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oh crying girl, you’re so emotional and i love it so much. expressivityness is nice to see in someone. this message made me smile a huge smile and laugh outloud in joy. seriously. fuck, you rock. i really am happy to be cutting these stencils. just for today, i am happy about it. tomorrow’s another day.

“i can feel like i have nothing to say onthe phone, and then start typing 2seconds later and just go off…weird

i’m the exact same way about it. some people have a way with words spoken that i just don’t have. it’s like my mind is a little slower and more methodical than is fit for spoken conversation someteimes. haha, i was jsut thinking abou us having like “conversation stations”. two computers in my place so that whenever we need to really discuss something important we assume our stations and talk to each other through typing. haha. nerd. i think ‘nerd’ is so outdated. seems like everyone is techno-savy these days and if they’re not then they are the ones who are missing out. our generation is so radically different than even from ten years ago. it’s great to be a part of. i know my smoking bugs you though, it would bug me as well if i was not smoking and you started. so, your concerns are very warranted. as for right now in this moment, it is making me happy – smoking that is. partially cause you’re not here so i know it is not possible for it to physically bother you – the smell, the taste in my mouth etc. but you’re worth it to me to be courteous and likeable, so that is definitely one of the key reasons i don’t want to smoke when you’re here or present. i just get so fucking rotten when i don’t smoke and am withdrawing off nicotine. i get really irritable and anxious and am not fun to be around and generally hate existing. it’s a rough time but it’s something i will need to go through to, as i said, be courteous and likeable for you. so… bear with me.

i just got back from a day outside. such a fucking gorgeous day out. cherry blossoms, sunny, warm and breezy. i woke up at noon and had coffee at JJ with an old friend – Anna Silverman. you know her. it was nice to see old friends. she is doing well, dating this guy that i know from AA, interestingly enough. She’s totally in love with him and I am totally in love with you, and it was nice having that pressure off so we could just talk about our spouses and being in committed relationships. then i walked up main street. then back down main street. ran into a bunch of my friends who had taken up residence on a patch of grass with guitars. breanna was there, JR came up there too and we had a really fun time there. felt like wreck beach, ya know that vibe? talked with breanna about you and it was really nice cause she is happy for me that you and i are together. she likes you a lot. i told her about you and i and how it’s been really nice the past coupel days to just have some space and be able to do whatever i want with my time, and to have the freedom to hang out with my group of friends and make art and write – things that i have neglected over the past while. she gave me some good advice about dealing with it all. spoke some sense in to me about what is not my responsibility – your emotions and what is my responsibility – my actions and boundaries. it was nice. i just walked home. the cherry blossom trees reminded mye of you cause they are so fucking beautiful – cheese but true cheese.

Tonight – going to have dinner at Briony’s new place downtown.

TOnight i am going to a drag-king show with Rob and Breanna. Never been to a drag-king show. rob is basically twisting my arm to go with him, i think cause he wants the male support. there’s just gonna be a shitload of man-hating dykes there… i don’t know why he wants to go. Breanna’s worried about running in to her stalker ex-girlfriend. haha. her ex is a drag-king. a girl that wants to be a guy… wears a strapon all the time under her pants and wants to go on testosterone. i’m not even kidding. after that we’re going to a rock show at Pat’s Pub on Hastings. the band is Treacherous Machete. They’re on my myspace friends. Bluesy rock. kinda sound like Queens of the Stoneage and White Stripes. it’s nice going out and doing stuff. I shoudl throw-out the pre-conceived notion of what going out with a girlfriend is like and just have fun with you like this. go out more. live more. be less of a let-down. throw off the imaginary chains that i imagine i am in when i am around you. you’re gonna think about that last sentence now… but maybe you understand what i am saying and i don’t have to explain more.

gonna cut stencils now and listen to rock n roll.

love you baby.

and yes, i find it very attractive that you are working now. that you are building some structure in to your life and amped about stuff.

love
n.

Holy fuck it’s been a while. My counsellor told me she recommends I start blogging again, or if I don’t feel inclined to write in my blog to write somewhere else somewhere I feel free to do so. She noted that it is something she thinks is really missing from my life. My life is so transient. Things come and go quite frequently. But I agree with her. I really do benefit a lot from being able to write and writing is something that has fallen to the wayside lately, in lieu of other matters and activities taking up residence in my cluttered head.

Cluttered.
That is truly something that I have become in the last month that I can say was not there immediately prior to that. At least that is what I recall. And my counsellor backs me on that.

