XXXV: no world, YOU come and get ME.

It goes a little something like this:
Easy! is! boring! But if you talk about easy with enthusiasm
you win.
:):):) lolcat.
Step away from the keyboard, put your hands on your head.
Do you know why I pulled you over?
Fine 75, not 81. Fine $118, not $200. Fine, THE ADULTS ARE FIN(E)ALLY CAVING IN
TO GENERATION IMMEDIATE GRATIFICATION.
A weekend solidified the turn of events:
we. are. older. (they). seem. younger?
Power is shifting, tectonic dinner plates are shifting as we sit in the dining room (and give thanks) while they eat in the kitchen (and talk money). We are beginning to run the
universe (with our, with out) university
educations.
"Give" me my piece of paper, this is not supposed to be easy.

XXXIV: Ode to 9th

There is definitely something special about not having to say what you want to get it but there is something so practical it's magical about not having to make people guess.
What if now is my time?
Live music is magic
________is religious
________is hard
________is expensive
It was a calm and young like it
was a temporary exchange it
was everything it
had to be and now it
is over. Relationships are a careful science.
We do have control over our feelings to some extent and that
is a relief.

XXXIII: bullet bias

Psychology! You cant keep it out of the kitchen.
...skim it, hit, hit, hit, every time the mouse clicks the Search party is one step closer to hitting close to home. It is always the "-lessness" that worries us as the temperature drops. You deserve to experience the microwave oven.
This Is America. There will be no horseplay while waiting in line because there will be no line. If you perceive a line, then you belong in a certain category of Human. Which one? Well, we think we know, but we know we really do not know.
For how many more years will we tire after turkey? Trip-ta, what? Good for Wiki!
I am thankful for Psychology, I am thankful for the kitchen - but -
Please, keep your fingers out of my salad.

XXXII: greedy green tea

The ride is free, but temporary. We use them, we must maintain them.
Tonight we realize how not to settle when the distant shore beckons because we were once told that we could swim underwater while breathing.
No silence ever visits but a strong calm pervades.
A salty shoreline understands the tear drop, drop of sweat
drop down and give me fifty
does the ground contextualize your tense step?
The current carries it. The current carries all.

XXXI: Ode to symmetry

Starting with a new city, old friends, old favourites, new replacements.

Outside when the warm summer nights are long, we wish for winter - but we don't even know. Both seasons have reasons for someone to love them! As do all people? Who can say; To the end of time, to symmetry, to color coordination! Balance in a time of opposition and change can certainly ease the transition. Vague? There are personality disorders everywhere. Learn about them, appreciate them, love them. We are all an imperfect human, searching for symmetry in hopes of creating an even life. Can you even control both sides, so as to make sure that they are the same? No, but to understand each side better, more intimately with strong and timely confrontation, is key.

XXX: finally

this is going to be the first stream in a long long time which probably means it will be a long stream! that is a logical conclusion i suppose. and then it all turns into the question of whether or not we are making logical conclusions about the events in our lives and the people who bring those events upon us, (do people bring events? am i an event bringer?) these are the questions... and we continue in our travels to find a little white car and in the little white car are three little white girls! three little white girls in one little white car! can you imagine what they speak of? no. yes. probably but not right now. just kidding, no one can ever really tell what someone else is thinking unless they are completely honest and even if they are completely honest some "twang" (she hates that word, twang, and twang isn't even the right word) some twang in thought is lost in translation from thought to thing - thought to tongue to word to you to ear to brain to brain to brains! to brains! the reason we have not been devoured by the animals who are much stronger than we! oh human nature, oh the human condition i mean, really, we could have gone extinct but our instincts protected us and now we just incessantly tease nature and pretend that we are in control but we aren't. oh no, the mountains could eat us and the oceans could swallow us without any qualms - not a qualm in the world - yet we run. we can hide in the trees shadows and build big buildings and cities to cover our bare heads and even use sun umbrellas, sunbrellas! to block ourselves from direct contact with the world - but the wind does not discriminate. the air that travels from a desert in arizona and reaches three little white girls in a suburban backyard will not stop at the face of a certain someone or a big, black umbrella or even a fluffy puppy dog the wind is a force that affects everything, a breeze that touches travels stings soothes sweeps slips blows bellows moves - so, this means that math is magic.

