Perhaps I Was Born An Anarchist

I am a revolutionary

Maybe I was born that way

But I know I have grown that way

I will not be the leader

That will change the world

But I want to be one of those

Who inspire them to strive for revolution

Or at least inspire those that will support

Be it my children or my children's children

Or the stranger I once met with simple kindness

Who had their world shifted.

Sometimes I Don't Like My Friends

Sometimes I don't like my friends

But I can't blame that on them

They just want real meaningful relationships

And often I second guess

My ability to invest

So much

Is it strange to want superficial acquaintances

That I can ignore when I don't want to deal with things?

Maybe

But when I try triviality with what I have

And we play our pointless games

I realize that I want more than shallow entertainment

A memory of faces and names

But that's not where the problem lies

Where does my problem lie?

For is the problem lies?

LIES! LIES!

I don't often lie

I just fail to fill in the blanks

Leaving gaping holes in your understanding

Of me.

Maybe I'm just jealous of my friends' friends

Or at least that is the mood in which I tend

to repose.

Its not that I don't want real meaningful relationships

But perhaps there is a limit

On mutual benefit

Before they lose all meaning

Does quantity reduce quality?

I have the knowledge that I would reject them all

For one soul communing commitment.

But I don't really think that is needed...

Or healthy.

So as we all sing along 

While making our moves

Because we are your friends!

You'll never be alone again!

But alone and lonely are two different things

And I usually prefer the former.

Sometimes I don't like my friends

But I try to pretend...

Otherwise.

I know that those times they frustrate me most

Are the same times that I need them close

So Come On!

Come On!

COME ON!

But I don't want to let anyone else in a little bit

When I haven't even let anyone all the way in

O, GOD... not even God,

though I am sure he knows what is Best

I just wish I knew what that was.

Because sometimes I am alone and not lonely

And sometimes I don't like my friends

But I always love them.

Maybe too much.

The Agony Of Defeat Versus The Power Of Knowing That The Victory Would Not Have Ended Up Leading Where You Wanted To Go Anyway.

Where is the point of departure

From what is real 

Into the Realm Of Disbelief?

And where must faith

Take over from knowledge?

There is a disconnect

Between what I know

And what I believe.

I believe far more

Than my actual knowledge 

Could ever make legitimate.

A FACE IS A PERSON TOO!

The face is the place where emotions are revealed to the world

Whether you face pain or happiness

What is in the store houses of the soul

That we reveal to those that know us most intimately?

Stop Go

Stop Go

Change Flow

Trade the Needs and Wants for unknowns

Opening over understanding

That time is finite and does not limit our existence.

The opening act is where the story is set

And where the characters are introduced.

In the entire existence of Humanity

We have yet to leave our introduction

In the Second Scene

In the First Act.

How To Get Lost Giving Directions And Other Stories

I give people directions but my attempts at guiding them using cardinal points, the distant mountains, sun, moon, stars, all fail.  Even if I use the man made constructs of street names.... I fail.  You know the ones that have historical context; mapping out generations of territorial boundaries belonging to the long forgotten faces that once carried the names.  They now only designate asphalt paths.... I fail.  So I use brands.  Points of instant recognition because our minds have been trained since childhood to know, to buy, to love these things.  And I become disenchanted with how our society views the world when big box stores and fast food courts replace the cedar grove or the grassy knoll as our points of spatial reference.  So I try once more to give directions using the natural bounds laid out on this terrestrial sphere, fail.... and the cycle starts anew.

The Coffee Shop Musings - Part 5

Originally Posted  April 17, 2005.

Do I do something drastic

When there is no answer?

Do I love her?

I barely know her.

I don't believe in love at first sight anymore

Infatuation perhaps

And definitely like at first sight

But love....

No.

Love is something that grows out of relationship.

That is why people can not find lasting love

They are searching for the wrong thing

But that is not my problem.

How can I find out if I love someone

If I can't even find the time to spend with them?

To get stood up twice in a row....

The excuses are fine but they leave aftertastes

Like the alcohol of the night before.

The same thing next week

My friend is the glass that stays half full

And I can't escape the gaze of the photo on the wall.

