Perfect love story

It's time to find solace after all this pain, as the lights go out
and butterflies begin to wilt in the evening cold, as the cold seeps in
we start our drifting, to this lullaby

Life is chaos, embrace it. These things will haunt you forever
and when winter lights your house with numb calm
as you fall away to the grip of cold dawn
I start my thinking, all day and all night

Absorbed the inventions, the toxins, the informations
just when I thought my heart was free at last
you pin it down like a broken wing, and as we tumble
further and closer to the ground
My heart starts beating louder

I have never felt so cold and alive, so loud and so clear
secrets, promises, and left out addictions
I never knew how to feel like this
silence and solace in the smoke of the night
I've been on the brink, so
just come and save me now

Haunted

I watch in horror, as I anticipate; the falling, the fleeting
the breaking of hearts as they slip and fall to the floor
crashing in a circular motion, casting shards everywhere
Nothing feels quite as bad, as good as this
Lean closer, breathe in this cold air
paralyse me, and I'll take it all in

Now I'm crumbling, cascading into a fog
can you hear me screaming? crying for attention
because it's all I have, to identify with life
Nothing feels quite as good as you

Speak the truth or lie and cheat

My eyes follow you, and yours mine. I race them across the room, to the exact spot where we meet. I hastily look away, and you do the same to me. Is it because I feel you, feeling me, through those eyes?

It is because we both know exactly what's going on here, is it? It's nothing to be upset about, the only thing that we should be upset about is that our beds share a wall and someone we're pretending to act like brother and sister. We're not. We're two adults, and I know deep inside of you there's an understanding. An understanding of what we both want, and we both want it more than anything.

I'm such a very 'complex' person in that I'm not complex at all. I'm predictable. I have my issues, and I don't pretend to hide them. I'm up front about this. I think about you all the time.

It's kinda awful when I think about it. What if this is all a figment of my imagination, that you just have some issues with respecting women so you can't look me in the eyes. I just know some moment we'll linger and things will just happen. But if it's not how you feel, then I'm caught up in a blissful state of contentment, so don't ruin it. Just don't let it get harboured into an evil craze that eventually results in attempted suicide or unipolar depression.

Not that I'd ever do that.

I time my nights around you now, from eating dinner to having unlimited free time from 8:30pm-1am. I would never normally do something like that, but I guess your novelty hasn't worn off. But it's hard to, because you're too much like my father. Someone, who I haven't seen in 2 years and was always the apple of my eye. But not in a sick way, oh no. I'm not Electra. I'm just a kid who idealized her dad, to the point where his alcoholism and commitment issues just faded away. Which is great, as a coping mechanism, but now I'm getting off track. You're like my Dad, and not only that, but a guy my dad would approve of. You have similar ideals and intelligence to him, and you're sure as hell not bad looking. It's haunting me even now.

So as I type away on this sort-of loud keyboard, blasting Space Dementia and pulling tight poppers, I'll think of what I might never have. What I should never have, but somehow in all the chaos, got.

Save me.

Distinctions

It's a hard distinction to make between what you want and what you have. It's a harder distinction to make when your heart yearns for one and not the other. Your heart is the most fickle thing in your life, that's the unfortunate truth. It's hard to believe that you can love someone one day and ten years hate them, but we're never the same people. Like heraclitus' river, we're all a little different every time.

So are you, and so am I, and that's why this concerns me. That's why I'm working on distinctions, pro/con charts and chats with semi-close friends who don't know me well enough to know better and don't know you well enough to say something. These are the friends whom I rely on for my emotional granite. I'm otherwise a weak, pathetic being that needs constant reassurance.

I hope for your sake you may never have to find that out. But then again, I'm staying up late, thinking and worrying about that last interview I need to get done tomorrow. Worried about how I'm going to afford my hot yoga pass this fall. First world bullshit. Stupid forehead acne caused by excessive drinking. Lack of sleep caused by increased caffeine intake. Increased caffeine intake caused by lack of appetite.. and vice versa.