I’m smoking. Yes, I am smoking. It is gross blah blah blah. I know just as you know and I know all the shitty things about it better than you, believe it or not. I was at my mom’s house the other day and i told her about it, that “I have been having a rough go at smoking lately.” I was really happy to be able to tell her that. For most of my life I told her very little about what was really going on with me. My communication with her and the rest of my family was shrouded in avoidance, denial and silence. I was relieved when I told her because when I told her, I told her because it seemed like the ‘right’ thing to do. I know she loves me and cares more about me than any other person in this world. It seemed faithful for me to tell her the truth about how I am, especially considering the amount of anguish and mental strain this particular subject has had me in over the last 3 weeks. Her reply was surprisingly copacetic. She said, “Well, I know this is hard for you. It’s the hardest thing to quit. It’s everywhere. In the past you’ve done very well at quiting and staying off nicotine for long periods of time. You’ve kicked crystal methamphetamines for good, that takes amazing strength and perseverence. I know this is hard for you.” It made me smile what she said. It meant a lot to me. A large factor behind me hiding shit from her for so long was that I was scared of her condemnation and the laying on of guilt and emotional pressure that usually came after me telling her anything that made me vulnerable. It was a trust issue. I felt she was in a place to have power over me. TO make me feel like shit when all i wanted was to be able to tell her the truth and have her show that she loves me unconditionally. My girlfriend has a similar approach to the way my mom used to deal with this subject. She asks, pries as to if I’ve been smoking. I tell her the truth and I do not receive the compassionate response i need to shelter my insecurity and vulnerability in that moment of evident weakness. Lorea acts similarly regarding my smoking as my mom used to about my using. Guilt, shame and retraction are emotions that follow. I can rephrase this without putting the heavy on Lorea. My automatic REACTION to Lorea’s response are feelings that were the same in reaction to the way my mom used to act when she, say, found out I was doing acid every week at UVic. In turn…

I just lit my whole hand on fire trying to light my cigarette with my zippo. apparently lighter fluid had leaked all over my hand before i sturck the flint. that shocked my for a second.

I have a few other “issues” buzzing around in my head that I need to work out this weekend. Sunday I am going to do a little four step action around them.

Planning a vacation to Cuba in May. I’m really excited. Going alone and I’m happy about it. I really put it out of question for a long time because i thought i’d get lonely. Now I am really confident that a week or two alone is just what I need. Just to lie on a white sand beach and read and listen to the ocean. FLoat in the pool. Eat all inclusively. tour around a bit and take some photos. Swim in the ocean. I’m excited.

Hey, I’m cutting some stencils tonight. My iron is heating up and I’ll be on that as soon as I finish writing. 20 minutes to sanity is all it takes.

I leant my copy of Allen Carr’s Easy Way to Stop Smoking to someone. I forget who. I need it back. Whoever has it, please return it to me. Thanks.

it’s 4am at the end of a long night and it is time for pan-fried perogies with ketchup. just cleaned up the bathroom from the rersults of L’s first solid attempt at drinking to the point of oblivion. *applause* good show, good show.

Watching Eddie Izzard’s “Dress To Kill”. It’s some funny shit. When I realize that what I write in here really isn’t very interesting, I confirm to myself that what I write in here is really only for me. That’s what my original concept was when I started writing in here and since then I’ve gone through some phases where I felt I was writing for more than my originally intended audience. Let’s just say I’m still happy when I take the time to write in here.

right now i’m totally distracted watching this movie.

K… what have I been up to… Working, Hanging out with Lorea, Spending too much time on my computer, Reading interesting articles on Wikipedia, Reading the Satanic Bible (still, I’m a slow reader), Running everyday still, Eating out and eating at home, Writing songs on my guitar, Trying hard to write vocal melodies for the songs I am writing, Envisioning the guitar, bass and drum tracks all in my head at the same time while I’m writing the song, Trying to determine what I want to communicate to the world through the music I am working on, Feeling vulnerable about the music I am writing – more so than any other “art project” I’ve done. I feel convered in judgement or potentially so. It’s really just a voice in my head telling me I’m no good, telling me I have no ability to write a good song. The voice sounds like a lot of people I know and the voice is asking me to play the song for them and then me just saying “I have nothing to show you.” then I feel guilty and sad that I am not accomplishing what I have wanted for so long… To just be able to freely write songs wihout the judgement that exists in my head. I just need everyone to back off of my artistic agenda. I’ve only ever created things for me, and when people ask about any artistic vision i have or may have it’s like that vision goes running scared in to the far recesses of my brain like a dog under a hose. I never made any art to be understood and i won’t make any music because YOU want me to or because YOU think iut shoudl sound a certain way. How come I can write pages and pages of meaningless posts in this blog, but when it comes to writing lyrics i feel so stuck right now. i beat myself up over it. why do i do that? when i was a kid i had a huge imagination. i imagines whole movies out of picture books and whole worlds out of my lego pieces. i never did it for anyone else. i had nothing to prove to anyone. i was just doing it to escape… to escape to a place that I created that YOU don’t know about, that YOU can’t find. there i was perfectly happy in my solitude of abundant imaginary stories. i need to go back there. that is my place i need to be. don’t talk to me about this stuff. it makes me shy.

