can't wait to be your man.

the holiday is in full swing. saturday night and he's all alone, writing an essay. the rest of the world seems to be out at halloween parties but he just has too much fucking homework to go anywhere. the only place he can go is to the dollar store to pick things up for his project... maybe a couple things for his costume. he feels like he's missing out on the only thing that makes his life hold together right now. even if he has to miss out on being invited to halloween parties (cause it's not like he's ever been invited to any) it would be nice to kick it occupy style and actually be allowed to go for once before the protesting in vancouver gets more complicated and has to find ways to get around not having a place to be.

his halloween celebrations will consist of learning about BTK's murders. he knows the basics, but every detail possible would be nice to have. somehow Law is one of the few subjects he's ever REALLY cared about. honestly, this is the highest mark for ana cademic class he ever remembers getting. he doesn't know what happened, but he hopes he can keep it up. the part that doesn't make any sense is that he hates governments with practically every particle of his being, yet law is pretty much his best subject. he got in the top 5 for the test a lot of people didn't do well on. fuck, he's getting a higher mark than the socials nerd and that's all that matters.

this time last year he had a life. he went to a haunted house and had friends over to watch psycho. this year his life is homework and nothing has the same thrill anymore. the world has gotten that much more real, fantasies leaving his mind completely. he realizes that some things need to get done and that sometimes sacrifices have to be made to make that happen. he feels like he's giving it all and things aren't getting any easier. maybe they aren't supposed to. he thinks there should be some sort of drug that makes it so he won't go into a rage of everything being stressful.

there's this one part of him that wants to just close his eyes and not have to worry about all the bullshit that is life. he wishes he was a bear preparing to go into hibernation for the winter. that way there would be food around for him to eat when he's hungry instead of justlittle scraps that aren't enough to tide him over. the best part of his weekend will be going to get food. the empty fridge and freezer are killing him slowly. he can't wait for meals that will actually fill him up (despite the teenage boi always being hungry thing.)

<3 <3

dignified sips of his dignified peach and lime daquiri.

on one hand he knows he needs to take some time and try to heal from all the broken relationships he's jumped to after one another. he doesn't know if he's ever really gotten over girls without finding another to pour all his emotion into. on the other hand he's looking for someone to take away the shitty feeling he gets every time he remembers that he's failed yet again. to be queer and single in highschool is the worst combination. sometimes he just wants to throw himself at anyone just to feel wanted for the first time in what seems like forever. then he realizes there are some feelings behind the throwing himself at girls and he's confused again. is he just lonely and looking for someone, anyone, or is he still trying to think of this one like his ex because they share a few major interests? the again there's the slight possibility that it might be for real. does it make sense to take that chance?

he's not over her, that much he knows. he just doesn't know if he ever can be without trying to replace her. he doesn't think that "replacing" is possible. she was- is different than anyone he's ever met, that was one of the things that drew him to her. he doesn't quite know what he should be doing or thinking. every moment passing brings them a moment farther apart. he can't stand the not knowing what's happening to her, what she wants, if she still thinks about him the way he thinks about her. there's a line between love and in love. he might have crossed that line without realizing it. he's gotten to the point where her name or picture will leave him breathless and have his heart pounding for her.

the pile of work stays the same, he doesn't even seem to care anymore. things are being put into perspective, leaving the workload to seem not so large anymore. he still can't get off his lazy ass to do anything about it. he still doesn't get that this life is real, there are no test runs or undo buttons. he hasn't let it settle that this is it. maybe his brain can't process the immensity of life right now.