So once you pull the thorns out it's not so bad, and it's always worth it to not let that fucker fester. So pull the thorn out, and tell them how you feel. Because you're always a ctrl-alt-del away.

Have you ever been afraid?

It's natural to be afraid. It's a human instinct to fear things that might hurt us. Things like falling from great heights, or falling in general.

I'm one of those latter kind of people.

Fear has a grip that won't let go, it's pulling and pushing and searing through your skin all at the same time. It's that rock in the back of your throat that won't go away. Fear takes hold of you and begins to consume the very life of you, if you're not careful, it will take everything you could ever hold dear.

To despair is to lose all hope, and be unable to even take your own life. Despair occurs after all has faded and fear has completely paralyzed you.

I'm also unfortunately a victim of despair.

I know, it seems a little bit ridiculous. I have spent 17 years of my life in a full-day education setting, and I will spend at least two more. I will have probably spent close to 60,000 of debt by the end of my entire education. I may never repay this in my lifetime. I may never be able to even graduate because I'm already that far in debt, and I am struggling to pay my bills. I'm afraid I may someday not have any money at all, and that fear makes me feel as though a day of financial security will never come.

I'm a rational person, and I keep thinking to myself that debt is a natural part of a middle-class life. I just never wanted to be so in debt that I live paycheque to paycheque. Like right now.

When you have this much debt assigned to your name, it's something that gets 'passed down' should something 'happen' to you. Such a horrible tragedy, after losing a family member... to get a bill of such a substantial nature. Who has that kind of money laying around?

I could whine about how it's the people making the decisions who have the money to lose.
I could totally do that.

But right now, I'm so afraid. Consumed by fear of so many things, and above all,
myself.

I cried like a child when Jack Layton died.

And we all should have. Jack is the metaphor Canada needed, and still needs. His words, more than sixty years of them to be sure, will live on in us and in his work: to this day I am amazed at how far Toronto and Canada have moved forward in a pursuit towards gay rights, women's rights, and rights to healthcare, fair trial and other now-conventional luxuries enjoyed by many who now mourn Jack and his legacy.

But is his legacy really over? Many, including the general youth population, seem to disagree- in fact the aim is to challenge everything that is, in order to improve to what will be. The future seems our gaze fixed; his legacy is our motivation towards a better and more generous tomorrow.

Stephen Lewis' eulogy moved me, deeply and emotionally. After I stopped crying, I realized that the reason why we mourn Jack is because he was the person we wanted to be, but never had the 'gusto' to become. Jack was the 'us' we should have been, and now should become. The generous, kind, honest man who everyone had dreamed to be our next PM.

We mourn not just Jack, a life well lived, but the entire idea of democracy and the ability to change Canada in favour of its people. We mourn the loss of a brother, a friend, an MP, a leader. He wore many hats, but his mustache and rise to fame were all because of his drive and his ability to be generous with his heart. Jack put his heart into everything he did, and not simply inspired by Lewis' eulogy, but moved--I too wish I could be 'a little more like Jack'.

Jack's passing should awake the slow rumbles of revolution in those who truly believe-- in the generosity of Canadians to help eachother and to care for our fellow human beings, not simply for corporations or for the money.

There's nothing like a postmortem letter and a well written eulogy to change the world.

And we will

How

How did I know I had to let go of you?

It was the same exact moment you cried to me, on the telephone, about how much you hated your life and wanted to end it.

It was that night I never picked up my phone

and you turned out alright. She's still with you.

And I look back, through all our photographs, and you were never, ever sober.

Places and faces changed, but you were always drunk. The pictures are probably the only memories you have now, and they best be something.

I wonder what kind of memory I left for you, the same kind of thing that you keep asking me over and over again. You keep trying, and it's so beautiful and so painful.

I let go of you, but you keep coming back. And back, and back.

Quit hurting her, and quit hurting me. Quit hurting yourself. How?

Just love.