there is something so liberating about telling the complete truth, in a careful fashion so as not to offend anyone of course, but the only way to get what you want is to make it clear that you want it! sometimes life can seem so simple, too simple and the most complicated aspect of the simple life is that there is not a distinct answer or reason as to WHY at one time it feels easy and at another, impossible. i dont even care if what comes out is a cliche because the point of this exercise is for cliches to come out and then cliche cliche natural cliche cliche mine. and that process is important as are many processes like the process of progress and the process of putting together outfits and fastening each buckle and strap on my ski boots and making a fruit smoothie taste different every time or filling up the gas tank - filling up the gas tank = taking a poop = the feeling that you can go anywhere.

friends are so intricate. and then there comes a time when friends are a science, a mild science (no a soft science, oh perhaps a soft science) but psychology and friends and games and reasons are all wrapped up in the big, fat elephant problem that all people have and that is the fear. the fear can be crippling or it can save lives and that is an opinion - and a regret is a fear that has not been confronted - to continue on this note the fear of saying what you mean or feel, the fear of not being able to say what you feel or think, the fear of being misunderstood, the fear of not being understood at all. i wish to tell everyone i care about what they mean in my life or act in a way that lets them know this YET it is not necessary to think so much! it is a liberating job, telling the whole truth and once you start it is much easier than you imagine... i sometimes find myself thinking too much and head space is only my best space when i am exercising or in the natural world. i will happily live alone if i think outside.

to take a song from another time and use it to travel there is a natural and powerful process - it is as if music albums are audio versions of photo albums and remembering the feeling from that first listen (or the most important listen) remembering the feeling of that first love (or the most important love) is remembering, and actually sensing, the feeling of that particular moment in your time... and a photo is less honest because it stopped time to take place... the heart beat does not stop, the drum beat does not stop, the song cant be destroyed, nor the words but the ART and the PAGES and the PHOTOS can all be destroyed - appreciating the temporary nature is necessary - maybe there are too many words in these sentences but sometimes too many is best because i can choose which ones i want to keep and which ones i want to ignore! how exciting! to sit in one spot for a couple of hours and type without stopping is always a fun thing to do but it always takes me time like until right about now when i get a steady flow going and i really do not let myself stop, i dont think this is a race but i do think it is a race to the heart of what i really want to speak about - then i lose it and i have to go on a special little tangent about the electric piano that is in this room hahaha i dont even know if it is called that oh no! it slipped my mind now i remember it is called a keyboard and the best is when my mom sits at the little stool and presses the automatic button and jams like she's the queen because you know what, if i had 2 children and an animal in my house i guess i could feel like a queen, anyway the piano is a cute little instrument there and to my right are three guitars, no four - one is my little lefty taylor - i dont know much but i do know that i want to know more, and that is a start. i wish i could really write the songs i want to hear but sometimes other people get so close, so spot on that i feel like it is their job, not mine - and before when i said "the best is when," well people of say, "the best is when this" followed by someone else saying "yea, and the best is also when this," and my funny friend said there can kind of only be one best and sometimes that is true but other times that is true for a moment, there can be a best of one time frame... there are so many best of's and the best of's are always honestly the best.

XXVIV: zero percent battery

This is a result of battery complications! When energy levels are up, we multitask; Suffer. When energy levels are Down, we take it slow; prosper.
The battery must be dysfunctional.
The watch will cause such complications. Always
take off time to type the script. Don't distract the artist, don't feed the audience, and please, please, please turn off your cellphones. For your viewing pleasure, we will only show the blueprints after the film and we won't really tell you that they are available. To discover art is to stumble upon the secrets that are not meant to be kept.

