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All For One

Posted 5 March 2003, 9.13 am by The_Roach

I'm gonna take things down a notch here, get a little personal. Many of you may find this difficult to believe, but I don't have a lot of friends. I know. It's shocking to imagine. It must be something about my demeanor that makes me undesireable. The friends I do have, their numbers have been dwindling in recent years for one reason or another.

This isn't a ploy for pity or sympathy. I don't want it, never have. I want to talk about one of my friends here because there's something significant going on in her life right now and I can't tell anymore if it's my place to involve myself in it.

One of the funny things about my relationships with the opposite sex, platonic or otherwise, is that I always seem to find myself becoming attached to their families. I can't recall a girl I've dated where their mothers or fathers haven't had some sort of impact upon me. More often than not, I miss the parents far more than I miss the girl when it's all said and done.

The mother of a young lady I was close to all through high school insists that I come to passover at their house every year, despite not being jewish myself. I don't even talk to the girl anymore. Another girl (who has long since been relegated to the status of acquaintance simply by virtue of never being in contact with her), her mother still talks to me on the phone almost weekly. Checks to make sure that I'm eating properly, that I'm not smoking too much.

Recently, I spoke with an old, very close friend. I have not seen her since the night of my twenty-first birthday over 18 months ago. We've been through a lot of shit together, she and I. A lot of bad relationships, some pain, some suffering. When she walked into my place of work one day after having had no communication with her in nearly three months, all it took was a glance to know that she was pregnant despite being only a few weeks in. That's how close we've always been. It's always been this way with us, only showing up when something important has happened. Sometimes it's only a few months, sometimes it's over a year. I always know that when the shit hits the fan, however, that I can go to her and she'll support me. She can always talk to me because I'm always going to be there.

I spoke to her most recently in mid-February. I try to drop a line every other month or so, just to see if she's still alive. Nine times out of ten, she forgets to return my call. This time, she called back, said it was part of her New Year's resolution to become better at returning messages. That, and her mother has been diagnosed with cancer of the pancreas. Happy Valentine's Day.

It's not fucking fair. Yeah, I know, life's not fair, get a fucking helmet. I know that line. I say it all the goddamn time. It makes me fucking sick to my stomach to think about all the times I've said that to somebody expecting that it'll make some kind of difference. Life's not fair. Fuck life. She may not be any sort of saint, but I can think of thousands of people more deserving of the kind of pain and suffering that this woman is going to go through, and I include myself in that list. The doctors are optomistic about chemotherapy. Isn't that grand? Meanwhile, she loses more weight, she loses her hair and she loses more of the energy and vitality that I have so admired in her despite any of the bullshit life handed her before. And here's life, shoveling more on.

The thing that gets me, the thing I'll be least surprised by when next I see her... it probably doesn't bother her at all. Well, it bothers me.

More likely to follow.

Are you ready?

Posted 1 March 2003, 7.53 am by Acheron

Well, are you?

Vat are you talkin' about?

Posted 28 February 2003, 7.01 pm by Shaggy

March break is here. Oh everyone cheer, because march break is here.

Okay, yeah, I know, I still have 200 pages of papers due at the end of the break. Yeah, I know I still have to manage to job-hunt in Halifax so I can stay with my girlfriend this summer (oh, it will be wonderful if I can see her more than 3 times a year!). And yes, I do also know that I hate travelling.

However, all these things are going to, from now on, be on my own schedule. I do not enjoy the strict scheduling of the day. I do not like it when I find myself using the facilities at the same time each day. I like the anomalies, things like being hit on, growing a beard, making weird, experimental foods, writing...

I am a man of random thought. Satan-monkey nipples. Okay, that just was not funny in the least, but perhaps a few people might not think of me as stale anymore.

At any rate, I am a man without a schedule. I like to operate on my own motivations, on my own discrepancies. I like taking a day off for no reason then I do not feel smart today, I enjoy computer shopping, video games, and other useless tasks that leave me with little-to-nothing more than when I first started.

In fact, it is an idea of mine that human-kind needs wasted time. Think of the most common "down-time" activities: drinking until stupidity, drugs, sex, masturbation, viewing porn, video games... all of these things (at least, if you are cautious) leave you with nothing to show for your time. If you are not careful, granted, a few of these activities could wind you up with pregnancy, venereal diseases, or a host of other negatives, but I do not think anyone would argue that you are being productive in the least in undergoing these things.

So now, I waste time... thinking, reading, and writing. In other words, I cannot get sloshed, my girlfriend's in another city, video games can only occupy me 1 hour at a time, and damn it all to hell, I do not like wasting my time.

