Portrait of the Artist

playing with photo programs...


funnn


80's style!

Normally I don't post photos of my online. or if I do, I take them down.
But this is just having fun. I mean, I hardly look like myself in any of these pictures, thus, I have fun with it. messing with the hues and such.
It's fun, what can I say?
Fuckers

reuse

You wreck me
My lover,
this half empty bottle,
my only companion.
A toast-
to poison on all fronts.
the sweetness to my lips,
the cold bite on my tongue.
The burn in my gut,
The cloud in my mind.
Cheers-
to cloudy days.
to rain and pain.
to smirnoff
to turn us off.
to my friend,
hand on knife.
You wreck me-
in my cloudy lungs,
in my drowning throat,
my dying cells.
cheers-
to my favourite cancer
in the stick.
A toast-
to the boy who ruined me,
whose men could put humpty
together again.



with every slide i take
another layer of you rubs off
into the air
high above my head
and you're humming along
to words i haven't written yet
with every strum i take
your steps meet up the beat
perfectly
this accident was meant to be
If you could see me

Another view of the stage... yes... old news....

and just because I can, AVA EATING ROAST BEEF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!




or... trying to

I wish I had grown up with a family that wasn't so afraid of eachother.
I wish I could have learned guitar from my dad.
I wish I could have sung with my brother.
I wish I could have done these things.

Instead I grew with a family that did not know what Love was.
Or rather, their love was a private kind,
Do Not Disturb kind.
There was no showing.

I wish I could have sung with them.
I could have gotten farther,
sooner,
stronger.
I could have been what I'm afraid I will never be

The steed in the valley of love is pain

I've been trying. I really have.
and in many ways, I've come a ways along.
But at the end of the day, when I look over what I've acheived, and where I stand, they are still completely different things.
I am still standing in the same place. I'm just shifting my weight around.
I still love him.
I still can't imagine loving anyone else like him.
I can't be taken off of him. I just can't be detoured from this dead end.

It's terrible. He came before everyone else. I've loved him longer than I've known almost all of my friends. I just don't... know when and where it will end. when will this change? when will I feel better again?
Every person I have been with since him, was an attempt to forget him. To show myself that I can love and be loved by another person very easily.
and for a while, I would forget, or rather, temporarily lose sight of him.
but everytime, I fell back to him. not because it was easy, but simply because it was better. it was real.
I thought.
and so I ruined my relationships with those people, so I could end the lie I had placed in them. I had used them to get away from him, and it wasn't working. they weren't doing the job. so I ended it.
and I've ended that form of lying.
Instead of lying to myself through other people, I decided to lie only to myself. Fool myself into another world where he's only a small part, where he is just a guy I know from two cities over. Just another guy....
But even that is beginning to fail.

He's met a girl. and I knew he would. I even wrote an entry about it a while ago, about how he would find this amazing, beautiful girl and fall in love and so on... and he has. He's met a girl, and he's happy. and good for him.
and all I want to do is fly away, just jump off my balcony and soar over the lake towards the ocean and leave, fly so high and fast that the memory of him is blown out through my ears and I forget the sound of his voice. My eyes forget what he looks like. So high into the troposphere that my heart freezes and forgets what it's like to love, to pine, to die a slow and wrenching death.

I'm so tired. I'm breaking all over again, and the only thing to make the pain go away is the pain itself...

I hate feeling doomed like this.
I wish I could love someone who loves me back just as much, and I wish that love would be greater than this love...
but it doesn't...
I don't want to feel anymore. I just want to do what I've managed to do this past couple weeks: to just be a robot, to be preoccupied (if momentarily) by creative processes, by healthier obsessions...
but to whom do I share it with...
it's terrible. I'm finally feeling what people feel: the need to share their life with someone else. to be with someone who gets it, who understands, who appreciates everything the same way that you do. and here I thought I had found him, the one guy who gets it. And he does get it, but he doesn't want me. He gets me, but doesn't ask for it.
doesn't even know it, it seems.
but then, he gets a lot of people, doesn't he?

