Peacock Skeleton With Crooked Feathers

Sometimes I don't even recognize myself. In pictures, in the mirror, from this summer and summers past, sometimes in my own writing. Not because I look any different than usual, but because it's as if I never really knew me. These days, nothing much happens, and I am letting weeks go by without even noticing. Christmas is in less than a month now, and that means I am even closer to my Ontario trip. By the time I get there, it will have been 4 solid months away from Ontario. 4 much needed months away.

It's snowing a blue streak here, extremely cold with a snowfall warning in effect. I didn't leave the house today. Instead, I cleaned my room, read a book by the fire, and ate cookies. Glorious.

Every day, I look more and more like a 15-year-old boy. I don't really bother with my hair anymore, which of course only makes it look it's best, and working at a clothing store only further improves my style (and expands my wardrobe). I now own 17 pairs of jeans. That I wear. I won't even try to count the number of t-shirts I have, because obviously a jeans-and-t-shirt girl will have a lot of jeans and t-shirts. And really, really cute shoes.

I digress.

Christmas is coming, and I've sold my soul to the devil. I am the retail whore, in chains and fire and brimstone and on the road to perdition.

I present my newest tattoo (from September 10th, 2006):

Alone Together

We can never have it quite good enough. We can never keep it, no matter what. nothing in this life was meant to last forever; even the tiniest particle, the largest indestructible force will collapse someday. To my left sits a book on quantum physics, Miles Davis' album Kind of Blue (the essential jazz recording), photographs, unopened bars of dark belgian chocolate, and unused rolls of film. Right in front of me sits a large, glowing, white screen that is full of promise.



I want to write tonight. A want is very different than a can, a want is an impulsive, fleeting feeling that could logically pass at any given moment. I can. I can write tonight. "I can" is too ambitious. I want to can. I wish the can were so easy.

Another one of the things I wish I could can at this very moment is photograph. I wish my camera worked tonight. I wish everything that was ever possible and open to me was possible right now. I wish every opportunity for me to do the right thing presented itself right now: I should look you in the eye. I should say something. I should do something. I should leave the house. I should place that phone call. I should send that email. I should write that letter. I should've kissed you. I should be there with you. I should, I should, I should. I would. I will. I shouldn't be afraid, not even once, up to the very second before the second I die. In that last second, I will allow a small amount of tangible fear to flood the second before I no longer am awake.



It's this moment of beauty, the endless hours before daylight where only the photographs on my wall keep me company. The loneliest time of my life is yet to come, I've decided. I'm sure anyone could be more alone than me, now or then. or later. But for now, I can't comprehend that. I can only hope it won't choke me for too long.

Sometimes I feel that movies are more real than real life. Silly, I know, but it's sometimes only in movies where everything about a scene is noticed and recorded and utterly meaningful. What happens to the details in real life that no one sees? Are they lost forever in the vacuum of space, or are they recorded somewhere and kept as archives? It's this and other things that plague me from day to day.



I dedicate this time in my life to all those who will never read this, from the cute guy who works at the Y, to the boy i know who lives far away and far off in my mind. To everyone else that will never know me. Perhaps one day this will all mean something, perhaps there is a reason I have no reason. I have no direction, and no way to know for sure. But I lay my trust in the rush of fate.

I Am One, But I Asked For Two

I've become mind-numbingly complacent over the past couple days, and my mother is in California so I've been alone for the most part. I can't understand why I feel nothing, I do what I have to do but don't care about anything else otherwise. It sucks. At the very least, I went snowboarding with my Aussie friend in the mountains yesterday, remembered that I'm alive and why.

Sometimes I hate the past more than I love it and miss it, but I can't hate it because it's what's made me. The last two years of my life have been huge, but I'm completely positive that the next 10 will be just as crazy and lonely and full of adventure.

I miss my friends. There are many certain other things that I do not miss. And I need to move on.

Seeking Solace In Science

Tonight, I walked home 2 hours straight from the mall, in the soggy snowy streets and with the foggy sunny sky turning into moony darkness. I walked for no reason, I could've taken the bus or gotten a ride, but I mostly needed the time to think and wallow. I needed my feet to keep moving in order to keep from imploding. I stopped at Chapters and bought a book on quantum physics and another on syncronicity, and got a soy peppermint mocha. I got home, felt a bit better, burned an awesome CD (track list below) and sat down to read by the fire.

I've become quite depressed recently and sometimes it feels as if nothing will make me happy again. It feels as though there is nothing keeping me afloat except for my friends, because I know they care about me. I feel really numb most of the time. So, technically, I don't feel at all. I can only hope it will get better with time. I hope I won't continue to sink deeper.

Wallowing Playlist (good for wallowing, depression, or just enjoying being melancholy):

1. World Waits by Jeremy Enigk
2. It's In Your Blood by Lydia
3. Lovely & Blue by Ryan Adams
4. Golden Star by My Brightest Diamond
5. Crowd Surf Off A Cliff by Emily Haines & the Soft Skeleton
6. Hold On, Hold On by Neko Case
7. Summertime Feat. Billie Holiday & Louis Armstrong
8. Set The Fire To The Third Bar by Snow Patrol Feat. Martha Wainwright
9. Waltz Moore by From First To Last
10. Trouble by Coldplay
11. Slow Dancing In A Burning Room by John Mayer
12. I've Been Thinking by Handsome Boy Modeling School Feat. Cat Power
13. December (Demo) by Regina Spektor
14. You Could Be Happy by Snow Patrol
15. Lines Bleed by Pony Up!
16. Airbag by Radiohead
17. Radio by The Silent Years

Guten nacht. I'm ready for a sleep. I'm ready for nothing at all.