That's not 'gay'.

Some people lately have asked me how it was that I became so liberal. I grew up in an extremely conservative community, but have ended up so far left socially I wind up off the chart.

I know what it's like to have a gay best friend. To watch him get called 'faggot' day after day, and to feel how capable he is of love. I've seen how capable Ryan is of having a good relationship, of giving back to the community and his zest for life. To think that Ryan would ever want to take his own life because of the threats and misgivings of others, is the most horrendous and terrifying feeling. This is in light of the tragedies as of late within the  LGBTQ community.

I don't know what it's like to be teased because of my sexual orientation. I'm open enough with what I like and who I like and I have never had to defend myself against some of the things Ryan has had to. I cannot imagine losing him.

Ryan isn't just my gay friend. He's my best friend. I'd die for him.

Don't walk away with her

Oh, if I never had to fight for what I wanted; what if I never had to work to get to where I want to be;
I am sick of defending myself; sick of defining what it's like to be like this
love's such a personal, private emotion; sick of bearing it all in hopes to make it alright
but here I am again somehow, avoiding laughter, hiding from smiles
Why don't they just get someone else to pick on, and avoid the irony
of you, and me.
What if we never got along like this, or what if we weren't alike in every way.
What if I never thought about it at night
realizing you're never far away
Oh, if I never had to run away from what I loved; what if I never had to be ashamed of myself
What if you all just left us alone
standing forever, wondering if you could pick up on my clues
those lingering questions keep me up, 2am who do you love?
I wonder, until I float away; I just wanted to see you behind that door
asking what if our love is worth fighting for
This silence, just wanting to let it go; let go of everything that made me feel insignificant, inadequate.
I'm better than fucking adequate.
All we ever wanted was a place to live, a warm bed to lie in, and a roof over our heads.
No one ever thought it would be like this; God knows it can't end like this.

Let’s not become Last Chance U.

Wilfrid Laurier University’s reputation has been debatable for some time now. Last Friday at the Faculty of Arts Council meeting, the thunder was brought down upon this entire debate. The proposition? Raise the admissions average for incoming arts majors. The reputation of the school was undoubtedly on the brink of becoming “Last Chance U” or worse than “If you can walk and talk you can go to Brock”. While my friends at Brock could immediately disagree with their reputation, there’s little to argue against what the harm a bad rep can make on a school and its admissions.

As a university, Laurier wants to attract top students; the brains and innovators, the leaders and creators; but without a great reputation for Canadian ‘excellence’ Laurier simply would become as a school a `B-‘. This is due to the admissions average of 2011 hanging out at a meagre 73 per cent. While high school grades are arguably already well-inflated, a 73 per cent in high school is considered well below what other schools demand. McGill University requires an 86.8 per cent for admission to Arts programs, which while Western, considered a good comparison to Laurier, requires low 80s.

All of these figures inherently say something about a school’s reputation. While the best and brightest among us may not have received these outstanding 90+ per cent grades in high school, and extra-curriculars in high school should be considered, these standards are primarily indicative of a school’s prestige. Schools in the United States rely on the Standardized Admissions Test (SAT) to determine a student’s capabilities and is weighted heavily in admissions considerations.

The obvious problem with talking about admissions averages restoring the reputation of Laurier is that faculty budgets and funding are based largely in part upon the number of students we admit. While a couple of weeks ago it was reported in The Cord, and confirmed at the council meeting that Arts admissions have gone down about 10 per cent, leaving already starving departments meagre amounts of funding. We need to admit more students, but we need to do it without lowering our admissions average to the point where Laurier is considered the last choice. We also can’t lose any more funding.

So then, my proposition, although laughed at by many a faculty member and worried staff, is to raise the admissions average to 78 per cent. Because the amount of students with an 80 dramatically increases before tailing off at 90, according to a report by Alan Slavin, and the amount of Ontario Scholars (students with an 80 per cent or higher upon graduation) increases every year, Laurier could benefit from ‘jacking’ the average up. By raising the admissions average we would be picking from an entirely different pool of students, snatching up those who would otherwise have chosen Western or Queens.

