission. Didn't really matter though. What would you have said if they had stopped to ask? no? hm. I doubt it. I couldn't have. In the end there was only one answer. Only one place to go. Only one. And we ran there. Even though we couldn't see. . . .and i'm still just a step too late....

Back again...& Further away than ever

2004-10-12T15:58:00.000-04:00

You know, it kills me.

There are times when you feel like...

And then you try to...

But it all comes out...

And i think that...

But in the end...

Period.

So I guess the best thing to do is...

And then maybe...

Unless, of course...

But then, isn't it always...

And in the end...

Period.

Lost in You

2004-10-12T15:43:00.000-04:00

and then you go off again...speaking so beautifully...and one remembers so easily why and how we were so completely enraptured by you....But then...We watch you fall so easily for every other beautiful creature that graces your presence...and we check ourselves...give ourselves that little tap on the heart and we say...
"no no...he was never really ours to begin with. only a fleeting moment of perfect attention....and maybe it was real for that minute....but now this new one is real...and in a few minutes the next one will be....and slowly...we'll slip away to the back corners of his memory...just another beauty...another cute laugh...another post on the website...no no. Don't think it was anything more than that"

Lost & Found

2004-09-22T23:52:00.000-04:00

You know what the best feeling is? Finding something you lost a long time ago.

Like money in a winter jacket.
Or old notes in a memory box.
Or a photo stashed between the pages of a book.
Or your left mitten in the school lost and found that mom's been nagging about ever since she had to go to Zellers and buy you another pair...

Or a blog that you almost forgot belonged to you...

The wonderful thing about it is that it brings back a flood of memories. Especially since they're ones that I found special enough to type out. And also that so much has changed since I left.

Like I can change colours.
It's like a rainbow!!!!!! (and really, how does it get any better than a rainbow?)

And the other great thing about this is that it's like starting new all over again.
And I get to dive back into what I've always loved...

Talking to you.

That's all for now...I'm trying to get through Chaucer's Canterbury Tales for class...

~goodnight~

It's like trying to describe sex to a virgin

2004-07-12T19:32:00.000-04:00

This feeling is like having parts of your life that aren't real. At first it's all fine. And we move and talk and do everything and everything is normal.

And then...

Break.Roll.Light.Inhale.Breath.Sigh... (like a sequence from "Requiem")

The world slows down. Voices and sounds meld together in the air and puddle in my ears and i'm seperated from the out-loud conversations. But only the out-loud ones. because there are a million conversations in my head. And sometimes I'll look at one of them (posse guys) amd they'll be looking at me and I'll know that they were including me in their mind conversations too.

I don't know if any of this is coherent.

It's like viewing the world differently. Kind of like your reality is being played out on-screen like a black and white silent film. The movements are jerky, awkward. Like still fames appearing one after the other-click click click click-like when you draw a stick man on the corner of some pages and you flip them through and make him move around. Nothing is smooth. Nothing flows. Everything is snappy. Even my thoughts.

It's like Chaos in your brain. But not the kind that makes you crazy. (well, maybe a little). It's a peaceful chaos. Nothing makes sence and that's perfectly okay.

Do you get it? Did i make it clear?

No...not at all. That's only my experience. My definition.

To each his own.

And she thought...

2004-07-12T19:29:00.000-04:00

I want to be a poet.

I want to sing my words to you

And watch you sway.

And the next time you dance...

You'll think of me.

"Cause I'm Broken, When I'm Open..."

2004-07-12T19:13:00.000-04:00

They say misery inspires poetry.

Even great poetry.

They say it evokes tortuous emotion and passionate creativity. It's when you are miserable that you can actually imagine your heart as a something tangible. Something coherently describable. You can literally feel it breaking.

It's true isn't it? That my deepest hurt has often produced the writings that I'm most proud of. Probably because those are the ones that show raw emotion. I think pain makes the writing come alive. Lets it breath on the page. Lets others feel it pulse.

Because pain is universal. Love is not.

Love is not.

Pain is enduring. Constant.
Love is fleeting. Brief.

Somebody change that! Someone take it away. But who can do that? Who can honestly feel confident enough that they'll be the one to break the cycle? Confuse the pattern? Alter what's real? What is. What isn't.

Who is arrogent enough to believe that they could be the one to bring chaos into this time of precicely calculated stability?

They have you confused. They have us all confused. Tricked into believing that this pain is temporary. That life only falls apart periodically. They're lying to you.

And you eat it up like poutine.

The truth is that we thrive on destruction. That our main function is to tear down and not to build. The pain is not sporatic. They'll tell you otherwise but just look at your life. Hurt is consistant in each of our stories. It's there always...even when just quietly lingering in the backs of our hearts. But it never disappears completely.

It remains. Lasting. Predictable.

The only true variable in life is Love.

