Madness and the modern self, linked together infinitly. but what is finite and infinte? infinite thoughts for certain because everything provokes some sort of reaction, some kind of thought process that leads you to discovery.. perhaps soemtimes of a new philosophy?
“Never answer the question, answer the thought the question provokes”
what have i become? sometimes i enjoy the philosophy. i enjoy when i pay attention and mostly when it does provoke something from me, though its usually disaproval and hatred. when i can explain it its lovely and good and cheer and...
what if i miss this in art school? what will i get mad at then? then it will be all my own fault, that i cant make the paintbrush move the way i want it to.. then it will be all of my own doing and i wont be able to place the blame upon anyone else. i hope i am always provoked in thought though. i think i'll need some english courses to go along with those fine arts one. im such a mix of the two that its impossibly to rip one or the other out. now im writting and all i want to do is paint and create art. ill be doing that full time and all i will be doing is writting and reading and composing. poetry is eternal, that never needs anything else. that doesnt need a balance, or composure, that just is itself.

my poor bones are shaking so much, my teeth have been grinded down by my nerves. gold teeth to ensue because i just grind my jaw, clenched, when i walk, when i sleep, when i think, i always think. subconciously of course, i dont realize i do it till the pain gives me awful headaches. a golden smile flashes from those fake teeth, fake bones, because they grind together too. my poor knees my poor hips, they grind and gristle whenever i walk too much and my poor teeth are subject to such torture which cause my brain to clench and despise. my body has so many issues with my brain, i guess it would do it for punishment. i wish they would just start working together instead of so far apart because my mind is always travelling and my body is tired of keeping up with these desperate travels..montreal toronto paris and new york, the places i want to visit this year, the places i want to expirience and drink up so densly that i dont forget them and so that they leave a tattoo behind. maybe they will loosen my teeth and stuff some more marrow into my bones.
i need good health, lots of smoothies and tea. and nothing else. a fast is on the way, a liquid fast for a little while to clear everything out. maybe then they can start to get along, to sleep better.

subways /nutella /clothing book /stores /red websites /cheesecake blizzards /housepainting /fashion television /gang gang dance /huge bathrooms /rosemary mint body lotion /ariel pinks haunted graffiti /psychic ills / NO LOCAL JOKES /THATS IMPOSSIBLE I DONT HAVE ALL THE TAPES /NO REQUESTS /Spedina/ Dupont/ Osgoode/ Green st.patricks station/ OCAD/

TORONTO 2006.

nope, wrong one, again
it sucks how everything seems ok but theres always that one problem that manages to irk you and quells everything in your stomach because with the way you are and well, the way i am it cant be done.

blood stripes down
wraps around
tiniest wrist bones
inside she groans
no idea whats shes done
no idea
no thoughts just pure satisfaction
gun held to her lips
blood races
down puddling in her messy clothes
she waits for someone
to hear all of her woes
lifted up beyond the cloud
or thats how the story in her mind goes

im nervous. nerotic.

i think i fell in love in the bus shelter
i think i fall in love with any boy who puts his arms around me, touches my nose, pulls at my hair and kisses my cheek