Know your fruits.

•April 13, 2009 • 3 Comments

Today, I visited my dear old myspace page.  HAH!  So 2006… Back when internet communication actually meant something…to me, at least.  Back when I was obsessed with msn and had to be on it at all times just in case someone wanted to have a terribly shallow conversation with me. It’s actually pretty funny to think that I talked to people on the internet that I saw pretty much every day in real life.  And now I never see those same people ever and I don’t even bother talking to them on the internet.  I guess that’s what facebook is for, theoretically…but facebook’s made it so easy to know everything about some people without ever actually talking to them.  I actually feel kind of gross about that.  I must come to some sort of difinitive conclusion about it in the near future.  Because there has to be a balance.  I don’t want to know everything about people.  It’s not real.  It’s just a cheapened version of the original.  It’s filtered so that it will catch the right eyes, or be spun in the right direction.  I’m tired of being the nosy stalker.  If I want to know something about someone, I should have to ask.  Make it worth it.  Make it for realzzzzz.

This may be the most for realzzz I’ve been in a while.  Purely animal warpath type instincts. Gawsh.

Probably an over-romanticized reflection upon Halifax.1

•March 30, 2009 • 1 Comment

School is ending.  I’ve been here for almost eight months.  I remember the first day I got here when Angela and Jeremy met me with my house-like luggage at the hotel around the corner.  I met all these people who I was terribly afraid of for at least a week, until all their parents left them to be shaky and alone just like me.  Now we beat each other up in the hall and stay awake til 3 in the morning for no reason other than to hang out.  We must be friends.

I’ve learned a lot…in school, yes…but also about myself and about living.  I’ve made some stupid decisions.  I’ve made a few good ones.  This year has been really fulfilling, yet tough.  And I feel like the subsequent ones will fly by.  And then I’ll be tossed out on my ass again. Hopefully I’ll get back up with some kind of direction next time.

I guess I’m writing this because I am sad that it’s over.  I mean, I am looking forward to next year…but before that comes I have to go home. And I’ve done home before.  I love it…but I want out for a while.  I love my family and the friends that I have back there….but I want to experience here! Oh well…I’ll go camping a lot.  I’ll get my frikking license and pack my weekends with adventures.  I’ll visit people all over.  We’ll have pool parties and maybe there will be and arty kid around somewhere who wants to do arty things.

There, I’ve successfully infused myself with positive attitude.  I’m ready to go home….after I get through my last few weeks.  And like Lauren, I hope to stay alive until they’re finished and beyond.

•February 20, 2009 • Leave a Comment
Anything you upload to Facebook can be used by Facebook in any way they deem fit, forever, no matter what you do later.
Facebook owns you.

 

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/17/technology/internet/17facebook.html?ref=technology

 

 

Ach du liebe Zeit.

alert but not alarmed

•January 8, 2009 • Leave a Comment

it’s funny how these days, when every household has its own intercontinental ballistic missile, you hardly even think about them.  at first they were issued randomly.  back then it was exciting: someone you knew might get a letter from the government, and the truck dropped off their missile the following week.  then every corner house had to have one, then every second house, and now it would look strange if you didn’t have a missile next to your garden shed or clothesline.  we understand well enough what they’re for, at least in a broad sense.  we know that we need to protect our way of life in an increasingly dangerous climate.  we know that everyone must participate in upholding our national security (by taking pressure off arms-storage facilities) and, most importantly, be rewarded with the feeling that we are doing our bit.  it’s a modest commitment.  we only have to wash and wax our missile on the first sunday of every month and occasionally pull a dipstick out the side to check the oil level.  every couple of years a tin of paint appears in a cardboard box on the doorstep, which means it’s time to remove any rust and give the missile a fresh coat of gunmetal grey.  a lot of us, though, have started painting the missiles different colours, even decorating them with our own designs, like butterflies or stencilled flowers.  they take up so much space in the backyard, they might as well look nice, and the government leaflets don’t say that you have to use the paint they supply.  we’re now also in the habit of stringing lights on them at Christmas time.  you should go up the hill at night to see the hundreds of sparkling spires all around, twinkling and flashing.  plus there are plenty of very good practical uses for a backyard missile.  if you unscrew the lower panel and take the wires and stuff out, you can use the space to grow seedlings or store garden tools, clothes pegs and firewood.  with a more extensive renovation, it also makes an excellent ’space rocket’ cubby house, and if you own a dog, you’ll never need to buy a kennel.  one family has even turned theirs into a pizza oven, hollowing out the top part for a chimney.  yes, we all know that there’s a good chance the missiles won’t work properly when the government people finally come to get them, but over the years we’ve stopped worrying about that.  deep down, most of us feel it’s probably better this way.  after all, if there are families in far away countries with their own backyard missiles, armed and pointed back at us, we would hope that they too have found a much better use for them.