True Love/Vanilla Sky

2004-06-25T15:49:00.000-04:00

It's strange how sleep
Loses it's importance
As we lie here together
In the dark
And your voice becomes the
Only significant thing
In my world
At this moment.

A vanilla sky surrounds us
Erasing everything
From our reality.
The world is empty
Except for us.
Simply us.

Tension mounts
And only you know the cure.
Your hands are dangerous
Almost torture
As your fingertips burn my skin

My body is begging for you
Wanting you
Beside me, Around me, Over me, In me...

We're swimming in dark waters now,
aren't we?

A dense fog clouds my thoughts
Making it hard for you to see me
feel me
know me...

Who am I anyways?
What do I want?
Will I ever tell you?

I warned you once,
But you refused to listen.
You think you'll be fine.
You think you'll figure me out eventually.

But remember I warned you.

Who are you anyways?
What do you want?

I pretend I know
But transparancy is imaginary
The only thing that's real is
the fog,
And we're hiding behind it.

This world is sweet and sour, isn't it?
You can't understand
the Passion
Until you tasted
the Pain

Which part are we at I wonder?

As I lay beneath you
These thoughts are
spinning in my head

And I come...

To the realization that
Passion IS Pain
Sweet IS sour
There are no seperate entities.
Only the melding of
Thoughts and emotions
of joy
of tears
of subtle revelations
of orgasmic loses...

And vanilla Skies

Small Town Love

2004-06-25T15:07:00.000-04:00

So...I go to Guelph University. And today I had to make my way over there to meet my housemates for next September. And from the moment i bought that GO bus ticket(which costs an extra 15cents now, by the way) from that moment I realized that i really AM in love....With that city. Honestly, I was more content than a baby with a lolli-pop. ("Think of it as a popsicle, not a lolli-pop"...)

First, there's a guy on the bus who is making me smile. He's sitting on the left near the front. HE has dark hair and light eyes. He's also got his discman on...with some rock song playing so loudly that we can all hear it clearly. I can tell it bugs some of the older people on the bus. But I'm watching him bob his head up and down to the beat of the drums and it makes me smile because he seems happy when he's lost in his music.

And so I'm writing him down so i can remember this later. Because you should always remember the people who make you feel good. Even if you'll never know their names.

Then i get downtown. Now I know that somewhere there is a small used book store because I passed it all the time on the bus during the school year. I also know that I'm really hungry. So i think to myself, I need to get some eats. But i didn't really want to sit with nothing to pass the time and i stupidly left my copy of Lolita at home. (I was out really late with the posse and was so ridiculously high when i got home that I only managed to get down to my underwear before I quite literally passed out on the bed. Needless to say, I didn't get any packing done and when i woke up i only had about an hour to shower, dress, and pack my stuff. But meh...i digress...) So i decide to try and find the bookstore, get a book, then get food. Sounds like a decent plan.

One problem: No Clue where that damn store is. And i looked. Up and down the streets of Guelph. (trust me it doesn't take that long. This ain't no B-Town.) Ahhh, it was to no avail. There was no books to be found. And eventually my stomach couldn't take the pressure. So i went to the BEST little 50's diner called Wimpy's and had myself some grilled cheese and coleslaw. (which i didn't know i liked until today either!)If you ever go to Guelph, go there. Wimpy's Diner. Deliciousness. And all-day Breakfast. mmmm.

Next Problem: Well, I gave away all the money i had left. Not even kidding. it was a dumb move on my part. But meh. See, after breakfast i run into this guy who's sitting on the curb, asking for spare change. And I remember this guy cause he's been sitting in the same spot for my past 2 semesters and i always gave him change on the way to the GO station. And one time we talked and he said he liked my sandals. Said he didn't see a whole lot of people wearing those kinda shoes anymore. They were flip-flops. Every girl in the city owns a pair. But he noticed mine anyways. So i fell in love with him. And there he is, faithfully sitting on the curb. But everyone is just walking by him. Not even a second glance. And he keeps smiling. And i can't help myself. So i empty what's left in my pockets. $4 i think. not much. I wish i could buy him a house. With vases of flowers on the tables. And a puppy. But i give him what i've got. And talk to him about the weather. Then I'm on my way again. And i get to the center of downtown. And i open my wallet. and I have exactly 37 cents. total. Shit. I head to the bank to withdrawal a $20 and get change. Here's a tip of the day for ya: You can't take out $20 when you're balance is $10. And banks don't give out $10. So in a nutshell, I'm fucked.

But i'm lucky for one reason: I'm NOT in Brampton anymore. Cause in brampton i'd have no options. No money. No one to help. Nothing. and the truth is, no one gives a shit about the wandering broke chic in brampton. it's just how it goes. But the good news of course is that i'm in Guelph. And the difference between brampton and Guelph: People actually care.