Just like to say that without ever intending this exercise to become competitive, I have beat my previous record and today for the first time ran 6km in 24 minutes. That’s 4 minutes a kilometer. I love passing bicycles on the sidewalk and the eyes of little old ladies smiling at me – some fucking kidpunk not breaking stuff and killing himself but actually being proactive. Or maybe that’s just how i interpret it.

One of those moments I frequently have when I look at my current state and smile to myself thinking, “This is my life.” I just made dinner and am now eating it. I’m eating more of that banana sauce I made last week, on brown rice and steamed asparagus and brocoli. I’m listening to The Cult, drinking San Pellegrino out of a clear glass. I’m reading Plato’s Republic while I eat.

What did I do today?

Woke up alone. Felt alone. Immediately felt guilty for not getting anything done cause it was a Saturday and this is supposed to be one of those days where ordinary people are supposed to rest or something. Saturday is pretty much the only day I can get any chores done that I need to get done. Woke up with the sun in my eyes when I tore back the sarong, pinned up, filtering the window light. Glorious day. Dripping with Glory as I would imagine glory to be used in a sentence to describe a very sunny day that makes everything crisper and fuller of life, or some semblance of God. It told me not to be miserable and to just start living today like you’ve done every other day. So, today I listened.

Walked to Reno’s intending to eat a breakfast in solitude, maybe get to read the paper. Stopped in at Dadabase to say hi to Ignacio and cause when I ran in to Mo and Ignacio last week they told me to come in and sign their “manifesto” and join the Main St. community of people that are all on this “Main Street for Peace” kick. They told me they want my name on the back of their shirts – my artist name, nokin. They are printing these shirts that say “Main Street for Peace” with a pretty line art picture of a peace dove on the front and the names of some 60 artists and Main St. merchants. They said they’d add my name to the list and give me a shirt with a donation of 5 bucks next run they do. I thought in my head that when they give me one I’ll cross out the ‘peace’ with a jiffee marker and write war. If you know me at all you would know what that means. It doesn’t mean I am for war. It doesn’t mean I am against peace. Sure, I like peace. We also live in the luxury of a society where peace is at already here at home while war is discretly hidden from our ignorant eyes across an ocean, on the other side of the world and the only thing that gives it away is the headlines on the newspapers saying 8billion more tax dollars going to fund a war most don’t care to know about. It just all seems so absurd. It intices the apathy in me… If we’re gonna turn a blind eye, if there really is nothing we can do to stop our government and the government of other nations from participating in an unjust war then why bother… let’s join em. Then on the other hand there is the side of me that shouts for slaughter and war and to bleed the earth and all it’s inhabitants quicker than we already are. Like watching a rodeo and while the inner child in me is crying over the death of another calf I am cheering with the rest of the stadium for death and more death and more entertainment watched safely from up here in my nosebleed seats with my popcorn and peanut enema.

Had breakfast at Reno’s. Not in solitude. Devitt was there with his loyal herd of fellows. Felt pushed down – 2 feet small. The younger brother. I never liked my brother’s friends anyway. I just felt so alone.