Unless its sex. I particularily enjoy sex.

hidden memories

Posted 28 February 2003, 3.39 am by Villager

He sat, shivering on the bathroom floor, crumpled up against the wall. He winced at the pain, and forced himself to lift his shirt up to see if he was bleeding. There was no blood. The only proof of the blows lay in the dark colouration that covered his bones, the bones that were now too scared to move. He closed his eyes once more, trying to block out the light. He thought for a second of try to get to his bed, the place where warmth and darkness were guaranteed. But that would mean standing up and walking, and there wasn't enough life left in his young body to attempt that.

He tried to censor his own thoughts, to run away from thinking. He didn't want to think or to remember. He ached to fall asleep and remember nothing when he woke up. But unlike usual, the pain didn't let him forget. Sharp pangs of feeling interrupted the darkness created by tightly clenching his eyelids. Tears fled down his cheeks, dripping onto his hand. He was old enough to know that crying brought no comfort, but he was incapable of stopping them even if he were to think of doing so.

From the pains in his body grew anger (that would later become hatred), and on this he blamed his ills. Feeling sick, he desperately tried to leave his body. To leave everything he felt and thought behind on the cold, hard bathroom floor, and go somewhere where there was nothing to think about, no thoughts to haunt his heart. He was worried that someone would find him like this, and they surely would if he stayed for much longer. He almost wished they would, the loneliness of his suffering being the worst thing of all. His breathing began to slow, the stress of thoughts slowly falling away. Reprieve came in the form of dreaming, consciousness slipping into numb.

Star Gazing

Posted 25 February 2003, 11.29 pm by Strawberry

What is this feeling deep inside?
As I gaze at the starry night
Why do I have this want, this need
To go and meet that starry light?
I have no cause to want to leave,
No reason to go away.
I have everything I could ever need.
Why would I want to go another way?
My brother’s wife is with child,
My parents have been married for years.
I have never been rebellious or wild,
I have never seen anybody’s tears.
My life could be no sweeter
I have a loving man to be with me,
I am blessed by dear Demeter.
And yet…still…what can this be?
As I look at those twinkling stars
I feel this hole inside
I feel trapped and behind bars
These feelings I cannot push aside.
I now know what I must do
After countless debates in my mind
I know not where I shall go to
I’m leaving blind.
But this much I’m certain,
I must get out of this place
To this life I’ll draw a curtain
No one shall see these tears on my face
I must go now, and journey forth
To where, I shall not know
Whether east, west, south or north…
Wherever the wind shall blow.
My departure leaves me with deep sadness,
As I don’t know when we shall meet again.
But please, towards me hold no madness.
For you shall always be in my heart, my friend.


Posted 22 February 2003, 5.06 pm by Arguile

Ordinarily, things are taken a bit out of skelter from what they seem to the person living them. People very rarely think of what's going around them as normal, and most times tend to influence what they see with their own personal biases. Let's say I tell you that John hits his wife, and she often shows up to work and to PTA meetings with bruises on her face. Based off of those facts alone, you'd tell me that John was an asshole and deserves a good beating, right? Well, what if I told you that John hits his wife because she threatens his life and the life of their child on a regular basis? Does that make you change your mind? What if I told you that the kid was a constant risk to be held and shot his father in the knee at one point. Does that make you think the kid is an ungrateful bastard?

Every situation needs all of the facts before an accurate judicial process can begin. That's why there are examinations and cross-examinations done in a courtroom before a verdict is made... if they didn't, it would be incredibly easy to jump to some sort of fallable conclusion and make yourself seem like the fool. Unfortunately for us, in everyday situations, accurate representation does not always happen. Most times we hear something from a friend, or we hear through the grapevine about some sort of seemingly catastrophic incident which seems completely implausable but apparently true. Because of what we hear, we make conclusions based upon what happens and what we hear and what we see... so things are inherently geared for disaster.

I know what you're thinking. To take the time to carefully judge every situation is just as inherently fallable since most situations are exactly as they appear. However, what if we had the time necessary to delve into the heart of the matter with every situation? Do you feel like your life could have been changed if you had reacted to a situation differently, honestly? I believe this is how and why regret plays into our daily lives. When people react as they see fit without knowing any details, your mind realizes the fact that something is seemingly false, and tends to spend alarming amounts of time trying to evaluate a situation it knows nothing more about than it did before.

Anyway, I've gone off on a tangent.

Not everything is how it seems. No matter how often your stereotypes or your preconceptions or anything else appear to be true, there will come a time in your life in which every stereotype will be broken, every preconceived notion you had will be shattered, and everything you thought was true will be turned helplessly upside down as if it were some sort of hypothetical red-headed stepchild being beaten.

Let's try a different approach.