So i meet Adam. Who is lost and looking for a certain mall. And I give him directions. And he loans me Bus fare. And we chat. (And he's got this sexy lip-ring and long blond hair and is dressed in black). And we plan to randomly meet again in Doogie's (a great little bar) sometime this year. It would be nice to run into him again. .

But...if I'm really to be honest about the source of my happiness...I don't really think I could give the credit to a diner, or a bus ride, or even to a lip ring. If you want to know the truth...there's something else that surpasses the rest of all these and makes them trivial in retrospect. Can't tell you what it is. Mainly because I'm still careful about it myself. But this "thing"...well, it may just be one of those life-changing experiences that we all spend our lives dreaming about. No details. They're still too hazy to elaborate on. However if you're ever interested in finding this source....the number is 65. Mr. Martin will give you directions.

So now I'm sitting in my University Library. And finally don't have to wait for a computer cause there's no line-ups in the summer. I love this city.

Little People Love

2004-06-25T15:06:00.000-04:00

So,The reason why kids are awesome is very simply defined in one moment:

My ten year old twin sisters and their friend from down the street came up with a game that has been amusing them for the past three consecutive evenings...

They gather in my basement sometime after dinner and they disappear down there for at least half-an-hour. When they come back up, they're dressed in full-out costumes: One Polar Bear, one Bumble-Bee, one Alien. And dressed as such they carry on throughout the house and then outside to march up and down the street. (Don't be fooled, it's not Halloween. It's the end of June.) When they return they go straight back down to the basement- but this time invite me down to see the game they're invented. THey take this blue gymnastics mat from the floor and bend it along the crease so it makes the shape of a small roof or a tent. (Think knee-high triangular prism). Then, one at a time they take turns standing behind it and trying to jump on it in a stradling position. Which of course fails miserably as the mat flattens out at each attempt. At which point, they all burst out into fits of hysterical laughter and cartwheels. And then do it again. All the while still dressed up as a Polar Bear, a Bumble-Bee, and an Alien.

I consider myself lucky to know such wonderful creatures

Who goes to Work anyways?

2004-06-14T23:25:00.000-04:00

Once upon a time, i had to sit in a torturously long and boring meeting. The lady at the front had long long hair and talked for a long long time. She wasn't very good at it though cause she basically just stood there and read the information off the page. And we all had our little booklets of this information in front of us. And i thought to myself, "if she would just shut-up, then i could take this booklet home and read it myself. Obviously she just likes to hear herself talk. Otherwise i'm sure that she would notice that there's only, say, 7 of 30 people who are actually listening attentively. The rest, well, we "Hear" her but none of us are actually listening. One guy is even sleeping. He's wearing an "Italia" soccer jacket.

Way to go buddy.

Represent.

There was something else i was gonna say but then i paid attention to Ms.Talk-a-Thon and i forgot. fuck. That's what you get for listening. Who does that?

Oh shit. Some guy just asked a question. wtf? He was one of the 7 i guess. loser. Lady is talking about Epi-pens. "An epipen haas a rush of adrenalin in it..."

Really? thanks dude. It's not like i haven't heard this shpeel 5 times already. Damn meetings. After 5 years i should be exempt from this. I know it like I know how to have sex: well. Too bad hearing it over and over is not as amzing as having sex over and over. Then i wouldn't mind sitting through this every june.

Whatever. Fuck this noise. I need an Epipen. I could use a rush of adrenalin right about now.
.............................

So then i was back in the room. Still listening to Long-Long talk. Correction--> Still "hearing" Long-Long talk. But this time it's different. This time i got my adrenalin rush. Lady gave us a half-hour break (to relieve the migrane she was giving us). Do you know what can happen in half-an-hour? She doesn't. But i'm sitting in the back of the room, and i didn't even need the visine anyways.

And then i wondered, "When has anyone, ever asked a question about sunblock? Who?" Well...until now. I must sit and take this moment to applaude the City of B-town. Where the hell did they find a kid who gives a shit enough to ask more questions after an elaborately disscussed presentation on sunblock?

Ok. Here we go. Long hair is starting to draw pictures on the marker board. Two new girls are talking now. And then one day, when they were still talking, i learned how to hug from the side...
and about Good touch.
And bad touch.
And that I actually know how to spell "aquaintances".

One day, when the sheet-readers were still talking, the lady-artist began to lose herself in the orange shirt mountain. Ugly orange staff shirts. Well...maybe it's rainbow orange.
ok.
I like them now.
And then she jumped away from the shirts: "Condifentiality...blah,blah, blah..."

My friends here are bigger pot-heads than me. Well, at least "different" pot-heads than me. I write. I think about how the melting X's on the walls affect my life. and then i try to explain it to you.

[and in the midst of this train of thought, the readers stress the fact that self-pleasure is not only good, it's GOOD.]

But these guys, my friends, they draw pics of bongs on the backs of thier pages. With shadowing, he reminds me to write. He's redefining the NIKE add for the use of peer-pressure-propoganda. {Weed. Just do it.}
atta boy.
Corrupt the youth,
That's how we run shit south of Bovaird.