<3 <3

got the breath of the last cigarette on my teeth.

sometimes things are piling up and there's no energy to put into any of it. he knows that he really should get on with writing essays, making study guides, putting together projects, memorizing lines, writing newspaper articles and such. none of it really means much to him anymore with the amount of emotion for the holiday pouring through him. he gets excited by everything that happens around him and his attention span and motivation for anything else seems to completely disappear. the only school-based thing he can do anything for without losing track every 5 seconds is a law project on serial killers. he finds the murder and death fucking fascinating. the worst part is how he can relate to the psychotic mind in many, many ways.

he can't sleep. he knows he has to be up before 6 to be at school at 7am, but he can't seem to be tired. he doesn't know if he can do it, mornings being his enemy when it's still dark when he rises. the day ahead has him wanting to jump up and down. he finds more enjoyment in blood, gore, and scaring the shit out of people than almost anything else in life. depending on the amounts, possibly more than he enjoys girl-watching. he doesn't know if it has anything to do with his masochism or slightly sadistic tendencies.

everyone's turning to him, expecting all sorts of great things and it scares him more than a little bit. he doesn't quite know if he can really deliver in the way they're all expecting. he doesn't know what they're thinking he'll be capable of. although he doesn't think there will be time for everyone's makeup at all, but he can work in staggered shifts throughout the day for different shifts of people. he will have to fight every single perfectionistic cell in his body to keep to a schedule. time deadlines never worked well with him because of them.

<3 <3

then you can start to make it better.

each day makes it just a little harder for him to carry on. the days make it so that he doesn't quite know what is the past, the present, and what is the future. he can't quite distinguish between what is reality and what happens in his head. he's just fucking confused. after mixed signals and hoping so hard he doesn't remember what was real and what he managed to believe. he needs answers but he's terrified to even hint towards it. his sanity is about halfway past gone. he's trapped in the corners of his minds where things will somehow work out despite his insistence of doing fuck-all.

he has a bit of a thing for strong femme-y types. there's no doubt about the fact that femininity attracts him like nothing else, but it gets 10x stronger when a girl has a masculine side to her. even more if she knows what she wants and can take control. he gets weak around girls who can speak their minds and teach the world a little something every day. there's nothing like a girl that's the perfect amount shorter than him so that when he holds her close he can nuzzle into that space between her neck and shoulder.

the one thing he needs to stop doing is pretending he knows how to keep his heart from giving itself away to those beautiful females drifting through his life on the way to someplace way out of his league. every time it kills him and he can't stop himself from shutting down. he's too far gone again and there doesn't seem to be any time soon that he's letting go.

if he had to identify as something he'd have to make up his own label. he's a lezboisaurus-rex. a female-bodied agender gynosexual-polyromantic with male leanings. he feels at least 90% more comfortable identifying as cat than female. he would rather be called it than girl, boy, woman, man, etc. he has an obsession with all things rainbowed, halloween, or mindfucks of any kind. he would rather believe in meowsus than any god of an existing religion because he doesn't see how any of them could still be alive after all these years. he manages to pretend that a god figure is alive every once in a while, each time he comes to the conclution that any type of god out there is a sadistic bastard, but he'll keep trying to understand what all the hype is about. the only angels he believes in are cute girls he doesn't think could ever be real. so what would any of that sum up to in a label? exactly, lezboisaurus-rex. that is all.

<3 <3

if you won't let me fall for you.

he tries to remember how to keep on going after reaching the end of all that exists in his world. things seem so different just like a thousand times before, yet he can't even manage to sort out how he feels anymore. he's waiting to stop having feelings that should've been gone by now, instead he's just feeling the full effects now, what seems like all these months later even when in reality it's almost two. he doesn't understand why things were the way they were and now he can't understand why they're the way they are now.

every now and then he still reads her letters and postcards, lets it take him back to a time when things seemed a lot more simple. he lets the beats wash over him and every love song has him thinking back. he can't remember how many times he's asked himself what he did or didn't do. some mysteries were never meant to be solved. so he drives himself insane trying to chase bits of life that never could be and returns at the end of the day with his heart broken and bruised. he hides to lick his wounds and suffer on his own, only appearing with dry eyes and spontaneous smiles. some things can't be fixed with superglue no matter how hard he tries. he's chained to the things that hurt the most and there is no key to unlock him.