I move but it follows me.

I can't leave till she looks away and I can sneak out.

I only wish you were so attentive.

We could start with messages being answered.

I dont leave many

Because it is never good to seem too desperate.

But why is there a difference

Between the person you are when you are here

And the one you become when you are gone?

The Coffee Shop Musings - Part 4

Originally Posted March 2, 2005.

We speak in colloquialisms and stereotypical euphemisms

Fighting off the violent feelings that constantly evolve

Living in pantomime without explaining movement

Having relationships with cardboard cutouts of the perfect ideal

While enduring circumstance and forcing acquiescence 

The individual is indivisible and coalescing is not allowed

But if we were smart we'd act like water

Get together

Find some others

And move on to the bigger things 

The better things.

But as it is we lie in stagnant pools going nowhere.

But when it comes to movement or staying still

I have a problem

I want both

And it forces me into starts and stops

Not going anywhere

Or long enough to have any roots

Maybe that's a topic of discussion

Or argument it its between you and me

Sometimes there seems to be no point to conversation 

We both know the answers and created all the questions

Our stories are nothing new

Not new to me or new to you

And I don't care what you're going through

I probably went through it to

I'm tired of all the complaints

Don't you realize we're all the same

With small discrepancies in taste

All that separates love from hate

When we give extravagantly

We fear there will be none to keep

The price, the cost, far too steep

And I can't give that much of me

But my loneliness it hard to acknowledge

We are social beings with corporate feelings

And when I am separate and alone I can't possibly cope

But apparently pain gives excellent results

If it is overcome

Otherwise it is more likely to make us monsters.

The Coffee Shop Musings - Part 3

Originally Posted february 21, 2005.

Tonight I will try to fall in love

Send my heart to pieces and piece it back together again

When did the pretty girls grow so young

Hello there, I'd like to get my heart broken tonight.

Sure I'll go ahead and give it a try

With my sharp little tongue

With your sharp little tongue

And my black-hole eyes

And your black-hole eyes

Then you leave me here to the blackness

The night out side

The blinking neon sign with 'thank you' one the back side

Stutters and stammers out

Like the words from my mouth

The words from my mouth

The... ah... words... oh no...

My heart wont be broken

Its igneous gabbro-granite with feldspar streaks

The pink stripes that make me weak

Where the black and white side meet

Like the checker board table in the corner

Where they attacked with such fury that the opposing army fled

Leaving the field strewn with their dead.

Where your kings took my queens

Amongst other things

like it was possible without shadowed intrigue.

You intrigued me to say the least

Before the days of two faced deceit

And failure

I fail

Your expectations

With my constant reliance

one inconsistent silence

and though it took me years to understand 

It all is coming clear

How ethereal girls

With oceans for eyes

Love to play tricks with my mind.

The Coffee Shop Musings - Part 2

Originally Posted  February 17, 2005.

I could do some searching and get back to you with the truth

But I waste less time fabricating information

Regurgitation is an obligation

That I must follow through

So I cut down on hours

I'll come up with something that might be right for you

But no one can be sure because the sources are circumstantial

And the witnesses second hand

I picked them up and gave them a place to stay

Now they will affirm all the things I say

Anyway what's the difference between a genius and a bum

Messy hair and harried look?

All they need is a newer suit

But even that needn't be worn.

And who are you anyway?

And who am I for that matter?

Does it matter?

It doesn't matter.

This does not matter

And now we choose

The way to lose

Run into it straight on

Or sputter out of use.

The Coffee Shop Musings - Part 1

Originally Posted January 4, 2005.

I listen to Modest Mouse

And benefit from the mistakes of cute girls

And Contemplate

Was that a screw-up

Or is there meaning in this coffee?

I requested Love Song

Because I wish to feel whole again.

The place is full of unfamiliar faces tonight,

Everywhere but behind the counter

Where a smile and a chat cost me a buck forty

The dregs of any tea; leaves and honey.

I could do my schoolwork

Or eat chocolate cheese cake alone

Like the guy in the corner

But there are too many distractions

And I dont like chocolate.

Did she just smile at me

Or am I seeing things?