And Lady says we don't carry latex gloves at our camp anymore. Really eh? What about latex condoms? no, huh? well, I'll try to contain myself. And Oh My God. These fucking gloves comee in sizes. S M L. And i learned i should take note of glove shortage. Fuck. This weed isn't nearly strong enough. I can still hear them talking. And Long-Long is confused. She says she hasn't had her wine yet. Well, i don't know. I think that's excatly the problem. I mean- she's talking about tampons. And changing males. And males. She means females.
.............................

I see the sun through the faded brown curtain. Oh wait. Nope. It's just a lampost light. But i'm high. And i'm gonna pretend it's the sun setting.

Because i can.

And it is.

Miss you

2004-06-14T10:29:00.000-04:00

I have a best friend. Well, I have few best-friends actually. But there's one...

This girl, she's awesome. I've known her since i was a nerdy kid in grade school. (Truthfully we didn't really like each other back then...she says i was mean. I don't remember. I was just quiet.) In high school we fell in love, so to speak. Sometimes best friends just know they're meant to be best friends. And that was us. We bring out the awesome in each other. And, usually, are pretty inseparable.

Until now.

The Yukon took her away for a while. Ya, she got some awesome job up there and is getting paid some serious $$, which is good for her and makes me happy. But she's sooo many hours away and I'm writing because I miss her. I don't think there are many of her kind around. In fact, there may (I'm beginning to think) be only the two of us. Two of a kind. I think it's just cause i'm not so great at making other girlfriends. It's weird. I think Raymi talked about it once in her blog too. Girls just don't jump at making friends with us. It's easy enough to meet friendly guys. But finding my best friend was a lucky day for me.

I can't wait for her to come back home again. Only a couple of months away. And then...back to late night talks, drinking the weekends away, dancing in the rain on wet grass in bare feet, sitting around doing nothing and everything.

I miss you Ash. See you soon.

Sunny Day

2004-06-07T11:48:00.000-04:00

God it's amazing outside today. but you know what that means...no time for blogging right now. It's time to bikini-it-up and head out to tan. Winter pasties are not my thing. (Though, i'm Italian and have dark skin so i can't really complain about pasties...) But regardless- I'm going outside anyways. I have to finish reading 1984. Amazing piece of literature. And then I'm starting Lolita. And then the books that Matty and I will buy for $1.00 at the mall at the book sale. It was already closed when we got there so no cheap books yet. But we hid the good ones under tha table and we'll be heading back for them soon enough. I hope.

Anyways...'scuse the boring ramble. I'm outta here.

2004-06-06T15:47:00.000-04:00

I needed to get high.

So angry. So sad. Tears flowed like silky rivers tracing curves of my cheekbones. Get me out of this.

Then the phone call:
**mrmphifsmNEEDlomniphimsfis20BAGmphlosmph...
**mhpolphliSURElimphidmph...

Then Car Ride. Which, of course, is always fun. Because, of course, we always burn.

Decided: I like joints. Bongs are ok. But they're big. They make me couch. My lungs say owww. Boo bongs. Pipes are pretty awesome. Really Awesome. Really Bait. A joint, however, is a discreet, tiny little treat (kind of like those Adult Entertainment Ads in the Gaurdian...local B-town trash fighting to make a buck-or-two.)I lit up and inhale serenity. Some black guy with serious rastafarian dreads is in the car beside me. He nods at me and smiles as I exhale a steady stream of smoke out the crack of the window. I woulda passed it to him for a hit but we were turning left at the lights. Sorry man.

Then the garage. Two black leather mini-armchairs. Two fold-out chairs. Two camping chairs (forest green). A bucket...upside down concealing two bongs. One: shades of green that were once beautiful but are now defaced by worn-OUT-white-OUT. The other: dark tinted glass number but tiny in size comparison so therefore not as alluring. (Not my personal belief- just the common pattern of choice made by the guys who frequent the garage.) Tense silence follows. Awkward. Boys look at each other nonchalantly as if this torturous silence isn't tearing at their minds. Silence ensues.
I make a comment
About my toe
And a band-aid
About the band-aid being on my toe.
Ya. It mattered about that much to the guys in the garage too.
Whatever Dude. Silence sucked. The Posse would've appreciated my randomness.
But then...I found the blue deck of cards. They changed my life. 2 words: Card. Castles.
Oh my god, I know! An hour and a half at LEAST. Mesmerizing. Magical. Mind strengthening. Card Castles. I need my own special deck of cards. On the pack shall be written "Princess Little's Card Castles". And i shall need a camera. disposable. designated to taking one picture per night i'm flying. And to take a picture of my card castles.