<3 <3

I want to dance with my baby.

he tries to forget the rest of the world and just get shizz done. he  
tries to ignore the fact he can't breathe very well at all so that he  
can finish the pile of shit ahead of him and hope to have decent  
grades on his report card, interm thing. he's slightly terrified what  
his bio mark is, and his history he knows is pretty shitty. he needs  
to raise them both to hope to get on the super g or honor roll or  
something. he already knows his grades aren't going to be nearly  
enough for his mother, the schools he needs to apply to, himself. he  
puts a degree of pressure on to be at a level the people around him  
are at, although the people around him are in advanced classes. he is  
in the one advanced class too, but he's never been one for top grades.  
he puts in effort and love for the subject, but never seems to get the  
result that should follow with that much work. he gets so lost in the  
amount of things he's asked to do that have no appeal to him at all.  
there are few times he even gets it all done. the teachers seem to  
think he's slacking. they look at him with his crazy, loud, individual  
bits and assume that in order to be that he has to be a complete  
dumbass and they judge him on it, don't give him time to set things up  
so he can understand the ways of the normal student. he's ready for a  
nap every second of every day. 

<3 <3  

if it makes you happy it can't be that bad.

there's this one side of him that wants to be that girly little lesbian. wants the long flowing curls and the skirts and the heels. he wishes he could pull off a pin-up type look every day. sometimes he just wants to be the one that makes people stop in their tracks and follow because there is nothing else they can do. he wants to flaunt femininity and power with each clip or clap of his stilletos. some days all he wants to do is be the picture of the hardcore lipstick lesbian. other days he wants to be nothing less than a dapper gentleman. he wants to hold all the doors open for girls in the halls, tip his hat as he passes people he knows. he lusts over suits and bowties. he feels himself dying every second someone reminds him he isn't in that body. but most days he's just awkward and confused and doesn't know how to mix the sides to make him feel like he's at least partcially in the right body. he wears ties with dresses and binds while wearing a strapless top. he tries to sneak boxers under skirts. most of the time he just finds unisex clothing because it's like they made a third-gendered clothing branch, one that makes it easier for him to live with. others he sifts through the men's section knowing that anything he puts on his female body will look more feminine automatically. he doesn't fit the labels society dishes out. he can't stick to any gender long enough to prove he has one. he doesn't feel a switch in actual gender, just in the way he feels he needs to present himself to the world. he can't identify with girl, boy, man, woman, she, he, ze, or any other pronouns given besides they. but they gets confusing. they is too hard to congigate to use in everyday speech. so he settles on he mostly, because it means the absence of female. because it fucks with society's idea of male. because people think it's rude to call him an it. that is, after all, what he is. it, genderless, shameless.  <3 <3   

the sun says goodnight.

he hopes that every time he closes his eyes and thinks of her maybe she would be thinking of him, even a little bit. he wishes for just once more second to feel like everything makes sense again. he wishes that he could've mustered up the balls to tell her sometime earlier how he felt. that he was just terrified that she wouldn't understand who he is because he doesn't have the words to describe how him mind works. he still hopes that every time he tries to talk to her, he will have the strength to try and explain even a little bit.  he's going slightly insane being home, being cooped up inside except when followed closely by his mother. he can't stand the city because it means he can no longer go out in the nights. he can't live under the stars and have the birds as his call to come back home. he misses just walking around town, running into people who he's seen a thousand times before but never taken the time to just talk to them. he misses sitting under the trees and watching the world through their leaves. he misses having a smoke at the top of a waterful, feeling as if he's on top of the world. he misses watching the raccoons make their way across the streets, the squirrels dart from branch to branch as the sun starts to come up. he misses sitting outside the thrift store on the couches and talking about the world as if there was nothing else besides then and there. there were no other people alive. the winter is taking it's toll on him even when it has not even begun yet. he freezes each night to thaw each morning. they all stare, hoping to catch how he starts all night. the tears pour down his face as he tries to make his mind believe she's still alive. <3 <3 

I was so lost back then.