I wish I was hot like she is.

I wish I was hott!

Note to self:

Block out thoughts that forsake discretion

But discretion is over-rated and truth fucking hurts

Last time was a failure

"I need a break from boys"

Then I see you later

And you're attached again.

Stop looking at me

Out of the corner of your eye

With those boy catchers on.

Playing footsie with four feet of air in-between...

between you and I.

The stories say that there is a perfect person for each person

So where is the perfect one for me?

All the perfect girls are taken

But they can still be my friends

And all those girls are my friends

They are all my friends.

Sure I love you, but just not in that way.

Dont take these movements so seriously

These words may hurt you, but its better this way

Just know that I love you,

Know that I love you,

Know that I love you,

But not in that way.

Senseless State II

Originally Posted  February 25, 2005.

Thoughts On A City - Vancouver

For some reason I enjoy the smell of the sea.  Right now warm sun, cool breeze and the unceasing breaking if wavelets against the shore give me peace.  I could sit here for hours, compare how the sun sparkles on the water now and the glimmering, shimmering of later.  And there are the mountains; green that slides into the sea.  Behind me the efforts of man to perhaps create something that is comparable.  Yet, despite all their efforts, no comparison is representative. 

The skyline may be marred, but these edifices of urbanism still hold a strange beauty.  A jumble of styles; an adoption of the old and a flavour of the new dispersed amongst the stoic boxes of modernism.  Here creating a city that despite a planner's best efforts for or against the various positives and negatives (or at least those perceived as such) still exist as a harmonious whole.  

The forces that shape the city are akin to those that shape the mountains, but in human scaled time.  The plates move and smash into one another building up peaks that are eroded away only to be recycled and built-up, once more renewed.  Vancouver rises up a mountainside and slides into the sea, like a creature sprawled at the water's edge or a lion of the sea that suns himself on the rocky coast, tail in the sand.

Do I think about anything other than the city?  Well of course the suburban and rural areas receive just as much collective attention, but my heart is in the city... Oh, anything you say?.... well of course:  God, the meaning of life, music, books... though when you break them down it is all about Love (yes, that is right Love is the meaning of life, and it can either be simple or complex, but I have neither time nor desire to explain either).

So Love.  Yes, I think about it.  I think, do your chances of finding the right person increase in the city because of a larger amount of interactions?  Well, my brother found his true love on the internet.... Ah, yes Cyburbia and the land of CHAT, which to me seems like and odd hybrid of CrAp and sHiT.  Though that is just my opinion, then again so is everything I say.  Its the second guessing that breaks us apart.  

So back to love or lack there of or maybe a large dose of indecision or non-commitment. Dating? 

I dont really see anything wrong with it.  

Does it work? 

Well, I dont really know, maybe I haven't given it a good try.  

So, What.... You just wait for the right person to come along?  

Right.  

And you just wait patiently?

Yes.

Really?

Well actually no.

I agonize mostly about this one or that.... Is she the one?  Is she the one? 

In the end I am spending almost as much time as someone who has someone, but I don't  have someone and I begin to wonder what was the point..... 

Of abstaining from dating?

Of having this discussion at all.  I have this strange problem that I feel as though I must write down to the bottom of each page in my journal.  i feel as though I am being wasteful if I don't.  As though I have so many deep thoughts that I don't want to waste a line.  But really writing this shit is wasteful and by making sure I write to the bottom of the page I am wasting ink.  On top of this I will probably end up posting this online and thus make the end of the page meaningless.

This is definitely a waste of time.  But in the end most of what I do with my life is a waste of time.  So, I will make a compromise and quit writing right now leaving the empty lines below (not that anyone can tell once this is put down in ones and zeros).

Senseless State I

Originally Posted January 20, 2005.

I will stress and sweat because that is what I do, however, in even the most intense situations that is still rather minimal.  So despite the tautness of demeanor and beads of water, it is not really that bad.  I will stress and sweat and things will work out despite or because of the fact.  Of course I will make sure I have time.  I am never really busy... and if all else fails I will just forget about sleeping.

Anti-Corporate Rant IV

Originally Posted April 27, 2005.