Then Hallway. Watching game through the toys in the box. Because we're on the floor. Only it's ok because we've got the dog.
Mud.
The Dog.
That's his name.
The dog's name is mud.
And he was wonderful. He licked my toes. It felt wild because i'm so baked.

But then weird.
Because he's a dog.
And he's licking my toes.
...Still.

It's odd. Like a puppy-fetish. Only not a fetish for puppies. But a puppy with a fetish. Hmmm.

Then Living-Room Couch. Sneakily edged away from Mr.I'm-obsessed-with-your-toes. Hockey game. Calgary vs. Tampa Bay. I like Red. Calgary should win.

11:23:33pm: First yawn of the night.
11:34:07pm: Wondering why I'm still thinking about the clock.

Mr.Toes is back. i don't fight it.

Whatever Dude. It felt good.

Then Car Ride. Much colder then before...I think. But I always get shaky and shivery when i'm high. (though I can still construct a Mean Card Castle.) And it feels cold. Even if it's not. But there's a towel. It's warm. It's purple. I'm happy.

Then i'm home. Wrong key always goes in first. Then he drives away. Without waiting to check if i get in safe. That's my test. Boys may look to see if we unlock the drivers side. We want to see if you make sure we are inside. He failed. Miserably. I think he may have been jealous. ...My card castle was insanely better than his.

Then Bed. Tostitos (scoops). Salsa. And at 1:15am when it's about time to stop writing and being awake-ing...cold water bottles and mini-croissants appear like magic out of the pink flower back-pack.

Thanks Mary Jane.
I'd fuck her....'cept i'm tired so I'll sleep now instead...

Favourite smells...

2004-05-31T02:08:00.000-04:00

babies, pasta sauce, my dad's work smell, my mom's clothes, umm...lavender/lilacs/most flowers/oh ya hyasynths(i spelt that WAY wrong) umm...grass getting cut, old ladies' musky perfume...i know there's way more...A certain someone's cologne...shampoo, rain...

Enjoy the little things.

Why?

2004-05-29T17:47:00.000-04:00

Because everything happens for a reason...
Because some things are meant to be...
Because I found you and you're voice was beautiful...

Because you held me on the escalators...
Because you danced with me...
Because we fit perfectly in your bed...
Because you came under my pause-blanket with me...
Because we bring sexy dreams to life...
Because of the smile when you see my shoulder...
Because of the rain...
Because of the sun on our faces as we lay on green grass and sleep...
Because you know my secrets...
Because I'm not afraid...
Because you're not afraid...
Because we have all the time in the world...

That's why.

2004-05-28T23:46:00.000-04:00

mmm chocolate. (me on the right)

Have you ever been the the Hershey's Chocolate place in Niagra Falls? oh man. it is a whole lot of awesome- trust me. soo much chocolate...it's better than sex!

ok. i'm lying. it's definately not. ahh sex. ya. so anyways:

this is us there. in the hershey's place.
Big Kiss for a Big Kiss.

good times.

Motrin Pain

2004-05-28T23:08:00.000-04:00

i think that i've inherited these awful headaches from my mother. She get migrains all the time. Those really shitty ones that keep you in bed and she has to take these migrain pills that cost, like $75 each.

damn.

It's like a grinding pain behind my right eye tonight...and it stretches into the right hemisphere of my brain.

oww.

But what really makes this evening is the noise around me this moment. i'm sitting in my basement and i've got all my family here for my sisters birthday. A bunch of my cousins are sitting around the tv...there is 9 of them sitting here. The rest are still upstairs.

Yes. I have a big family. It's an Italian thing. And no...i'm not connected to the mob.

Well

Except for my dad. Who gives death threats to the guys that take me out.

ya it's true. Ask matty h. He knows.

But i digress... The multitude of children in my basement are crowded around the tv playing a Disney Sing-Along Song Video. And they are all singing. All of them. Loudly.

Now i complain...but the truth is that this really is one of the cutest things ever. I mean: 9 kids...practically holding hands...all giggling and smiling...and singing "Under the sea...Under the Sea..."

It's like an episode of Barney. Or Sesame Street. Or the Muppet Show.

Only live.

So...boo to headaches. But i love these kids.

I must've missed the postcard...

2004-05-28T02:13:00.000-04:00

So i type in "Beauty" in google image search and this is the first pic that comes up:

hmm.

Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail, and...

2004-05-28T00:39:00.000-04:00

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:this is effin complicated when you're this stoned

talking to you is pointless says:
lol

talking to you is pointless says:
ah the novice approach

Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:i can't even focus from screen to screen and it's taken my days cause i'm falling in love with the way the letters appear on the screen while i type and that's why this msg is still going cause i want to keep watvhing the letters. wow. this is really beautiful........................

talking to you is pointless says:
lol omg

talking to you is pointless says:
so what u do all night

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:umm. got high.