XXVIII: madmen

The ivory leather couch feels cool against my sunburned skin.
t
I lay into the episode and drift t t like the t did before me. Welcome to Ramble Ci ty population no stopping not even for passengers with a lot of money. How much money you ask? No questions allowed - keep to the left, Sir. View on the right. A picturesque rolling hill with green grass and brown mud&/or sticks! Mud and sticks and s
'
mores.
And that will be all, Miss.

XXVII: This needs to happen

At one time or another it was incredibly obvious that failure was out of the question. The question became whether or not success was elusive. Sometimes it is easier to believe in the possibility of a better life than to actually live one. That is why so many people fall sick each evening after dessert in the city, or the suburbs for that matter. Who or what was ever responsible for the Salmonella? People will order what they want, and people will ask for more of what they want, and some people will insinuate that you've provided too little. Didn't you hear? Passive aggressiveness is the new black! While the clock slows, the eggs still will not cook themselves. For here or to go, Sir?

XXVI: Not keeling

Sometimes saying something common backwards makes it sound more interesting, but sometimes saying that same something so many times in a row makes it sound strange. Try it: Sailboat, sailboat, sailboat, sailboat, sailboat, sailboat, sailboat, sailboat, sailboat, sailboat, sailboat, sailboat, sailboat, sailboat, sailboat, sailboat, sailboat, sailboat, sailboat. Now tell me, just what is sailboat? A word, you say, (what is word?) Referring to an object, (what is object?) used as a method of travel, (what is travel?) It is what you see when you close your eyes and say sailboat but instead hear windblown, white-capped waters, stubborn and sunburned youth in salty life jackets ducking under the mast at "Ready about!" as all aboard change direction through the eye of the wind. What are you spewing? I said, Don't judge the English major... She's just excited is all, is all. Too much time in Starbucks will do that to you. Too much time can make you realize there are more and more strange people in the world, and the older you get the stranger all of the strangers seem and all the more strange you feel around them. Isn't it strange? Try it: Strange, strange, strange, strange, strange, strange, strange, strange, strange, strange, strange, strange, strange, strange, strange, strange, strange, strange, strange... See? It is just a word.

XXIV: panoramic cruise ship

A funny thing happened on the way to Jungle Duty today. Stopped at a purple light at the intersection of Swimming Pool. and Rooftop Terrace., I slowly peered over to my left and who did I see but the one and only Kermit the Frog! Now, I know what you're thinking: That's impossible... Kermit the Frog is dead. But I am telling you, the resemblance was uncanny. In a yellow taxi cab, Kermit waited by my side for an entire 2.5 minutes until the light changed. Two and a half minutes is more than enough time to check out each and every one of his remarkable facial features: Half- circle eyes, check. Small Saturn-shaped pupils, check. Triangular green face, check. Pink tongue with red outline, check. I stared over at him, rolled down my window and listened to his radio... Kermit was jamming to Gorillaz self-titled 2001 debut album: Gorillaz. It must have only been playing for a little while because I could make out the lyrics, "And the verdict doesn't love our soul, The digital won't let me go..." And, in disbelief, I just thought to myself, Kermit is definitely going where I'm going. But following my fleeting thought I blinked and turned the light Kermit Kolored and zoom, off he went, so fast, as if he were never there.

XXIII: let's go get slimed

There must be a discoverable way around law- otherwise The law would never have been created. Of
course, one year later limits under said law
render humans responsible for their own. Oh, how foggy this is! How much louder does one's fingernail need to be painted
bright orange for you to hear the headline:
"The Nickelodeon generation elected the first black president!"
Be careful not to offend anyone in public, but still try your best at invading
their thoughts
and screaming
their secrets - that is your job, damnit, so do it well. Or
KaBlam! not a slimy, single-celled someone will notice.





*Quote: JennaG

XXII: traffic in a can

This weekend I learned that 80 to Wilco gets you home in time for the back porch premiere and some crucial block busting. To what? To laugh tracks! To always knowing when we're supposed to be enjoying ourselves! Until then we can wait in contended silence and there is no Iowa. Egyptian cotton pillowcases are better than the sheets, especially tonight. Don't say you cant wait, because you've been waiting way too long to be considered Classical. More often than not the yellow light means doubt - But do not believe it. If you'd only ignore the hue you would know when you were supposed to know why.