It would lower the stress on administrators and advisors who are responsible for assisting the students, who once admitted, fail out or scrape by in first year. Drop-outs would likely tailor off, creating stable funding and budgeting, and ideally a school more students would transfer to instead of from.

While funding is always a concern, the amount of students declining offers from Laurier would likely decrease as our reputation albeit slowly returns to being a quality school. More students would want to come here because as a school we no longer ‘fill space’. Professors would have fewer masses of students who require extra help on the material; TAs would enjoy marking papers that aren’t flooded with spelling and grammar errors. 

There are really many pros to raising the minimum entrance admission average. It would even help current students out, by providing some kick to the devalued arts degree, or giving that extra underline on a grad school application. We can promote Laurier all we want, and provide some of the best programs and professors in the country, but with a crap reputation we might as well be handing out degrees and become a revolving door of half-wits. But whatever students come in with, that doesn’t mean they’ll fail or that they’re incapable; I was one such student who didn’t get 90s in high school. The day I got into Laurier I thought it was a joke, because I didn’t think my grades were good enough. Point being: we need to be back at that point again. This was almost four years ago, and although there are always great bright students who turn on all the engines and graduate successfully, there are too many who are not on track to do so. 

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.

3am

I just wanted to write you a letter. I know it's too late to call.

I was going to sit outside your house, and sing, just like you did to me. I wanted you to hear the pain in my voice, and to know how my life has changed completely since we met. I'm no longer complete; you got away with a piece of me that I doubt I'll ever get back. But enough of what's now and what's lost.

I want to tell you something.

You're a beautiful person with a beautiful soul. You have so much to look forward to, and so much to give. You never should ever feel as though you are worthless, or that the things you have done make you a bad person. I will never ever let someone bring you down. Your love can change the world, and it will someday. You love with all your heart, and you will someday. Just not now, and that's okay. We don't get to where we are going by sitting around working a mind-numbing entry-level position. We get educated, and follow our passions. We stumble along the way, with issues that we all resolve with the strength we find in ourselves. Someday you'll find that strength to let go just enough to realize how much damage you did.

I loved you with everything I had, and I know you were scared. I know you wanted to run away, and you did. I'm only sorry I never followed you. Together we could have built something beautiful. But, as we all do, I was caught up in the pain of being imperfect, of being human. I still am. I'm caught up in the incompleteness of my daily life, the dissatisfaction of having no money and almost a university degree. Nobody knows what's next. That's supposed to be one of the fun parts of life.

Now, I need to let go. I want to let you go. You need to move on, just like I am trying to. Realize that completeness. Feel the rain after a long humid day. Let it sear your skin, and breathe it in. Know that what's good in life is not what's good in death. Love doesn't heal everything, you need to solve your own problems. It's about time you started solving them. Take this as a push in the right direction, take this as the confidence to realize we all deserve more than we give ourselves. Take this, and remember our moment.

With love, always.

Searching for Life

We've come full circle now, as I finish the end of the movie that started it all

my obsession with life, my lucid affair with love

caught between dreams and reality

As the harshness of a lonely life set in, the smell of lilac and fresh cut grass, Home

Wading through puddles of mud and motor oil

the sound of my own childish voice,

Please, please don't cry

It's all alright.

We're standing here, and I can't be a part of this anymore.

I want out.

I want to feel whole again, and it's not worth it

Life is so beautiful and so tragic

how even the strongest fall.

That which we are, we are

How hard it was to believe, how far gone you were

how I can't stand seeing that in my mirror

a drunken loneliness that won't subside

No more, no more.

I won't be a part of you anymore, and I won't let you

be a part of me; my heart is nothing left for taking

and my soul has nothing left

I never had to ask anyone. I just knew

and that decision is as easy as this one

Parc and contemplation

here i am, again i stay

on my hospital bed

of grass, and sunlight

all i can say, is how nice it

used to be, to see you smile,

to see you alive.

nothing is like the night, sparkling, don't ever let this go

all those walks home, all those painful cries out into the dark-- 2am who do you love?

she sings it all so right, it was a life that i could not have imagined better than it is, not have a care in the world, except for everything to do with you.

spinning forever, just wondering when you'll know. lying ere, waiting for the pain to subside, waiting

to feel alive.

