Whale Crashing

And in each wave I can see the great black; the toil of the mammoth whale crashing into sea and sending it hurtling out into the unknown.

Middle-Aged Slobs

And as I walk to the bus I see all the houses
I see all the men and I see all their spouses
And I see all the boys and I see all the girls
And I see everything in the whole wide world

And as I get on the bus to get to my job
I see the middle-aged men and the middle-aged slobs

[Unfinished, obviously. Again, no date.]

Like Thoreau: Forever.

When I’m feeling gray
and I’m feeling down
I know that when I turn around
I’ll see your face beside me
You always know to find me

And when I open my eyes
and look out our front door
I see the places that we’ve been before
and know that you’re beside me
You always know to find me

‘Cause there’s more to the world
than you can see;
There’s more to you and more to me
There’s so much to learn out there
So much to see and do out there

You gotta make the most of what you’ve got
Gotta seize the day and live your lot
As long as you come find me
I need you here behind me

So take my hand and we’ll go for a ride
Enter the woods to see what’s inside
We’ll live like this together
Like Thoreau we’ll live forever

[No date.]

Whine-Rant

Trying so hard to get out and live to seize the day to go out and do; the obstacles presented problems discovered nothing can just go right.

Alone accompanied what to do? Where to go? To a club a bar a party not my “scene” – to wander the streets alone just as pitiful as sitting at home uptown alone. What is desired? What is sought? A companion, someone with whom to share the life the laugh the night, with hwom one can truly be free be aware be true?

Or is just sought a change a break from the monotony something new to seek to learn to do? Vindication, maybe; verification that the life-choices made were in fact the right ones, that things really will work out okay in the end?

Left right everywhere praise acclaim astonishment at all that has been as of yet “accomplished” — and for what? What extraordinary has been done, really? Leaving school twice working contractual freelance jobs providing zero work stability, no guarantee that there will be a “next time” – being the absolute bitch of several producers and having no choice but to put up with it, even if it means working wasting my time for naught? To be used so and tossed aside, to have nigh all calls and messages from seemingly interested companions completely ignored and unanswered — to be forced to live in a tyrannous household far, far from the city desired the city loud the city yearned for so. What praise, really?

There is no stability. There is no structure of school or schedule to keep time by. There is no promise of having a job of being paid of having somewhere to crash at the end of a day.

Accomplishments, hah. I have done nothing but ride the waves of my own creation — and look, look indeed and in truth where they have taken me.

I’d rather be fishing.

Ad Mesh

Smoking prohibited;
Do not block doorway -
Be safe and considerate!
Come, travel Norway.

Emergency alarm -
press for assistance.
Penalty for misuse:
Fine or imprisonment.

Ride the rocket,
Recycle more;
the signs says DANGER:
DO NOT LEAN AGAINST DOOR

Feed your need,
train or be trained.
It’s a money world
with these ads in my brain

Drink brand X:
Obey your thirst!
Mind the gap and
let patrons exit first

In the bar there’s no smokin
In emergency push to open
In society we’re all hopin
That these signs they are all jokin’

Go for it/Just do it
Turn cheese into bread
Come and ride the rocket
Let us into your head

The strong blonde and products you love.
Is the future in your hands?
Think of this as your wake-up call.

[Silliness while riding public transit.]

A Letter Unsent

L—,
Thought some on what we spoke of the other night; it’s inconsequential whether or not your friends, your family – hell, even your boyfriend, adore you as he does – understand what you choose. It’s your life, it is, and you’re not living it for any of them (as life is, always, the most selfish of human interests); if you are discontent with your lot you ought to step up and do something rash – you’re still young, very young, and there’s no sense being unhappy during these few years that have such potential to truly live. You CAN screw up, make bad choices, live any way you want to. It matters not whether they get it, really – life is too short to be unhappy, and one thing I can tell you is you got to be free.

Live.

Z

Relativity, Relatively Speaking

If you can’t be sure of something so simple as reality, relatively speaking, how can you be so sure of what is truly right?

A Life

A staple, chair and two bars of soap,
Some windows, a door – just too much to hope?

A wife and kids and a family,
A little place for you and me.

A Day In The Life

It started with a newspaper. A Metro, specifically, sitting open on a subway seat as we all know Metros are wont to do.

At first glance it was just like any other; a bold headline reporting some silly urban occurance supposedly relevant to the lives of the readers; schlock news and celebrity slag abounding coupled with a far-too easy crossword easily crossed (four minutes fifty-three seconds easy, to be exact).  See, that’s why I paid it no special attention – it was no special collection of recycled newsprint, let me tell you that.

Of course, me being the unathletic bastard I yet prove to be, I skipped right over the SPORTS section (ever squeezed between the seemingly ever-imperative FASHION and ENVIRONMENT sections).  Now, if I hadn’t been so averse to these pages of pure penis, I would have noticed that little manila envelope tucked between the results of Small People Racing Abused Horses and Angry Men Crushing Eachother that would prove so very troublesome in the days to follow.

Anyway, back to work. As I arrived at my station, I stashed the paper in my bag lest I draw the angry stares of commuters fellow.  I disembarked, dove into the typing Bloor Station chaos and swam through the suit-donned sea and went to work.

[Maybe TBC. We'll see. I didn't mark the date in my notebook. xx0608, is all I know.]

What Must Be Done

Well, that’s just it.  I had no real reason to be in class – most of it I knew, and I was dropping out anyway – but I made myself go. I had a responsibility to be there and so I was.  I owed it to myself, my family and the few peers humble enough to swallow their pride and ask for aid when it was required.  And so I went.

The thing is, I never really had to think about this; it is What Must Be Done and that is the only option, no matter the personal burden it would festoon.  You should see now why it bothers me so when people – any people. Most people – refuse to step up and do What Must Be Done in their own lives own worlds.

[No idea when this was written. Was in my notebook. Might be on here already, not sure.]