The New Urbanist's Creed

We long for bygone days

The golden age that has past

Creating tributes to what we understand as the Empyrean form

Was not the world better at that time?

We had escaped the city

Technology leads to freedom

But now technology has obtained a mind of its own

Married to the Global Market

It has consumed time and space

Let us reject the technology of our age

And embrace the ideas of our ancestors

Let us create a New Urbanism

To be free once again.

Anti-Corporate Rant III

Originally Posted  April 17,  2005.

One thousand castles of impermanence

For the petty lords of expansive space

We have created the Kingdom of the Car

In this, the land of suburbia

But what will we do when the oil runs out

Trapped in our monuments to decadence

The structures of our glutinous consumption

They will be megalithic tombs of our time

Our food no longer comes from the land

But the local supermarket

By the Grocer's magic hand

Making delicacies from paper stamped

With the heads of our dead leaders.

Anti-Corporate Rant II

Originally Posted February 25, 2005.

"What we have developed is only society, the collectivity, the organization, regimentation, planning, bureaucracy.... and anonymous impersonal technology.  As for man's need to be treated not as a machine for production but as a person, to assert his personal identity, and to have genuine relationships with other people.... we are incontestably underdeveloped, not even developing, but regressing.  Everything is sacrificed to profit and to material prosperity.... even our pleasures have become mass movements, media controlled.... and exploited by commercial enterprise."

Anonymous Economic Cog

Anti-Corporate Rant I

Originally Posted November 23, 2004.

Try to make quality, but all the products are faulty.  

Destroying the good with the bad to make a nation of mediocrity.  

Where's originality and diversity?

My furniture is hand made on an assembly line

Because we don't have the time or patience to wait for something better.

Look how we carve out highways through mountain passes,

We're blowing past the unsurpassable heights 

And reaching our lowest lows through unsustainable subsidies

This is the way the world is bending

Bending to our will

Our Greed

Our Need

Our Greed

The oil's depleting, but we're defeating the critics, the cynics.

Buses are for creeps and weirdos, retards and welfare beards.

OH NO!

They're staring at me!

They're staring at me!

Maybe it is because they don't know why you are entering their world.

Like you care that the automobile controls the earth.

The dictator makes us commute and live behind closed doors.

But we've got land!

Lots of land beneath the starry skies above.

If we could see them through the street light glare,

Using the wonders of electricity to keep demons and thieves at bay.

Like wolves around a fire who will eventually be too hungry to care.

Emo Philosophy VI

Originally Posted June 2, 2005

I work with concepts not facts

Or facts within themes

Themes are what move

Notes are merely pieces of a greater whole

What would a note be without the theme

A single voice

Clear

Noticed

Distant

But Alone

A theme is greater by far

Than the sum of it's parts

So I will live by themes

Themes and concepts

Emo Time VII

Originally Posted May 28, 2005

Tonight I lay in the middle of one of the courtyards

In the Monastery of Guadalupe

The sky was clouded

No stars shone

But one

Faded

I do not know it's name.

Metal cables criss-cross from wall top to wall top

To keep things from falling apart

I could use cables sometimes

Lights from the courtyard

Shine on the cables but do not light the night sky

My sense of depth has been compromised

Making the expanse seem close like a ceiling

I lay on the courtyard bricks and talked to God

Telling him about a girl back home who needs to feel again

He knows her and loves her even more than I

Which I think must then be an awful lot.

The music in my ears is calling me to move

I have been lying still for too long

And now I need to dance

I pass a mirror and can't help myself

I know it is not the same

But it is always better to dance with a partner

so I do

and thank Christa Pffagin

For inspiring something to which I can.

Emo Philosophy V

Originally Posted  March 10, 2005

I'm taking up way too much space

I must think smaller

So that I can fit into the box

The one made for God and I to share

With this infiniteness of space

That is much too small.

Emo Philosophy IV

Originally Posted March 5, 2005.

My reasoning is random

I'm moving constantly

Shifting all the atoms

Confined in infinity

I slowly gain momentum

Till I am moving at a pace

That is faster than impossibility.