sometimes he wonders if his love life and lost girl are based on the exact same thing. the werewolf ex who just stopped loving him one day, the doctory girl that drives him crazy even if things never can fully work, other boys and girls that have been a brief moment in his mind. although if he were a succubis, he would die from such long periods between feedings. or just end up making out with strangers on the street... he loves the feeling of new plugs in his ears. double flared stones are quite honestly his favorite thing to put in his ears. they stay in without having to worry at all, they're all in one piece, and they are pretty too :) plus the flare at the front makes them look so much bigger than they really are. he loves them more than anything right now. although he can sense how much his mother disaproves without even having to think about it. she hates the way he loves to morph his body into a little more like what he feels like. although there may not be any trans* changes happening yet, the modifications are still too much for her. he just can't wait till he's out on his own so he can do all the things that he's been waiting to do.  his world as he knew it is coming crumbling down. everything he knew is changing into something that he doesn't quite know if he's ready for. only time will tell. he hopes that some things will stay the same, stay comprehendable. he hopes to have the changes help him make sense out of the nonsense that is life.  <3 <3 

my heart is on fire.

he stares at the pile of homework before him, wishing it away. he wishes for just one weekend to do whatever the fuck he wants and not have to think about what would happen after it. he wishes that everything would magically work out so that he could have that piece of freedom. instead it seems that more and more piles on so that he has no chance at getting everything done. so he complains and deals with the headaches and begs for it to all end. he learns to sleep even when his thoughts are in 100 places at once. although it isn't really a real sleep with the amount of trade offs. he hopes that no one notices the way that even when he's just woken up and supposed to be fresh, he feels like a hammer just came down hard on his head. he tries to forget, make it go away, but each thought stays with him for as long as they can. somehow he knows that it would just kill him faster, that it isn't healthy at all. but all his heart tells him is yes. he doesn't know how to make the heart forget that it completely loves every moment of her. he tries to make his mind think of anything else. he's waiting for the perfect outfit, the perfect timing. <3 <3  

all the girlies say I'm pretty fly for a white guy.

he rather enjoys scaring the shit out of innocent people. even more so when they're scared of his face. he's creepy enough to enjoy the fact that small children have cried when they saw his face. almost made a baby cry today. grade eights and adults are the most fun to scare. he can't get over the fact that it's so easy to make people think little bits of different makeup is an extreme injury.  he summons every bit of female non-hate he can find and tries not to cry at the touch of dresses. with the blood and gore it helps him to realize that he isn't completely giving in. his mother doesn't know what he plans to do. he's still dreaming of bowties and tailcoats. he still hasn't picked something up for prom, there's still a hope left. he will stall and stall and stall until there is no other solution than to let him have his way. he's dreaming of suit jackets with spiked shoulder pads and chains. he hopes that something will happen, some spark that can allow him to get out of wearing yet another fucking dress.  he racks his mind for a reason to not blow the rest of his money on plugs, tunnels, and Halloween things. keep $4.25 for bus fare to and from occupy. and however much for the retreat. the rest needs to find him ways to carry the Halloween into his everyday life all year round, to modify his wardrobe at the one time of year everywhere carries his brand of crazy.  <3 <3 

break it up.

sometimes he wonders how fucking insane he sounds when he's tired. then he realizes he doesn't give a fuck because it's all entertainment. except when pulling a random 2am homework session, that is never a good idea. he remembers having to sneak out to go hide in a hallway to write essays for class after smoking a doob to make it seem like there was a real reason he needed to get out. somehow doing homework when his mom knows never seems to make it productive. he could spend hours working on one thing that would've been been done in 15mins if he was left to do it without the pestering. that might be why he never gets any work done, he waits for her to be too busy to notice what he's doing. he feels that he has to have a secret life just to do his homework in peace. that's why he just can't wait to move out.  everything is extremely dykey. he realizes there is no way he could do anything to make him look legitamitly straight. that's quite enjoyable, although somehow guys don't seem to get it and it's not enough for girls... he tries to be in too many places at oce and he gets spread so thin he doesn't know how to deal with it anymore. every day it seems he has between 2 and 5 places to be at lunch. after school he tries to get everything to fit into the rest of the day. there is no time to just do it all.  <3 <3 

glitter on the highway.

