I am filling this out at gunpoint. I swear.
26. idol(s)
Writers. Poets. Lovers of language, (wo)man! Is it a sin to have an idol? Or is it a sin to be afraid to let go and idolize away? (Those were not deep questions. Please do not think of or try to answer them.)
27. things i hate
I very much dislike being trapped inside on nice days. I also do not care for the clumps of hair in my shower drain.
28. i'll love you if...
you listen to me.
29. favourite film(s)
Lost in Translation, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, The Graduate, Annie Hall
30. favourite tv show(s)
Breaking Bad, British comedies, Girls
31. 3 random facts
In 4th grade I got into trouble for purposely kicking over a bucket of paste. In 3rd grade I pulled out the chair of a crush right before he sat down, making him fall on the floor and making everyone else laugh at his expense. In 2nd grade I must have done something and learned a few things, but I have no memory of any of it. I honestly can't remember a lick of 2nd grade. BUT! But in 1st grade I had a boyfriend named Trent and we played cars during recess, which just means that he pretended to be a car and I pretended to drive him and fill him up with petrol. Mind out of the gutter, folks.
32. are your friends mainly girls or guys?
They are mainly gender neutral, K?
33. something you want to learn
French, assertiveness, calculus.
34. most embarrassing moment
Probably something to do with farting in front of a crush. I dunno.
35. favourite subject
Cute! Okay, let's pretend like I'm in grade school again. Okay, so. SO. FavoUrite subject. English. English because all of my teachers were failed poets and I probably related to them or something. And books are pretty okay. And science! I like science. Science makes sense!
36. 3 dreams you want to fulfill?
I want to live simply along a coast, perhaps in a yurt. I want to allow my writing to develop and take me somewhere. Maybe having a PhD would be shit rad.
37. favourite actor/actress
I will watch anything with the divine Tilda Swinton. Oh, and is that John john Malkovich? And could that be Bill Murray? What a flick! I'll pay for a ticket!
38. favourite comedian(s)
Looooooouis Cccccc K. And am I Maria Bamford? In my dreams.
39. favourite sport(s)
It will always be women's softball.
40. favourite memory
I block out every memory, even the favoUrite ones, because memories are vicious. They are the key ingredient to misery. But if I had to choose, I'd say I really dig the memory of writing this post. Such a great survey. Such a great time. Such remarkable memories.
41. relationship status
Single and ready to Munch-n-Mingle at the local singles ward!
42. favourite book(s
Let's get fuggin' serious, okay? Okay. So. Frannie and Zooey. The Brothers K. Something by Alan Watts. Anything by Lorrie Moore. And I'm sure there are more that I have yet to discover. Let me discover them, okay? Stop asking me to hang out! Let me read instead!
43. favourite song ever
Ugh. Probably "Two Step" by Mr. Dave Matthews and his band. Celebrate we will. Because life is short but sweet for certain.
44. age you get mistaken for
17. All of the time. (But what if it was 44? That would be super spooky because this is question number 44 and I forget what else I was going to say and I think it's for the best that I stop this super spooky survey.)
Saturday, November 30, 2013
residual
I wonder sometimes if the little things I mindlessly do are somehow impacting the life of someone on the other side of the planet. Like, will this discarded plastic cup lead to the imminent demise of a kind shopkeeper in Kyoto? Maybe stepping on these cracks will throw a Chinese man onto the tracks just in time to get slammed by the 5 o'clock train. Simple actions could lead to devastating consequences, and often they do. It's the cancerous nature of existence.
But where is our sensitivity? Did it die out with the Dodo or fade away with the phonograph? If I knew the weight that this plastic cup holds, would I still choose to toss it due to convenience? I do everyday. I empty out what doesn't directly serve me in search of pure pleasure. A syrup. We have evolved into waffles, waiting to be suffocated under the warmth of thick sap. (Your mouth can't even say those words without getting momentarily stuck. Try it.)
So maybe our homemade wings which we think are so delicate desecrate the land that is lost on the map. But it's not our loss. So pass the butter, please. I'm polite and hungry and blind.