In Jurassic Park, Jeff Goldblum's character is talking about the chaos theory: a theory which states that everything happens randomly therefore hypothesizing that nothing can happen the same way twice in a row. Or, the fact that makes this theory infallable, it has a completely random chance of happening twice in a row, or happening an infinite amount of times in a row. There are so many factors in play in nature that it's very difficult for something as simple as a water drop falling down the back of a hand to happen exactly the same way twice.

Now that you have that metaphor seated firmly in your head, I'll begin to explain what the hell it is that I'm talking about. There are so many social phenomenon that it's impossible to predict what will happen in society at any given time. And a single person is ordinarily so complex that it's difficult to predict what will happen with their lives, or predict what happened in their past based solely upon other people's accounts of what has happened. You'll find that more often than not, you'll be proven horribly wrong if you try to jump to any sort of conclusion without knowing what's going on first. I suppose that's where my rant ends.


Posted 21 February 2003, 9.09 pm by Shaggy

I hear the drip of the drops
and I wonder all the time
Whether or not they mean anything

I feel sex awakening me
I feel the sun against my back
and I wonder all the time,
Whether or not this means something

Everything is a symbol, I think
Everything is something to be taken
The way you act,
Who you fuck
Where you fuck
It all has some meaning, some greater scheme

If you do not believe me,
Try doing something against your perception of normal
And see what return
There shall be

See what will come back and how hard
See who's opinion changes or is destroyed

If you doubt that everything is a sign for something else,
Then how can you explain these words?

Strip It Down

Posted 21 February 2003, 4.57 am by Villager

What an incredible volume of shit we all wade through each day. From childhood we sacrifice armies of brain cells trying to make sense of the confusion in which we exist. Trying to bring order to chaos. Trying to decipher the immense labyrinthine environment which constantly changes and expands around us. Not only do we have this task placed upon our shoulders, we must do it within the superstructure of society which those around us and before us saw fit to put in place. The young mind is both stimulated by this environment and stifled by its expectations and inflexibility. We struggle to breath in the air which we know and are taught, yet the air we know not, which deep down we long for, is now poisoned beyond salvation. We are irrevocably the products of our education and the proverbial child within can do nothing more than try to separate the superficial from the tangible in a long and bitter battle to identify one's true self, rather than the strange figure that stares back in the mirror.

Trouble is, if you spend long enough floating between superstructure and acknowledging (and then, crucially, embracing) your own feelings and emotions, gradually they both dissolve away, leaving little more than a forlorn residue of apathy. Persisting with life's quirks and amusements, in an immature, inane belief that deliverance from boredom and emotional lethargy will be taken away just as effortlessly as it was imposed, will eventually produce a sour mental incontinence, perhaps manifested in alcohol, violence, or in a desire for danger or solitude. Those of us who were tampered with more than most are sewn into a mould which hardens with time and abuse, a process which is harder to stop than to worsen. The mind cannot withstand flux and insecurity for a great length of time without suffering significant damage, something which is far harder and time consuming to undo. Those stitches which scar us cannot easily be removed, they are even harder to recover from. The scars will always tell a story.

What, then, if anything, can be done to curtail the bleeding of the mind? How do we claw back the knowledge and confidence we vaguely remember possessing as children? In truth I am not convinced it can be done. I have come a long way since I first realised that the world with which I was presented didn't fit with what was inside, but I'm not sure that I'm any closer to finding out what does. It would be easy to blame this corruption on materialism and false worth. A child can be easily tempted to become lost in the pretend delights of what you can touch and be surprised by, and this imperceptible devil even manages to keep some of them for life. But what comes of those who earn the ability to see the world for what it really is? What is truth without importance?

Strip it down and all you have left is a naked, lonely animal, sensitive to pain and with an extensive spectrum of desires and impulses. The seeming simplicity of these traits is twisted and malformed by the toxic effect of environment. Understanding a person without a world is as impossible as it is pointless. Much as it might seem ideal, we cannot exist in a state of indulgence and ignorance; it would be imperfect and impractical. Human nature would not allow it. We must, then, wrestle with the fetid impositions for identity and some kind of tolerable order. The key to having everything you want is to want as little as possible. If we can identify what honestly stimulates and soothes the naked, lonely animal in each of us, then we are able to build and shape the complex and demanding world around us to better reflect the more basic, innate needs we possess. I am neither old enough nor wise enough to know where the quest, for what is ultimately satisfaction, contentedness and freedom from the different kinds of torment, will end. After all, that's what we really mean when we blurt out that we want to be happy, isn't it?

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They were done for an exhibition a couple of years ago . They asked for something to so with the summer. They are mixed media and oil paint on metal advertising boards - for ice cream.

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80s candy bars were pretty good

only because i traded it for a candy bar in the 80's.

lol we all know you don't have a soul ghoti

my soul for some carbs...

But of course!

Yo ! Does this work ?


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