 

 

 

 

 

shaun tan

This blog is boring.

•December 9, 2008 • 1 Comment

Nothing good ever happens.

Christmas.

•December 7, 2008 • Leave a Comment

You look great!

Really? I have back rolls.

If she asks, I’m going to say I’m trying to gain weight for wrestling. Sumo wrestling.

The dog barked during my home recording session.

•December 6, 2008 • 2 Comments

I wish I was less uptight…In some ways. In other ways if I got any less uptight I might just become a pool of  boneless matter on the ground.  You know what I mean.  I know what I mean.  And now I have to go and criticize some dude’s artwork.

Thursday August 31, 2006.

•December 1, 2008 • Leave a Comment
   
  good morning
   
  hey
  are you on the new comp?
  yes
  with sketchy internet
  dialin’ it up?
  no…its wireless and i am picking up the signal from a public access thing..lol..or it could be not so funny
  you look very feminine in that picture
  heh
  why thanks
  public access!
  what do you know that i don’t?
  tell me so i stop worrying
  or worry more
  the question should be asked by me
  where y’all gettin’ public access?
  no idea
  it is just there
  lol
  in tha hood?
  i suppose
  it comes and goes
  depending on where i am in the house
  ha
  so Xxxxxx found a place to live ?
  yeah
  and then starts second guessing the whole venture a week before she leaves
  that is what happens to everyone
  i second guessed my whole after highschool plan many many times…even 4th or 5th guessed it
  but she went to Western to see if she could go there instead
  seriously checking to see if she could
  yie
  it is serious business..walking out your front door and spending all of your money
  yeah
  spending one’s future money
  yep
  hoped for future money
  hehe
  so what’s up with you? gimme some dirt
  (so to speak)
  i hate life
  but i like it too
  so you don’t hate it hate it
  you just love/hate it
  yes
  gah
  i anticipate school
  i need to do a bunch of work on my car
  i have lingering boat projects
  and now play in two bands?
  for a little bit
  eh?
  what other band?
  Xxxxx Xxxxxxx
  today’s band
  i missed it
   
  i came on my break..i had fifteen minutes
  aha
  and then i punched out 12 minutes early so i could come before everyone left
  that is why i thought you were there
  yes..probably…how did the second band happen?
  who is in it?
  Xxx Xxxxxxx, Xxxx Xxxxxx
  two young talented guys
  they needed a guy to learn some stuff for shows
  i’m not really in the band
  i just learned their songs, and played with them
  cool
  busy busy
  are these guys like 15 -17ish?
  i guess so
  jah
   
   
   
  hey

word
  up
  are you in another city?
  nope

i am in uxbridge
  swen do you head out?
  mondai
  aha

so.. happy birthday 
  i remembered, today
  this morning
  hehe..thanks
  my calendar didn’t even get a chance to remind me this week
  you are still busting your backside with stuff?
   
   
  still busting the business out?
   