But where is our sensitivity? Did it die out with the Dodo or fade away with the phonograph? If I knew the weight that this plastic cup holds, would I still choose to toss it due to convenience? I do everyday. I empty out what doesn't directly serve me in search of pure pleasure. A syrup. We have evolved into waffles, waiting to be suffocated under the warmth of thick sap. (Your mouth can't even say those words without getting momentarily stuck. Try it.)
So maybe our homemade wings which we think are so delicate desecrate the land that is lost on the map. But it's not our loss. So pass the butter, please. I'm polite and hungry and blind.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
wander
Do I want to come home or do I want to wander? These two conflicting desires occupy most of the space in my brain. It has been a full-time job just trying to figure out which general direction I wish to walk. Or jog. Or run, except I run for the wrong reasons. I run to get away from things/people/places. I don't run to things. I never have and I doubt I ever will.
So walk. So walking it is. I will walk towards and on a path that I alone choose. So choice. It's my choice. That means the mistakes are on my already heavy shoulders. Should I even care? Wouldn't it be better to be reckless and daring? The moment I shy away from the spontaneous is the moment I shy away from the gunshot that signifies the race has begun.
But then again, I won't run. I will walk. I will dip my toes in and test the waters. I'll watch what others do before I decide to dive. This is simply the who and what I am and I don't think I need to change. Of course, the only thing one can count on is change. So will I change my mind on change? Or will I just ask for more spare change so I can continue my life of meandering through the thoughts that fill my head?
I figure both my dreams and nightmares serve a purpose. I figure I may not figure it out. I figure I'll get a decent night's sleep tonight. Let us give thanks for that.
So walk. So walking it is. I will walk towards and on a path that I alone choose. So choice. It's my choice. That means the mistakes are on my already heavy shoulders. Should I even care? Wouldn't it be better to be reckless and daring? The moment I shy away from the spontaneous is the moment I shy away from the gunshot that signifies the race has begun.
But then again, I won't run. I will walk. I will dip my toes in and test the waters. I'll watch what others do before I decide to dive. This is simply the who and what I am and I don't think I need to change. Of course, the only thing one can count on is change. So will I change my mind on change? Or will I just ask for more spare change so I can continue my life of meandering through the thoughts that fill my head?
I figure both my dreams and nightmares serve a purpose. I figure I may not figure it out. I figure I'll get a decent night's sleep tonight. Let us give thanks for that.
unlearn
I've been trapped in a slow cooker for the past two and a half years. But am I really trapped? Or am I actually free to marinate, enhancing my eventual flavor for when the taste buds finally show up at the door?
I might be constantly cold and roasting in my own ruins at the same time. There is a pleasant balance to be found in there, I think. A perverted pleasant balance, but a balance nonetheless.
A large chunk of my life has been spent in school. That chunk was tied together with string, keeping my stuffing inside. Nothing is terribly rare about this background. In fact, it's just another traditional flavor and color added to life, like milestone birthdays and baptisms.
Now my challenge is to avoid evaporation. How do I retain what I gained for nearly three decades? It has become impossible for me to have hope in the possibility of overcoming the impossible.
I want to lay down my pens and plans and books and potential and just become. I want to become whatever I would have become without the string, without the low temperature learning. I want to unlearn. I want to dispose and start empty and whole. I want to look at a tree and see it as a thing struggling to reach the sky, no matter how twisted the branches.
I don't want it to have a name. I don't want it to be claimed.
I might be constantly cold and roasting in my own ruins at the same time. There is a pleasant balance to be found in there, I think. A perverted pleasant balance, but a balance nonetheless.
A large chunk of my life has been spent in school. That chunk was tied together with string, keeping my stuffing inside. Nothing is terribly rare about this background. In fact, it's just another traditional flavor and color added to life, like milestone birthdays and baptisms.
Now my challenge is to avoid evaporation. How do I retain what I gained for nearly three decades? It has become impossible for me to have hope in the possibility of overcoming the impossible.