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:
sat on some bleachers and watched the stars in the sky and the rain was pouring down on my face and there was tragically hip music in my ears and i was so happy and i am still so happy and these letters never cease to amaze me with thier beauty......~~~~.............~~~~~............

talking to you is pointless says:
lol who did u do all that with?

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:robby k and matty h and kev

talking to you is pointless says:
ah the possie

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:
yes, tis true.

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:
lol.

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:
i was English for a sec there

And then we saw Peter Rabbit on the grass by the road and he was running away again and mopsy flopsy and cotton-tail will get to eat all the blackberries in cream and Peter will have lost his shoe amongst the cabbagaes...and we will add peter to the list of Animals We Saw and he will go under Oriol and Red Robin and bee and butterfly... and then Peter

Too Early in the Morning to Think

2004-05-27T18:28:00.000-04:00

talking to you is pointless says:
good morning beautiful

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:good morning darling. I'm so happy today!

talking to you is pointless says:thats great. im glad your happy

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:
how are you?

talking to you is pointless says:
i just woke up, so im happy

talking to you is pointless says:
what time u gettin your hair done?

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:
3

talking to you is pointless says:oh lots of free time for u today i guess
i think i gotta head back to work
boo to that

talking to you is pointless says:by the way u looked good yesterday

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:
thanks

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:
u too. i like your head shaved like that.

talking to you is pointless says:yeah but its a hastle to maintain

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:
haha. ya right

talking to you is pointless says:its gotta be cut like every 1 -2 weeks

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:
oh i see

talking to you is pointless says:
so....

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:i'm getting my hair cut today

talking to you is pointless says:
lol i rememeber ...at 3

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:oh ya

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:u know...something you'll learn about me REAL quick:
i have the worlds WORST memory EVER
"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:
seriously. it's like a 10sec memory span

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:i'm like a fish

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:only human

talking to you is pointless says:lol. aquawoman

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:
haha ya

talking to you is pointless says:
lol mornings are never pleasant eyes dont want to stay open.
need an eye opener

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:
I once kissed a girl

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:
and then some...

talking to you is pointless says:well that almost did it

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:
almost?

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:
well fuck.

talking to you is pointless says:
not quite drastic enuff. it was a good effort

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:
well, i'm not telling you all the good stories in one day. I'll save the rest for a later date.

talking to you is pointless says:
something to look forward too

talking to you is pointless says:
i need something to catch me off gaurd

talking to you is pointless says:
like the phone ringing or doorbell. something to make me wake up

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:*ring ring*

talking to you is pointless says:
lol
its for you

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:
thanks, Hello?

talking to you is pointless says:
hi

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:who's this?

talking to you is pointless says:
were just calling to see if you would be interested in new windows...

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:umm. well, my windows look alright. You got any avacadoes though?

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:
cause those are good.

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:and i'd buy one.

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:
or five

talking to you is pointless says:
sorry we dont but is there anything u want instaed of avacadoes?

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:um. a rainbow perhaps?

talking to you is pointless says:i got one of those

talking to you is pointless says:
its in my pocket

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:
well that's convienient

talking to you is pointless says:
i'd say

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:so how much are rainbows going for these days anyways?

talking to you is pointless says:
well for you i guess its on the house

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:really eh?

talking to you is pointless says:
yeah well theres a catch i cant move my arms so u just gotta reach in the pocket and get it yourself

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:oh. So you're a pervert too eh? not just a windows-rainbow-no-avacodo-kinda-guy

talking to you is pointless says:
i dunno its hard to just stick to one
there all so tempting

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:i see.

"Because i love you better than artichokes and candles in the dark." ~I. Layton says:If i was anything...i'd be...a-rainbow-in-her-pocket-avacado-eating-not-selling-but-don't-ask-me-about-windows-kinda-girl

talking to you is pointless says:
hmm interesting

Then She Thought...

2004-05-26T10:42:00.000-04:00

i miss you
and
i wish you were here
and
i wish i was there
and
i like your curly hair
and
your lips
and
the way you kiss me
but
scratch that last one
'cause
i LOVE
the way you kiss me
and
i want your hands all over my skin
and
i want to whisper in your ear
and
tease your earlobes with my tounge the way you like
and
i miss holding your hand
and
tracing your face with my fingers so i could remember every inch
and
get lost in your eyes
and
i miss watching Dirty Dancing
or
trying to watch Dirty Dancing
and
then getting naked instead
and
i want to kiss you more
and
kiss you in the rain
and
get drunk in your arms
and
laugh with you until it hurts
and
my stomach cringes
and
i can't breath
and
then look at you
and
realize that i need to take of all your clothes this very instant
and
make love to you for hours
and
the sun will come up
and
we'll still be naked
and
moaning
and
the birds will chirp through the open window
and
we'll know it's morning
and
we won't care
and
we'll make love until our bodies go limp
and
i'll smile at you when we're done
and
say "we made love all night long"

and
then this time you won't leave for your "small town"

and
you'll stay with me in the crazy city
and
i promise to make you forget the crowds of people that irritate you
and
i'll give you more than one reason to stay next to me
and
then one day you can go away someplace quiet
but
this time you'll take me with you
and
we'll make love there too
and
see the ocean
but not swim in it
because of sharks
and
maybe we'll cry
but
happy tears
and
we'll go all around the world
and
make love all around the world
and
maybe if we're lucky we'll fall in love

Which
of course

we

may

have

done

a

while

ago.
"Yond light is not daylight. It is some meteor the sun exhales...Therefore, stay yet. Thou need'st not to be gone."