Emo Philosophy III

Um... this one is a metaphor.... Once upon a time.... actually 'once' is not the right word to begin this story.  It could possibly be 'at many points upon the spectrum of the infinite'  or perhaps  'on occasion that has occurred in a repeated instance since the beginning of time' .... ok.... there was a girl... or rather a feeling.... not that she didn't exist, that she was in anyway intangible; in fact, she was even more real than the computer screen that you are staring at right now or the fingers that are pushing keys many miles away. It was less 'her' that was intangible and more where she existed that was truly incomprehensible to the human mind.  Thus my understanding is limited and my description even more so.  

Language is one of the worst forms of communication and throughout history has assuredly caused more sorrow than joy.... but this girl/feeling is beyond history.  The place she 'lived', (the word does not describe it properly, but is used as an alternative to 'existed' as the latter has the feeling of non-being, draining all the colour out of being), was infinite and momentary.

And colour there was in this place/non-place.  A deep blue like the sea after a winter storm, underlain by a power of feeling and emotion.  Or maybe it was vibrant blue like an electric current that shocked and amazed all who looked upon it..... if anyone else existed, lived, or had found themselves conscious, electric charges racing along highways to nodes and creating patterns of recognition and awe....  awe at the colour that is an entity unto itself..... But this feeling was still alone in the dark or the place where no colour existed. She attempted at various times to create colour.  Each of these fell far short of the Entity Colour and though she arrayed herself in various vestments of her creation the lack was yet apparent. 

One day/night/point/eternal moment as she was wandering the infinite expanse that was her realm, never moving because every point was one and the same and no point was the same point at any given time.  As she was wandering she came across a pool of glass that rippled and bubbled as she moved through/in/over/under/above it.  She sat before the pool as it became silent rising like a wall of polished black crystal and looking at it she saw the entity colour staring back from the pool. 

It was a deeper colour than one could ever imagine and more full of emotion than one would ever think possible.  Inside rose up a feeling, the first that ever existed.  It was not love or hate, anger or joy.  It was not envy nor malice, not pride nor exultation.  It was the first feeling, the one that all these sub-feelings have since come from.  These sub-feelings do as little to bring comprehension to this original feeling as my words would in describing the feeling of love.   This was the point at which all that humanity has ever felt was born.  

Emo Philosophy II

Originally Posted January 4, 2005

The belief that time is a linear, directed sequence running from A to B is a modern illusion.  In fact, it can also go from B to A, the effect producing the cause... What does 'coming before' mean, or coming after?... it is the whole idea of 'point' that is mistaken.  Ever since Parmenides, points have been posited by science in as attempt to establish whence and whither something moves. But in fact nothing moves, and there is only one point, the one from which all others are generated at the same instant.

Emo Philosophy I

Originally posted october 18, 2004

Every quantum moment 10% of everything is somewhere else in the universe!

The universe has no measurable boundary.

Outside of the universe is an infinite void.

Only 90% of the electrons in your body are in your body any given quantum second.

A quantum second is an immeasurable period of time.

Time is a creation of man that has no real progression in the scheme of infinity.

We are always in the middle of the infinity spectrum.

We are never in the middle of the infinity spectrum.

The infinity spectrum is a single point.

The infinity spectrum has more than four dimensions.

Where are my electrons?

Emo Time VI

Originally Posted April 27 2005

Write in my Diary?

I don't do that at this time of year.

Feeling that anything scribbled down 

Without scholarly focus us a waste

Of Paper

Of Ink

Of Time

But some times this is my release

When essays become frustrating

And the intent of Projects are insurmountable

Here I publish my thoughts without edit

Without footnotes and citations,

Without a title page

Research

Or diagrams that explain intricacies

In an easily accessible visual form

Here I publish my thoughts and they are exposed

Without the censor of second guessing.

Emo Time V

Originally Posted January 15, 2005

A token of a meaning

And your perception of what is being said

 Is confused.

You don't understand

Because I can't come out and say things

Succinctly,

Comprehensively,

And precise.

If I act it out will you understand me better?

Defining my thoughts through games of charades

This is a game we both can play

To make something out of reality

Instead of something out of nothing.