This is how it ends

There's a reason

for what we do, what we say and how we feel

I don't know why I used to long for you

maybe, somehow it had something to do with saving you

because you are one jump from falling off a cliff

There's a reason we don't love each other.

It's because she loves you, and you don't love anyone.

There's a reason today happened

You're destructive, and I'm strong enough to not let you in

not let you break me down, and bring me down with you

with all the pain and addiction you have caught up in you

there's a reason you are the way you are, and a reason

why you don't get help.

There's a reason I wanted nothing to do with you

it's because you have nothing to do with me. Or yourself.

You're selfish, and you don't deserve what's happening to you

but it's happening to you, and we're trying to help.

I stopped trying

and look at what happened.

You called me

I never answered. My phone was dead, I wasn't in a good place.

I won't let you go

Awake my soul, and let those raindrops fall

like the tears that stream down my face, I won't let you show

I won't let you know, anything

build up those walls again, only to drop them like a curtain

but what no longer feels real to me, might seem real to you

so quit persisting, quite insistent on how things should be, or faltering

on those things that never seemed real to me

I'll awake, and now I'll fall all over again

this time, not for you, not for you

it'll be for me

You never should have sung to me

Caught up in you, all caught up in me

I'm tired of pretending, that these fantasies were real;

coming close, and even closer

Separate what happened, and what was just a dream

later on, it'll turn to chaos;

and pain and pain, come away from the window

Stay here, my hands will comfort you

Caught up in all of this, all caught up in pretending to be okay

caught trying to fake it

Leave behind what never happened, and this was just a bad reality

Lost and broken, coming to I'll slowly wake

We still haven't spoken

Say When.

Now I'm here, and it's a blindside, a windstorm and it's all around me

it all began with those eyes, that just cut right through me,

maybe it'll all come true after all

Give in, give in;

Tears, and more tears, more pain, and more longing. It's just repetitive

Feels like falling

Looks like love.

Breakable

It's not like I can't get over you.

I just miss your voice.

and the ache of your absence

it lingers here still

I just miss your eyes

and the way they looked upon me

they lingered just a little too long

I don't have a regret

just regrets themselves

and the way they seem to haunt me

every minute, of every day

I will leave this mess, and hide away

just to pass on, and get over this silence

just to stay

a part of you,

because you are still

a part of me

(untitled)

Lately I've been wondering if when you're moping around the house due to over-thought about a certain someone, if they're doing the same about you. Spelling errors lurk and stare with ashy and irritating eyes: I hate retyping things. Backspace, backspace, backspace.

The rhythm on the keys reminds me of transcribing. Why can't I leave work at work?

Probably because you're the reason I still show up.

Look after you

Wow, it's been a really long work week. In fact, shhhh I'm still at work. We're just testing a new project and I've had very little luck--if you can call it that.

It's been a long week for three reasons:

1. I drink too much which makes work the time in between drunk

2. You're on my mind 9/10ths of the time which makes work hard

3. I don't get paid nearly enough for the hell I endure.

The thought of you wanting to quit makes me hurt. I don't know, I've never felt this kind of pain in a long time, not since I was around 16 and I didn't want someone else to leave. It's hard to believe I'm this attached, it's even harder to believe there's any chance between us.

You may have alluded to it before once or twice, and definitely when you literally told me when we were all drunk/high but does it even mean the same thing? Does it even mean what I want it to mean?

Your anger scares some of the other girls at work. It only makes me worry and fear what I wouldn't know how to deal with. You remind me so much of someone in a lot of ways, and it's so problematic, it was so hard to deal with them and it's not going to be any easier now.

I'd like to think I'd be the one to save you, but in the end, it's always you to be saving me.

Morenighttimepoetry.

Lost in the light of the night, I'm brought back to life

Bring it back to me, this beautiful sight

of spinning and reeling, and crying and sleeping

I'm lost in the curve of your arms, the curve of your body

like hills and mountains, I climb and I fall

just to let you catch me

over and over again

You bring out the light in me, this beautiful lie

of tracing lines across the curve of your bed,

the lines of your face, they linger in my mind still

These are the moments that are keeping me alive