I wish I could cut this part out of me and continue on and have that hole filled with something healthier, happier, more fulfilling.

I'm so tired.
I miss him so much.

night scrawlings

It was a cold night in a cold town that ought to have been warm, and a whool coat wasn't cutting it.
A cold wind was ruffling her already messy hair. the rain wasn't helping either.
Hardly a night and day had gone by without rain in the last month. An Anomoly for the big smoke, and for the first time in her life, she wanted the sun.
Or rather, she wanted to be dry for at least a day.
But also, like every other night it had rained while she walked home from her empty job, she enjoyed the rain. Nothing else seemed to make sense to her other than the rain. Her world was dying, why not let it weep?
She certainly had.
An unsettling and mysterious certainty had filled her, and she was not the kind of person to have such revelations: She was right. She had always known, always thought in the back of her mind, and for some reason, she felt conclusion. Why, she didn't know. Nothing had brought on this sudden conformation, Nothing had provoked the bitterness (yet ease) that followed it.
It was a simple feeling. No longer a desperate hope, but a simple "It is done."
He had left. he had taken the first flight and left the province, and by now was probably stoned in a city with a backdrop of mountains and glaciers, the very sight that made her weep as a child.
He was gone. Moved into a dream she used to have, and like dreams, was gone by the time she awoke.
and she was awake.
In walking through the tears of the world, she awoke for the first time to the nature of life.
It was another thing she had always known about, but Tonight she finally felt what it truly meant.
Nothing.
There was no longer meaning in the world she walked through.
And when she gets home, she will take her coat off, make small chat with her room mate, go to her room, and instead of cry, cut the part out of her that tugs at the corners of heart and eyes, put it on her night stand, and go to sleep listening to the radio.
She would continue, unchanged.
For while his leaving had been sudden, she had known it was coming, and for once in her life, had prepared.

It is done, she thought, her eyes finally taking the weight off her shoulders, thus freeing her headache.
And now, I am alone. And now, I am free, and I can be myself again, whoever that may be

Aah, that was it.

you look like an angel,
your eyes are blind, hear not my screams
lifting me to clear blue skies
drop on my head, breaking my neck and my
dreamings are oozing out of my skull,
into your hands,
cupfuls of handfuls of
imaginations and loving.
You look like an angel I used to know.
standing over me dangling a string and
catching my eyes in your snare,
caving me in, inside your palms.
I put on a dress for you
made of cement and glass and barbed wire
a sign says "KEEP OUT" but you're to know better
why aren't you coming? why aren't you coming?
after all my fondest of invitations,
you're superman: break through the walls
like you did last night, my fever dreams took off.
You look like superman,
this guy I knew.
I've been waiting for you for a long time.
The windows are crashing, the balcony is falling,
the cars are crushed, street lights flickering
(they just went out and)
my oven won't finish cooking dinner.
Where did my superman go?
You look like the angel from my falsities.
But you're too kind to be him.
Have a good night, drink deep

So I sit in my smoke room
and watch pearson planes take off
my lava lamps reflection,
listening to money.
money money,
and the fools above me
blasting their bass
their whoops
and such...

and its pissing me off

It's a strange experience, talking to someone you haven't seen in over a year.
I haven't seen him in about that long, and I still haven't seen him, but it's the first time I've communicated with him at all in that same time period.
and this is a guy who I thought would wean me from the other. Someone I put a lot of hope into, someone who was, certainly, on a par with another.
in a sense.
someone that is hard to forget. But I have gone days without thinking about him, weeks without thinking about him. months without dwelling on him.
needless to say, I do miss him. I used to see him everyday. and he really was someone who I cared about, and clearly didn't care all that much for me.
given the different extent we went to, it was clear that he didn't give a shit.