Emo Time IV

Originally Posted September 29, 2004

I am finding that everything changes when you change

The changers that help you get by

And when all the time in the world is for living

Then what will I find that I'm living for?

I'm sitting in front of my computer

And writing down nothing, to finish a song

There is a point at which writing is finished

And that is the point where my hope is all gone

Well I'm not depressed or sad that you're leaving

But I am not happy that you are away

And this is a song about someone I'm missing

But who they are now, I'm not sure anyway

I wrote down these words in a fit of expression

Expecting to find what I mean at the end

And if I look up what will I find there?

The words to explain how I'm feeling right now?

Hopefully these wont be taken the wrong way

A song that's for someone that doesn't know why

I would write something so sad and depressing 

Believing myself to be relatively fine

Well I'm not depressed or sad that you're leaving

But I am not happy that you are away

And this is a song about someone I'm missing 

But who they are now I'm not sure anyway

Emo Time III

Originally posted november 29 , 2003

Sometimes I care more than I should about the trivial things that don't really matter, 

While the things that do matter are left to grow bigger, become major problems 

And cause me to wonder why I'm here at all 

Wouldn't I rather be somewhere where nobody cares if i don't make the grade?

I want to live substantially on subsistence living and give up my driving to go for a walk.

I'd rather be eating at home in my kitchen than driving through drive-thrus and eating in cars.

Now I ride the bus,

And live in a basement where the furnace stopped working and the windows have bars

And sometimes I wish that my life was quite different but when I think really hard I'm not sure what I want.

I am missing my girlfriend though I am not sure I ever really had one...

So I guess I am missing what I never had.

When I look around and see people breaking up

I wonder why love is so incredibly sad

I am missing out on love and realize it truly

But I keep pushing away the advancement again.

So I guess I will stay here alone, forever

Me the Bachelor and all of my friends.

Emo Time II

originally posted  October 13 , 2003.

I am sitting here waiting for you here

I don't feel a thing, I can't feel a thing

This is a happy song despite what they may say

Obviously, they haven't heard my other ones

They haven't heard my saddest ones

Speak slowly, I want to make this moment last

This is the part where everyone finds out,

Who the real killer is, who the real killer is

Who am I?  WHO AM I?  To judge and try.

Lets make a break.

Turn on the fountain and flow away through the cracks

In the ceiling, the pavement,

Where so many people have hidden their secrets away.

And there is no way!  THERE IS NO WAY!

No way that things will change

While they are in charge and running the show.

How will we ever know?

I scream at the top of my lungs

Hoping someone will come for me.

I feel alone lonely

The sum of the whole greater than it's parts

Or feeling less

But someone will come for me

And slowly we leave these things,

So self-depreciating.

I am depreciating.

Emo Time I

originally posted november 23rd, 2002

I am finding that everything changes 

When you change the changers that help you get by

And when all the time in the world is for living 

Then what will I find I am living for?

I'm sitting in front of my computer 

And writing down nothing to finish a song 

There is a point at which writing is finished 

And that is the point where my hope is all gone

I wrote down these words in a fit of expression, 

Expecting to find what I mean at the end

And if I look up will I find there the words to explain how I am feeling right now?

Hopefully these wont be taken the wrong way.

A song that is for someone that doesn't know why 

I would write something so sad and depressing

Believing myself to be relatively fine.

Rebirth (Or beginning again with whatever is left over)

So it has been months since I last updated my online journal (I doubt anyone still reads [it] anyway) but I felt like I had something to post tonight.  Unfortunately, it seems the site I was using is temporarily or maybe even permanently down.  There are about a third of my entries still online (who knows for how long?) apparently they are running on a back-up server.  I guess that is what happens when you are an early adopter, no money in maintaining the blogosphere. 

 This is frustrating.

I was contemplating just continuing to blog on one of the social networking sites I already have accounts with but I don't particularly relish the idea just as I dislike vinegar... and thus pickles... and thus relish.

So here I am with a completely new page on a completely different site with a completely blank slate.  I will salvage what is worth salvaging from my old e-journal and post them here instead. Otherwise, welcome to my darkened room.... don't stay too long.... go out and play.