It's ok...

2004-05-24T23:27:00.000-04:00

My headache is beginning to deform my left eyeball. Well, that's what it feels like. That's what you get for crying too much i guess. So ok. i'm just not going to cry again. Not over you.

Not tonight anyways...

Because i have a reason to smile. I have so many reasons. And this is one of them...greatest book of all time...

Can anyone tell me what it is? A million points to the winner:

{"He went to look at the roses again. 'You're not at all like my rose. You're nothing at all yet," he told them. 'No one has tamed you and you haven't tamed anyone. You're the way my fox was. He was justa fox like a hundred thousand others. But I've made him my friend, and now he;s the only fox in all the world.' And the roses were humbled. 'You're lovely, but you're empty,' he went on. 'One couldn't die for you. Of course, an ordinary passerby would think my rose looked just like you. But my rose, all on her own, is more important than all of you together, since she's the one I've wtered. Since she's the one I put under glass. Since she's the one I sheltered behind a screen. Since she's the one I killed the caterpillars (except the two or three for butterflies). Since she's the one I listened to when she complained, or when she boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing at all. Since she's MY rose. And he went back to the fox."}

Absence

2004-05-24T20:24:00.000-04:00

You tear me.
Rip me.
Cut me.
Hurt me.
Bruise me.
Break me.

Taunt me
Tease me
tangle me
torture me

And yet...when i close my eyes i dream of you.

It's stupidity really. Self-destructive stupidity. To let myself think about you and want you. Who are you anyways?

Who am i?

But it's all a fucking mess. And you seem to want to keep it that way.
I don't know why i even bother with you anymore. Do you even see me trying to keep things sane? myself sane?
Always picking up the pieces and trying to put my soul back together...and you...

I talk to you for three minutes and you tear it all to shreds.
how? how do you that? Who do you think you are anyways?

How can i love you this way...

I don't know

But i do.

Who are you?Your eyes say one thing but
Your actions say another.

A million words with
Zero meaning
A million thoughts with
Zero voice

A battle
Between
Reality & Delusion-
Only i'm not sure which side we're on

It's a game we play

A tug-of-war

You on one end...me on the other--my heart in the middle
My mind on one end...My heart on the other--You in the middle
Together on one end...seperated on the other--us in the middle

Go away. Leave my heart alone.

As a brilliant poet once wrote:

"Love,
I make a silence
Out of your name
And dip
My hands in it."
~Irving Layton

They took my 2-4-Cherry!!

2004-05-24T00:31:00.000-04:00

*sigh*
We started around 4...and didn't see sober for the rest of the night. But then, how else should it have gone?

Matty H- this man rolls a joint like no one i've ever met. They are the TINIEST CUTEST little things you'll ever see! But don't let that fool you...These lil' babies are unbelievably potent and last ridiculously long periods of time. To Matty, who kept us flying all night long: Thank-you!

Robby K- in a word: wonderful. Who else would take us on suicidal adventures through our hometown ghetto?? Or shut us up mid-sentance to elighten us with his philisophical ramblings?? To Robby, my favourite sweetpea: Thank-you!

ahh...What a night.
And what did we conclude at the climax of the evening? (which, by the way, was around 4am in my kitchen, practically floating on the celing, cooking grill-cheese sandwiches, and taking shots of tequilla...) We came to the realization that good ol' B-town just isn't where we're destined to live. So here it is: we're moving to mexico, living in a small, hot shack, smokin' in the sun, and eating grill-cheese and baking lavender cakes...
Anyone else care to join? Trust me, it's heaven.

To top off a perfect day and a perfect night...was a perfect sleep. One big bed, Robby K, Matty H, and Xandi...Led Zep's How The West Was Won dvd playing all night long...and flying to sleep with Stairway To Heaven and best-friends.

Boys, our first May 2-4....I give up my cherry with pleasure!!

Herbal Escape

2004-05-21T20:16:00.000-04:00

My mind melts
My vision blurs

I breath in

Serenity

Calm

A cloud of piece
And I can climb inside
And be carried
Away

This moment is
My reward
My comfort
My escape
The sun is setting
As we drive down empty roads
In your car
Always alone, but never without you there

Writing sky poetry
In my head
While watching echo lightning
Illuminate air

Flying
...down the road

Flying
...in your car

My body is
...flying
...falling

Mind escapes the confines
Of the head
And soars alone
Uninhibited
Free as words
Cheap as drinks

And as we drive,
Setting is the Sun.

