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I yodel, therefore I am

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Jan 30th, 2005 12:21 am - Pacific Time Journal
Our Innermost Organs

Pain twists in my heart
burning, churning
like a piece of art.

The art has paint,
it makes me faint
for I am no longer a saint.

Fumes in my head
they fill me with dread
as I lie here in bed
turning my eyes red.

There's a hole
in my soul
that makes me lose control
longing for release
from this pain which does not cease.

Kafka, country, history


Updated January 30th, '05 11:33am ( 1 ) Comments

Sep 15th, 2004 1:08 am - Pacific Time Journal
Pain (And By That I Mean the French Word for Bread)

Bread that's warm and chewy soft
It presses down on me aloft
And pushes in my nose and ears
A smell to warm my brain for years.

Is it something that I said?
That made me deserve all this bread?
All this fire that does distract
From things best handled with some tact?

Bread that's fresh with hardend crust.
Bread that's the object of my lust.
Bread that fills my greatest need.
Bread that's the object to which I plead.

Is this my fate?
To never find a mate?
To be awash in pathetic cries
Instead of love's more lasting ties?

To become a day old loaf of bread
Hardened by the world that fled.
Or the dough that I do dread
That tries to rise but falls instead.

Poem dedicated to my dear friend and muse.

Updated September 15th, '04 12:10pm ( 2 ) Comments

Jun 28th, 2003 12:54 am - Pacific Time Journal
Canada, Part Deux.

Fortunately, my traveling companion and I have been keeping a log of things that we've done and seen in Canada because otherwise I would be lost by now having done and seen so much in this past week.  

Well, Niki and I are back in Vancouver after having spent about two days (mostly in transit) on Vancouver Island in the city of Victoria.  There we stayed in another Hosteling International hostel by the waterfront.  When we first arrived at the hostel it was about 3 pm, we asked the rather ornery man at the front desk what we should do for the rest of the day that's interesting.  He suggested the museum and declared that he would eat his shoes if we didn't enjoy ourselves there.  When we told him we were thinking of having high tea instead, he told us that this was a silly idea, and that at most we should have English food for dinner at Oak Bay.  So we compromised and had high tea in Oak Bay.  

It was wonderfull.  I have a new appreciation for this whole tea business, and with all the yummy, fatty foods that were served and the time that the tea took, I find it a wonder that the Brittish could ever find time to run the Empire.  Perhaps this is the real secret to why they lost it.  You can't control India when you're spending an hour or two each afternoon eating fatty snacks which necessitate at minimum a one hour digestion/napping period.  I do think that I'm with the Brittish and would take Devonshire cream on scones to rulling India any day.

Hmm, high tea...scones...I could go for that right about now.  We found one on the cheap, maybe wednsday.  Well we'll have another quasi-Brittish experience to tell you about, citizens, rather soon.  

Updated June 29th, '03 12:07am ( 0 ) Comments

Jun 24th, 2003 10:29 am - Pacific Time Journal
It's Canada, eh!

I'm finally here with Niki in Canada.  Land of mounties, snow, and (thank goodness) free internet access in the public libraries.  

We arrived here last night after 36, count them with me, 36 hours on the Greyhound bus.  The bus wouldn't have been so bad I suppose if it had just been a day and a half of lovely scenery, sleeping, and listening to my cds, but instead it was 36 hours of inching along and being hearded in and out of the bus every hour or two as we stopped in ever podunky town from here to the border with Canada.  We stopped in towns that I had never heard of nor plan to hear from again such as Yreka, Loda, Tukane, and Cochitlan.  