After breakfast of pancakes and mash I journeyed by foot up Main Street. I looked in the Salvation Army for cowboy boots for me but I found some for you. I couldn’t figure out what size you’d fit. I know you’re a 9 and a half but you never know with leather. you never know at all. I have two pairs of jeans by the same brand and the same size ans the same model and they fit entirely differently. so you never know at all. i called you just to tell you i wanted to buy you boots but will have to wait for your feet to be there but i just got your recording. i wanna do nice things for you. i wanna treat you nice. i wanna buy you things. i wanna dress you up pretty and i’m making a conscious effort every day to be a better person for you. for us.

i kept walking all the way to the bank up on 27th Avenue. It was as sunny a day I can remember in a while. A glorious day. My eyes bled tears from the cold wind and prying light. Cashed the cheque. The pavement was dry enough so that the skaters and bikers were all out with the dog walkers and sunday perusers doing their perusing a day early. To the next bank, and payment of 600 dollars to my Visa bill. If it was sunny all the time I would never need to bus. I could just walk always. Took the side streets to admire the architecture. Saw some bay windows and thought of you. And the way I like to act so smart. I was thinking it’s about time for me to realize that you are already impressed enough. Made a journey to Broadway and Heather, to the London Drugs to fill a prescription for antibiotics. I have a staph infection, if I hadn’t told you. It’s a common bacteria. It’s an infection that can kill. That’s why I waited a week and 4 days to fill my prescription. Death is never quick enough for some.

Talked to my sister and my mom and my dad on the phone. I thought I would never enjoy talking to them again. But things are changing. I’m growing to love them again. I like talking to my mom about things that interest her like cooking and gardening and for some reason I can actually get in to conversations about things i have no interest in but enjoy the act of being unified in conversation with her about things. My dad isn’t going to be around many more years and I am grateful to have these last few years in this frame of mind to remember him and be remembered by. Everyday I notive ways I am like him, much to my disappointment at time how incredibly similar we are. I will always remember the things he has taught me and the ways I aspire to be more like him everyday. Those things I always resented when younger are the things that make him strong and the things I admire. Simplified heroic.

Practiced bass and guitar at home for about 6 hours straight. Learned the bass parts for The Patient and Lateralis by Tool and the bass part for Professor Nutbutter by Primus. Those are some really complicated and strenuous basslines to play and it was really satisfying learning them. Remembering how to play them is a whole nuther thing. But I know how to play them at least. Also learned the acoustic guitar part for Young Pilgrims by The Shins. As well, I programmed about 6 new bass presets in Guitar Rig. Guitar Rig is this piece of software by Native Instuments that emulates a whole shitload of amps, cabs, effects and mic placements. I create presets that sound good and then save them so that when I start recording I can just select one of the sounds I’ve created and get on with the creative process rather than getting held up by not having an inspiring sound.

She’s out at a meathead festival called the Elite Fighting Championship and the more it happens the more I am becoming okay with letting that piece of me go; that uncomfortable attachment to the idea that I am the only one that can find her attractive. She’s the main course. The fight is jsut the side dish. Of course entree’s are smaller these days and sides are a good filler. I could feel lonely. I could feel disapointed. While a mass of other guys are gawking at her, fulfilling their vague juvenile sexual fantasies with superficial images of her body and nulifying the insides, i am searching for freedom from the haunting attachment to the need to protect her from such a situation. Perhaps if eyes threw punches I could feel the need to protect her, to defend her position. But they are not indellable I have no argument when she comes home to me everynight and puts her arms around me and can tell me everything cause she knows I love her. That is more than any other can dream about, and I am so fortunate to have found love.

I was cooking experimentally tonight. What started out as just frying a chicken breast and making a salad turned in to this:

1 white onion chopped
2 cloves of garlic finely minced
1 tablespoon of minced
some olive oil and some sesame oil to sautee
1 potato chopped up in to small chunks
1 chicken breast cut in chunks
1 teaspoon chili powder
1 teaspoon tumeric
1 teaspoon black pepper
1 very ripe banana mashed up good
1 little can of tomato paste
some water to bring to a slight boil

served over steamed brocoli and asparagus with spinach salad on its side

that’s the sauce. it tastes like there’s red wine in it, but there’s not. it’s an interesting flavor. the tomato taste is a little overpowering so use less next time. the sharpness of the onion and the sweetness of the banana add a tangy sweet/sour appeal to the sauce. the potato chunks flatten out the sauce a bit so it is not so overpowering but could have been chopped even smaller or mashed into the sauce.

next time serve the sauce over top of basmati rice, with the chicken not in the sauce but sliced length wise and sitting on top of the sauce. Replace potatos or chicken or both with mushrooms. Would be good over pasta as a sauce. Asparagus and Brocoli on the side. Garnished with stuffed orange peppers.
Given the intensity of the flavour, might be good as a sauce for a side (broiled over a splayed baked potato?)
Would go well with cheese.