In His Arms

2004-05-20T12:19:00.000-04:00

i miss making love. God do i miss it. It's been too long...i remember the way i felt in his arms.

So protected. So safe.

And the way he touched me...Ran his fingers across my skin. The way he looked into my eyes and kissed my lips. They way he would whisper in my ear, "...I love you so much..."

i miss it so much.

It's so incredible the way he could make me feel. The complete and utter happiness...Only he has made me feel so happy that i cry.

Truthfully, it's not even the sex that i miss. Sex is sex. You can find it when you want it. But having sex and making love can be one thing or two completely different things. And the reality is- to be honest with myself and anyone else- the only person who has combined them for me so far is him. I've never made love to anyone but him.

Only him.

I miss him right now....His arms, his lips, his fingers, his hair...his shoulders and elbows and his toes...i miss the emotions that being with him made me feel. i miss losing control of my heart with him inside me. i miss the poetry it inspired.

I miss making love with you...

Memory
Night falls.
The liquid dark pours in
Through the windows,
But when i close my eyes
i can see you perfectly.
The heat of your cheeks and
the burning in your eyes
Have embedded a tender scar on my heart
That will never be erased.

The scent of your skin
Was the edge of my sanity,
And i fell...
away from reality
and deep into you.

You take me to a place where
Words are meaningless.
Yet i hear your thoughts
more clearly then if spoken.

Your fingertips are poetry
As you run them through my hair
And i am lost inside your arms
And you are lost inside my world.

The beating of your heart embraces my own
And it's two hearts, one heart...
Two hearts, one heart...
Two hearts, one heart...
one heart...
Our Heart

And as your body surrounds me, fills me, is me
i am engulfed in your flames.
Overtaken by waves of heat
that ripple through my soul
And shake my earth

Though i can't remember a single word that you said,

I'll never forget the taste of your breath.

Lose Yourself

2004-05-19T18:09:00.000-04:00

I'm screaming for an end to sobriety! Enough with such lawful restraints. I'm dying to break all the chains, all the ropes, all the things that hold you back from this freedom.

Take a drink from my cup and lose yourself in the heat of it. Let it flow through your veins, corrupting you in every way: body mind spirit. Let it inspire emotion you were previously unaware of. Let it ignite desire in your blood that seeps from your skin, your liips, your tounge...

Let me be the one to take you over the edge...

Now is not the time for reservations or uncertainty- you are so young! Enjoy that youth and let it take over your reality. You can't hide from the world, it's yours! Embrace it. Make love to life and beauty and dance as passion rains down over your body- stinging tounges that tantalize every inch of your drunken skin.

Allow a drunken mind to be free of it's box. It doesn't need to conceal it's secrets or be frightened of speaking aloud. This is your chance to explore corners of yourself that you were never able to express until now.

AngerSexHeatFrustrationPassionDesire
DestructionPainPowerHurtHappiness

...Any emotions that you've laid buried in the depths of the shadows- Free them, release them.

Release yourself.

And when you go there...take me with you. Let me into those pieces of your soul that i've been waiting so long to share with you.

i wear my passions on my sleeve for all to see. You keep them under a blanket as if they were a sin...

What's Love Got to Do With It?

2004-05-18T20:51:00.000-04:00

i feel out of place today. Out of place in my own skin. The world feels right, the day is beautiful...and nothing has really gone wrong at all. But it feels as though i don't fit into any of it. Something about me is off...or missing.

Maybe i've lost it

Or maybe i never had it to begin with.

What is it about humans that make us need others so desperately?

i know what's wrong with me. It's simple: i'm just not in love. What's frustrating is not even that though. It's that we (i) feel like i need to be in love to feel...full. Complete. Happy. Why are we like that? Looking around everyday...seeing people walking places. The ones that are in twos holding hands and making love with their eyes and their smiles- those are the ones that look happy. Satisfied. Content.

Elated even.

The ones that walk alone- they don't look like that. Either with thier heads down or with a serious expression on thier face. It's not often you see a solo-elated person, is it? But why not? Why should i need someone else so that i can be happy with myself?

i want to be the one who is elated by themself.

Out of the Closet

2004-05-11T20:26:00.000-04:00

Ok: so i'm officially coming out. Well, kinda. Technically, i'm not gay...so i guess it's abuse of the phrase- but whatever. I'm coming out of quiet world of ink on paper diaries and putting myself on the line. I'm out, exposed. Who knows where this will go? Not me...

...Deep down in the jungle of my thoughts,
Things aren't always what they seem.
Just when you think you know me,
I'm changing my chameleon colours
And the game begins again...

***Welcome to the life of Xandi***