We did, however, meet some interesting people on the bus.  Most of the way we talked to a pair of college boys from Salem, Oregon who had gone to Cabo San Lucas to drive up a car that belonged to a friend from Mexico to Oregon.  The car, however, broke down half way up the Baja penninsula, and they had to hitchike to Tijuana.  They got lucky (?) though and caught a ride most of the way up with a band of Federales (Mexican Federal Police).  Once in Tijuana, they hopped aboard a Greyhound and eventually ended up sitting behind us.  We also talked for a while with this quasi-hippie about our age who was returning to Washington after having worked in construction in Hawaii.  He spent most of the time talking about all of the neat protests that would be taking place soon against the use of genetically altered foods.  Unfortunately, he knew nothing about why genetically altering foods is bad (or good).  His entire argument for protesting against this injustice was "Genetically altering food is bad."  When I pointed out that genetic alteration in itself is not necessarily bad, and that indeed most fruits and vegetables that you eat are hybrids that have been bred to possess certain qualities, that it is the type of alteration that must be understood and perhaps protested against, he countered with the well thought out counter argument, "But genetic alteration is bad."  

The worst part about the bus, however, was neither the frequent stops nor the endless hours with which to fill with chatting but the night.  Sleeping was done only in a series of ever more uncomfortable yoga positions.  The ultimate goal in riding the bus is to hoard a full aisle for yourself in order to sleep more comfortably, but our bus was completely and utterly full during the night.  The holy grail of the grayhound eluded us.

But in any case, we made it in safely and really none the worse for wear into Vancouver, BC last night.  We walked from the central bus/train station to our hostel through Chinatown and Gas Town, decided it was not a place where we would want to stay, and went to sit down in a nice restaurant for dinner and to look up another hostel in comfort.  We found one in the guidebook a block away from where we were eating (on Davies, in the LGBT part of town), walked to it, and it was fantastic.  We booked two nights (tonight and the next, we did have to stay in the crappier hostel last night) right away, and then went out with some fellow hostelers from the new hostel to a pub.

It was new band night at the pub, and the band that was playing sounded like it should have debued several months from now after practicing a bit longer, but it was alright.  We made fun of the band with a few of the hostelers, had a shot a piece, and sang "woo-oo" (the band's favorite sound, sung every ten seconds, in every song) periodically on the way to the hostel.  

Now we're at the Vancouver public library, which is fantastic.  It's enormous, beautiful, and there was actually a line to get in the door when it opened.  Just imagine that one happening at your local library.  I can see why the lines though; it really is a fantastic space.  Soon we're going to check into the new, better hostel, and then it's off to Granville Island.    

Updated June 24th, '03 9:56pm ( 0 ) Comments

Jun 19th, 2003 8:00 am - Pacific Time Journal

I picked up my glasses yesterday, and I'm slightly perturbed.  The frames definetely look different now that I can see them more clearly on my face (with the lenses).  They're better than my old glasses, but they're not quite what I had expected.  This happened with my old frames too.  For glasses #3, I am definetley going to have to show up with a posse to tell me how they look because obviously I have a problem seeing and judging shape without my prescription glasses.

In any case, I'm hoping to try contacts next month.  There's no way to mess that up, right?

Updated June 19th, '03 7:05pm ( 0 ) Comments

Jun 17th, 2003 11:02 pm - Pacific Time Journal
The Cardboard Pieces by My Feet

School is over at long last, but I still feel stressed out.  I still feel supremely busy and incredibly overwealmed.  But by what now?  The amount of tv that I have to catch up on?  I just have a few more things to do and then nothing.  I have jury duty tomorrow.  I have to pay a few bills, make sure I'm enrolled in my class, unpack all of the stuff I brought back from my appartment today, and make sure I solicit the paperwork for my visa to Spain.  This is nothing compared to what I have been doing, yet I feel strangely stressed out, in need of more time, and busy.  

I'm also still getting up each morning (except for one) at seven in the morning.  I just feel like I have too much to do to stay asleep any longer than that.  And it's true, I do have important things to do, but not so important that I shouldn't be able to sleep until 8 am.  Well, I suppose we'll see tonight how the pattern evolves.  

Updated June 18th, '03 10:11am ( 0 ) Comments

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