XXI: blank plank

Tip-toe to the edge of the ledge-
A silent letter must be learned before it is recognized,
sometimes.
Crossword puzzles taught her that everything she needed to know could be discovered within a finite set of clues - & nothing more. Black boxes became shadows for her unknown, so Fair & Square. She took advantage of permanence and inked her answers, always!
We worship the Clock
forever, But for this moment she simply stood
at the edge of the ledge
on her tip-toes
laughing.

XX: the caffeination nation

From the bottom up, making rich the flavors of somewhere far, far away... Music carries the people like cream carries the coffee. Coffee carries the people. Music is the cream.
A morning mug! An earplug! A sunday song
in slippers and a bathrobe, while sipping on freshly brewed bean.
Wouldn't dare ask for anything more in this here America. Oh, gimme a
heartbeat and a drumbeat - coffee with a tad of cream - I am living the dream.

XIX: homeward cloud

Could a cloud make a comfortable home?
Cloud kitchens and common rooms, Cloud couches and comforters.
Imagine! If the cloud canopy in our sky became our Always sky... We would never have to leave our comfortable cloud homes because clouds could completely cover our heads at all times - We wouldn't be able to escape the rain... Would you even mind? Clouds could cry on our shoulders, too.

XVIII: mayhaps perbe

Maybe if the Process truly mattered it would condense into a compact, dense inner core - Fe! in composition like a burning Sun. (Careful not to think of ours) A differentiated Sun, with a core Process that makes us all uncomfortable. Why? Why do we shift awkwardly in our seats while the Process erupts so obviously, splashing and spewing molten minerals into the inner cores of our eyes, which connect to our souls - (If we have them). We sit and stare as the massive bodies collide and form planets which align just so, & our lives diligently rotate about an axis which orbits around the Process - yet we ignore it so easily! (But still, uncomfortably).
Perhaps the Process does truly matter. It dark matters; we don't realize. we cannot see. so we ignore. But like most obvious Processes this one creates something more important than itself, hurting some and helping others, Continuously.

XVII: nightan

Took a bath in warm songwater,
Sank neck deep beneath a blanketed wave.
Lyrics lapped- and lips, too. The Night
tinted everyone's cheeks with shadow's inverse. Basking in a soft glow, thinking, The right now is fine... even better than The before. Why is there always a need for that something more?
Soaked in song and sated with sun, we sang
the words, "The right now's night is done."

XVI: seasonal aura-gies

"To follow with the eye- while resting on a summer afternoon- a mountain range on the horizon or a branch that casts its shadow on the beholder is to breathe the aura of those mountains, of that branch... For the aura is bound to his presence in the here and now. There is no facsimile of the aura."

When I breathe the aura of imperfect silence at the peak of a steep pitch, I stare in awe at the painted canvas before me and realize, not quite for the first time, how utterly small I am. I am humbled, I am excused because I am limited by human proportions. I cannot track every peak with the edges of my skis, but I can revel in the aura and respect that which is unconquerable, that which is larger than I.

When I breathe the aura of the hopeful thaw, as winter kneels in kind submission, I feel simple tasks are more easily accomplished when the sun is shining. Metaphorically, yes, but literally: Sun out, Sunshades down, Chin up, Purpose within. I am prepared, I am present because I am human. That summer dilly dallies at the end of the block makes me sprint, slow to a jog, then sprint again. I am free, I am more naked now that the sun clothes me!

When I breathe the aura of heavy leisure, an idle heat hangs from the crowns, I hear high pitched giggles emanating from the park across the street and concentric circles of happiness reach me in my bedroom, slowing my slumber. So, I borrow a few circles! I lace up my sneakers, I run to the park and I don't plan stopping. I run, the soles of my shoes conversing with the asphalt, until the heat halts me. Head home, it whispers through the light breeze on my face. I listen to the ebb and flow of exertion, and lay in the grass where no appointment is necessary.