I want to lay down my pens and plans and books and potential and just become. I want to become whatever I would have become without the string, without the low temperature learning. I want to unlearn. I want to dispose and start empty and whole. I want to look at a tree and see it as a thing struggling to reach the sky, no matter how twisted the branches.
I don't want it to have a name. I don't want it to be claimed.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
lead
"Myself imprisons me. The lead shield of my habits, that heavy, soft bluish-grey dead defence." -Jeanette Winterson, Art & Lies
Monday, November 25, 2013
coco-nuts
Maybe I'm saner than I realize. Maybe I feel insane because everyone else in the world is insane and being the only sane person in an insane world will occasionally make one believe that they are insane. Know what I'm sayin'?
Belief. So what do I believe? I guess I believe in binges. I go on binges with different beliefs, be they religious or secular. I go on binges with people, be they dreamboats or dipshits. I binge on what I am denied and I also binge on denial. Only the sane binge, I promise.
Something's going to happen soon, I think. I fear. I hope. I am! I am everything I think, fear, and hope. And I am determined to abandon it all. I am determined to wake up on my own deserted island after being knocked out by a coconut of my own creation. Where there's a will, there's a way. Where there's a tropical tree, there is hanging fruit. (And he swore coconuts were nuts, not fruit. After some diligent research, it turns out coconuts are indeed a part of the fruit family. See? I'm not as insane as I claim.)
Belief. So what do I believe? I guess I believe in binges. I go on binges with different beliefs, be they religious or secular. I go on binges with people, be they dreamboats or dipshits. I binge on what I am denied and I also binge on denial. Only the sane binge, I promise.
Something's going to happen soon, I think. I fear. I hope. I am! I am everything I think, fear, and hope. And I am determined to abandon it all. I am determined to wake up on my own deserted island after being knocked out by a coconut of my own creation. Where there's a will, there's a way. Where there's a tropical tree, there is hanging fruit. (And he swore coconuts were nuts, not fruit. After some diligent research, it turns out coconuts are indeed a part of the fruit family. See? I'm not as insane as I claim.)
Sunday, November 24, 2013
only
I'm living an invisible existence. I have been for almost a decade now. I don't know how to reappear. I don't know how to stop starting every sentence with "I." Are we deceiving ourselves? Are we blocking our departures from the Self? Maybe we are more fantastic than we realize and the "I" driven sentences are more than justified. I tried. I keep on trying.
People take holidays. They TAKE them and enjoy them and pay extra for extra and come home with some pretty pictures. How can I be that person? That seems so orderly and nice. Here, here is your vacation and here, here is your pill of relief and moment of escape. There! Now you are refreshed and ready to clock in again. When is your lunch break? Would you like to talk about the stock market with me for 30 minutes over a barbecue chicken sub? Then we can begin all over again tomorrow.
I don't know. I don't know if I am destined for anything other than a yurt in the Northwest. I'll place all my bets on that and hope for the best.
You are looking really good tonight. You are looking remarkable, in fact. Let me take you home. Let me plant you in the soil I have yet to buy. (And why do we have to buy the earth where we will retire to? Is this a sick joke or just a vacation from the norm? I want my bones to fade away for free. I want to leave no trace except for an escape.) But it's true. It's true that you look good tonight.
People take holidays. They TAKE them and enjoy them and pay extra for extra and come home with some pretty pictures. How can I be that person? That seems so orderly and nice. Here, here is your vacation and here, here is your pill of relief and moment of escape. There! Now you are refreshed and ready to clock in again. When is your lunch break? Would you like to talk about the stock market with me for 30 minutes over a barbecue chicken sub? Then we can begin all over again tomorrow.
I don't know. I don't know if I am destined for anything other than a yurt in the Northwest. I'll place all my bets on that and hope for the best.
You are looking really good tonight. You are looking remarkable, in fact. Let me take you home. Let me plant you in the soil I have yet to buy. (And why do we have to buy the earth where we will retire to? Is this a sick joke or just a vacation from the norm? I want my bones to fade away for free. I want to leave no trace except for an escape.) But it's true. It's true that you look good tonight.
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