   
   
   
  whatchu been up to?
  slowly cleaning and fixing things
  getting ready for school
  how ’bout yourself
  i did my piano exam…went camping…shopping…working…sitting…worrying..that kind of stuff
  level 8 are ye?
  camping!
  shopping
  yesh
  all those things
   
   
   
  it has been grand, being a kid…but those days are agonna
   
  unless your’e constantly a kid
  but still not
  there are ways of constantly being a kid…but in other ways you have no choice but to grow up
  the experience that you put behind you has grown you up whether you liked it or not
  for me…100% permakid  no longer exists
  but you already know all that
  i guess i can detail my statement, with personal fringe
  childhood sucked, not because i had too much time, and too much fancy free’d being
  but because i knew not much, and it bothered me, so personally, knowing things and still having a fancy freeness despite loadedness, works nicely
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  i suppose it does
  but you are still not a child
  yes i am
  ha!
  i am not a dragon
  i am not a wizard
  i am not a principal
  i am a child
  and i will always be a child
  [wah] milk
  i wish i could understand you
  i wish i could understand kittens
  and why they become boneheads when the become cats
  because they learn that the world is not as nice as it seems when they are a ball of fuzz
  exactly
  stuck in what the world has to say
  thousands of years of drowning cats brings out bitterness
  slam
  that is crazy
  quite possibly
   
  i feel all sorts of good things toward you…forgiveness, if that is in order…healing, and hope..i feel that when i am not talking to you ..but when i am i just want to get mad..but you don’t get mad back and i know you never will, so the purpose and the feelings are defeated…and i am going to regret sending this
  actually, i got mad for a second
  do tell
  so please forgive my unsympatheticness
  unsympathetic to what?
  wishing one could be a kid again
  i don’t think that deserves any sympathy anyways…it is ridiculous in its very concept…
  thats what I was thinking kind of
  i just really like being this age
  and ten seconds later, that age
  do you think it has anything to do with change? or the lack of it?
  or the expanse of it?
  constant
  though, some things not changing
  change in stages of life
  yeah
  maybe if you’re a smidgen afraid, it is natural to draw comfort from a pleasurable time when such a fear of doing the life staages (jumps from place and circumstance to new place and circumstance) was inconcievable.
  when dinky cars ruled the world
  exactly..like will you love every ten seconds of being 40?
  or will you look back on your 20’s and reminisce longingly
   
   
   
   
   
  and from now on..if you’re mad..say so
  geez
  well i didn’t really feel like getting mad before
  so it started tdoay
  mad at me? or mad in general
  at you
  in general. i find it very easy to get mad at inannimate objects
  well..i’m almost as easy to get mad at i should think
  no, not even close
  inanimate objects…. they’re the worst
  holy smokes they get my blood boiling
  all not moving and stuff
  hyeah
  when i have the plague
  in my fortys
  i would look forward
  like today, looking forward
  not to live there alone (in the future)
  but to enjoy now because whether its supposed to suck or not, at least it won’t
  and when it does happen to suck, if things can ever suck again, a little butterfly swings its arse on by, and i remember that i am allowed to like things
  so when something doesn’t like me, i can deal with it
  if things can ever suck again?
  as in, a person lets themselves be emotional
  right
  as opposed to being an inanimate object
  strangely enough, yes
   
  well..i guess, this has been okay
  it has been for me
  i write better than i speak, but also worse
  maybe over time, we’ll understand better
  maybe i’ll understand better
  i’ll talk to you later…sometime…have a good life til then..hope school goes nicely
  school will be interesting
  hope yours comes to life
  yeah
  it will
  no doubt
  bye

 

 

 

 

 

[And all of this means?  --I am a tool.]

It’s not my blog

•November 29, 2008 • Leave a Comment

This guy sucks.

•November 29, 2008 • 3 Comments

I will make art purely for the sake of self expression.  There are enough people in the world that someone is bound to identify with my particular brand of crazy.  What is art if it is not a piece of who you are?  Even when someone produces a socially or politically charged artwork, they are still expressing a feeling they have toward whatever idea or thing it is they are portraying.  We talk about art being beautiful…but there is so much art that is not beautiful.  There is so much art that is butt ugly, dirty, and unappealing.  Yet these pieces–unappealing as they may be– are still considered artistic.  What is left for them then, but to be the product of self expression?  I guess you can have both….I mean there is thought given to the audience that will be viewing your finished product.  That will have some influence over how you make your piece.  But ultimately, you made it.  You expressed it. Represented it.  Is this even the argument anymore?  All art is self expression.   Maybe the question is: why do you express yourself?