When I breathe the aura of impending academia, I smell fresh plastic binders, rubber erasers and smooth inky pens, their aromas beckon me to restock, as if owning equipment alone will foster success. Success is elusive, I am told. Yet, it's comforting to know that September always schedules a holiday, right around Labor Day, celebrating the notion of motivation. A fresh start, a new beginning, invisibly marked on each pupil's calendar. Zenith! and the bright stars still hover in the sky, remnants of a summer that soothes us.

XV: planted

I miss the salty smell of play-doh. Sometimes if I focus on it I can bring the aroma so close to my nostrils that my eyes water, and to think! this reaction, only by forceful thinking! I am not wearing socks and I am sitting cross-legged on the floor, rolling red play-doh into a ball between the palms of my hands. I am nineteen, but no one is looking. I rip a tiny piece off, I look left, I look right, I close my eyes and put it in my mouth. I still carry myself as a child in my heart, but until when? I swallow the play-doh, the small seed, and hope.

XIV: picking and chewing

As soon as I bite into this apple I forget it is an apple. When my chops break the skin of this red delicious I am expecting to taste red velvet, with cream cheese frosting. But the sour flesh instead reminds me of the time my mother gave me an apple, with a candle in it, for dessert on my sixteenth birthday. I was sick, so I made sure it was the most delicious apple I ever enjoyed... until this red delicious. I picked this apple on Sunday, (was Sunday yesterday? Yes...) and it was the only apple I wanted, the hardest one to reach. I trusted that my sister and cousins would pick enough Granny Smiths, Fijis and Golden Delicious' for a small army so I wasn't worried that it would be my only. But this one would be only mine.

XIII: the cove

I suppose right now is what it feels like to walk barefoot on soft sand, hand in hand with someone in the summer. I spent four years wandering under the same stars as you, would you believe it! That same sunset swept across our canvas ceiling and vibrant figs freshly torn open would blot together a luscious sky. It's as if nature was spreading a colored quilt over us before bed, before the nightlight faded out as we did. Even now as I spread my toes my polished nails fan out like a peacock and I clench those soft purple sheets with my small feet. My head heavies into a cool pillowcase, a summer breeze whispers to my cheek. Soon, I close my eyes. All I see is soft sand, all I feel is your hand.

XII

At the end of yoga class, during the relaxation pose Savasana, I felt my entire existence shrink to the size of a camera memory chip and slide neatly underneath my left eye socket (behind the bone where my eyebrow begins) and I just hovered there as I inhaled and exhaled. I am telling you this was the most intense mind fuck since we back porched 3 blunts on empty stomachs before Yom Kippur. I wouldn't call this a hallucinogenic experience... It was more of a meditative state where I completely escaped anything resembling "real" thought and entered my breath through a narrow doorway leading into an empty room with windows for walls. I was only breath; nothing more and nothing less. It wasn't until after I came to that I realized that the localized spot I was concentrating on was the exact same place where my head often throbs incessantly after a bad nights sleep or a long while reading myself out of the present. That emotions can cause physical pains without legitimate medical explanations is why doctors don't diagnose diseases like obsession or heartache. There is no syrup that will assuage a broken heart nor syringe to alleviate a relentless dream, just a silent scream, Savasana.

XI

The ladder is an illusion, but the rungs are a reality. Even from the nosebleeds I could see your toothy smile; Do you believe me? No, I don't have super vision, not even 20/20, (in fact, lately I've experienced the sensation of what I am self-diagnosing as 'astigmatism,' and I slip into and out of living a blurred existence.) Wow, 11:11 lasted longer than one minute tonight. I do not love when that happens because I feel as though I have to prolong my wish for the whole longer-than-usual minute and I end up adding unnecessary clauses to my trusty, constant hopes. I am in a perpetual state of hope. I hope you believe what I am telling you about the ladder... it just doesn't exist. But the rungs! The rungs, Oh, they intentionally separate the steps we take to get to the top- But I am on stage and you are in the nosebleeds, every single damn day, until one.