and talking to him now, isn't any different.
and it makes me hate myself, because that makes me a person I, and everyone else, would never want to be:
pointless.
It's clear that I didn't make a single mark on this persons life. which is painful, because I tried to mean something, I tried to send a message, to make a difference, and my attempts bounced off him like bullets off of superman. talking to him now, I have to initiate everything. he speaks in sentences no longer than he needs to make them. bitter.

terrible.

and I still miss him.

strange how that works.

at least the other humours my attempts and acknowledges my existance. at times.

terrible

Maybe that's how people deal with this.
Moving out on your own... it really does create a void, something that can only be filled by being with someone. and even just hanging out with them or whatever...
maybe thats why so many people are so oriented by relationships with the opposite (or same) sex. Because thats how most people deal with it.

I come to this conclusion only because it's my third full day here in oakville, and I'm alone.. and I really wish I had someone.

terrible feeling, because I know that when it comes down to it, I DONT want someone. that way. but when night time comes along, and I'm on my balcony, looking at the view, I'm wishing at least someone was here, looking at it with me, feeling the same thing I feel.

all i've got is a cat. and I'm thankful for her, but... it's a cat.
can't have a conversation with a cat.

it's terrible. I dont like being this way.
I hope those girls hurry up and move in.

at least at home, All I had to do was wait for my mom to get home, and then for the Daily Show and Colbert report.
I have neither now.

so....

I turn to my guitar.

spirit of the radio

so I'm here in Oakville now.
I'll be here alone for the next two weeks. then Calista will be up a little bit, and eventually both of them will join me.
My cat isn't very happy. she's been under my couch all day, sulking. hasn't eaten yet... I worry, but what can I do, really.
I've talked to mom a couple times, called dad today. I'm getting together with my uncle Chris tomorrow for lunch, he's going to try and help me find a job. big help, that guy.
went out today for a bit. didn't go anywhere new though... just wasn't up to it. i'm not feeling the greatest. the change in air really does have an effect on you. you go from smelling manure and rain to smelling smog and acid rain. it's a huge change. the air is thicker too... very un-friendly atmosphere.
environment wise.
I can't tell about the people yet. it's a nice city, don't get me wrong... but I'm very iffy on everything.
I don't like being alone here.

I tried cleaning the windows today, but I couldn't do it. it's just.. rediculous, what the weather and lack of up-keep has done to them. you have to scrum like crazy to get a small area clean, and these windows are BIG. a whole wall is glass, and I can see trees and a bit of the lake.

nice view...

I'm still lonely though. it wouldn't be so bad if I had tv either, but... damn. if I had tv, I would be even lazier and not want to go out at all.

fuck man... the next two weeks better go by quick.
anyway, I'm going to install my wall sconce or something. fuck....



last night was hell.

it's my last night in my home town.
I'm not too sure what to say about it...
we all expect it: the bitter-sweet feeling of leaving your home to go out on your own. Afraid, excited.
I still don't think I'm moving tomorrow. it hasn't quite hit me. waves come, but no flood.. yet.
I don't understand how people can do this their entire lives: Build a home for yourself, surround yourself with beautiful, amazing people. the kind you are so thankful to have met, because you know there aren't any others like them. and then you leave them, to go out and start over again.
knowing you'll never have the same thing.

and change is good.
it's beautiful...
when you need it.
And, yes, I need it. I truly do need the change (no more working at the pro, no more stirling, time for taste), but I'm afraid the taste will blind me. I'm afraid this sudden change in water will drown me.
I'm afraid I've gotten in over my head...
I'm risking so much (yet nothing), I've put my entire life on a line I know nothing about (it could be made of spiders web... though, some of those are strong).
I could be all alone... and I will be. No one will be in that apartment, when all is said and done. Angus will go to his birthday party for his buddy, Mom and Dad will go home...
and I will be alone, in a city I know nothing about, inside of an area I've only seen a few times.

This time tomorrow, I will be all alone, with nothing but the cold, disheartening airwaves to save me.
and they're invisible...

(I wish someone would come with me)

I'm so afraid...