X

Sometimes when I stare into the tummy of your guitar I envision myself diving straight down the rabbit hole into another dimension where I could find you, really. Really if I could crawl around in there I bet I could find your friends, too, guitar picks wanting what I want and slipping into your abyss, changing your sound. 'Sounds like quite the adventure, Alice,' you'd say to me, unaware that I was already so far gone. Gone are pieces of plastic you used to play for/to people... no, into. Into the circle that's partially responsible for the seductive sound you create to control the crowd, we go willingly - what is wrong with this picture? Picture the capacity for change, a single sliver of six-string silence. Silence you know not of, out of choice.

IX: semi-found

Blank stares bring me beyond where I should have gone.
When I explore hidden coasts from my living room chair I can still hear your voice. I don't just tolerate your diction, I revel in it.
In our advanced theories we were forward looking.
We said we'd work more, earn more, live more, have more fun. But we didn't - We did some of those things but not all because everyone always has to make sacrifices.
I chose to stare directly at space.
You went to work while I went to the moon. I curled up in a crater and power napped. When I woke up I no longer tolerated anyone's words but my own. Instead I listened intently to my professor, the newscaster, my friendly waitress, my flight attendant (who also happens to be my yoga instructor). I am patient in my attempts to translate the words of experience and knowledge of Other into
my own loose language, all the while making sure it makes perfect nonsense.

VIII

Someone should write a play about this because it actually happens in real life.

VII

Sometimes when I look at old writings of mine I re-write them or tinker out some images if I feel like it. When I re-read the poem that was here I did not feel. So now it's gone.

VI

She is just impatient because she wants the final product without the difficult means, but that is so often the issue. Can't we make her a little more complex? Okay, so the woman is completely infatuated, blinded by her devotion, but she is so young! At 18 or 19 she should be able to move on. Bold statement. "Well what do you mean by love? How do you define love?" ... "I don't think I am ready to answer that question yet." Solid response.

V

I know you don't believe me but I saw Sky blush.
I get the feeling he didn't mean for it to happen that way - for me to see him in that state, a flush spreading across his cheeks and settling into the horizon. I couldn't help but stare! My eyes wouldn't wander and the moving bus window tinted Sky from noticing my impolite fascination with his embarrassment. I saw it all from the beginning: Sun was tiring of the constant demand for her warmth, light, happiness and beauty - the Ultimate provider! And Sky? What does Sky do but hover endlessly and bear all emotions, showering the public with their intimate details. Sun was done. Sun up and left. Sun stained sky a gauzy red
and I watched.

IV

At times I can finesse a situation just so,
just so that a pristine puzzle is perfectly completed at its outcome.
For example, an accurate allocation of time for both book buying and coffee consumption prior to class, which requires guidance counselor-esque scheduling skills and Sherlock Holmes-like accountability for long lines due to week 1 semester demands, Oh I did not account for either if any of the aforementioned whatevers. Sometimes time times itself accordingly, perfectly. A dance of sorts, (a picture of sorts!) timely art.

III

Let's unknowingly try not to run into each other. That way neither of us has to cope with confrontation. How ideal! As 1:25 lets out a student packed sigh I see you see me seeing you see me. We make this one a quickie and hold [our] breath until the next.

The next listens and never comes.

II

I am expecting the fullest fulfillment of fulfilling fullness.
Satisfaction in satiation, but not excessive - basta ya.
To acquire each necessary book and taint the pages upon consumption is the solution to the grumble. Thumbing through you I fatten with genius.. And you were free! Oh, library.

I

We are backer than before and it's as if we never left.
A great(est) city for four years, we will live in -
We are living up someones dream, as if there were
no tomorrow in Montreal. The billboard tells us the future is simple. I stare at it blankly, at the advertising beady eyed monkey, and enjoy that idea for an evanescent moment. Cars already honking, anticipating the second when the light turns green, hinder my trance. I push the pedal all the way down to the floor just to make my heart beat fast as I crash into that simple future.