he wonders how much of the workload is him just making a big fucking deal out of everything and how much is legit a lot of work to get anywhere. he thinks he's getting sick. fuck this. tea and sleep, all he needs for the rest of his life.  it gets to the point where he wonders how the world can manage to put out so much shit. it really doesn't seem possible. there have already been too many to take their lives and the list keeps growing. as of Friday, Jamie Hubley joined the list. too many teens from the GSM community are taking their lives from bullying. not enough people are getting in the way so they keep thinking they can do whatever they want and get away with it. each fallen angel has been yet another reason it's so bloody important to remember the semptember children and all the others that have taken their lives the other 11 months of the year. it's time to remember them and honor them and make sure everything changes so that no one else has to ever go through that again. if he ever had a monkey he would teach it to love and cuddle and be the most perfect monkey anyone's ever seen. he would take it around and teach it the culture. monkeys will rule the fucking planet one day. <3 <3  

put a little love in it.

new years day used to be his favorite day of the year. it was the one day a year that his family could have a full-out celebration at one house filled with all sorts of traditional Japanese foods. he misses the handmade onigiri, the little black beans, the different chickens, the futomaki, the spinish. although he never had the noodles for long life. not until last year at his mother's friend's parents' house. the little Japanese community within steveston makes him wonder just what he's missing by being out in the world apart from it.  he misses childhood. how his family would try to keep at least a little bit of the culture in his life. he remembers the food most of all, the way he's lean on the table or the counter and watch their hands flipping eggs into rolls or packing rice into perfectly shaped cylinders with just enough salt and sesame seeds. wrapping rice in nori. he remembers pulling on his family's ears if they were the last one eating at the meal. he remembers his special pairs of chopsticks for his tiny hands, too weak to hold the large, heavy ones but strong enough to pick up everything on his plate. he doesn't remember using a fork very much in his early years, but he rememers those chopsticks. he remembers not wanting any ocha unless it was in his rice bowl, he loved his ochezuke. he remembers how when he was good he would get mochi, manju, or anpan for a treat.  people look at him and they see white, European and a majority. they don't see that the only one in his family that he sees that isn't from Asian decent is his grandpa. he is more Japanese in his heart than he could ever be white. after talking with the Japanese teacher at his school he realizes that although the ones around him look a hell of a lot more asian, they are whitewashed. they can go for long periods of time without Asian foods. he loves everything about the food and ends up eating it at least once a week. he craves it constantly. apparently that's how you tell if you really are Asian.  he realizes how much he wants to make onigiri the way that his great-grandma used to. he wants to learn to shape them just right, to roll them enough that they will pick up the salt from the surface, but not get too salty. he wants to learn the ways that his family does it all so that he can carry it on once he goes off to explore life on his own. he wants to carry bits of his childhood with him through life.  <3 <3 

she's so sexy and she wouldn't touch you.

something tells him he needs to be there, that's all that matters. it doesn't seem to happen. instead he traipses into town to see what the hell has been going down in the place he called home almost his entire life. changes keep happening, new stores replace the old and he finally finds somewhere that he really think he loves in the town mall. it's the first place in tsawwassen to offer alternative gear to the extreme. he can end up with all sorts of gauged items for his ears and amazingly high heels is metalics and gorey prints. he finally feels like somewhere has taken all the amazement of the culture he takes so much interest in and brought it together. a place he actually wouldn't mind parting with money.  another day taking on too much, not following his heart. it really kills him sometimes, how much time is wasted trying to fit in what everyone else wants while he pretends he doesn't want the things he does. it's fucking rediculous.  the way the day passes by, he doesn't feel so alone. in his mind he can be anyone he wants.. <3 <3 

won't take no for an answer you fucking bitch.

he can't quite manage to sleep. he doesn't know if it's the caffeine or the fact that in less than 7 hours the biggest movement of his lifetime will kick off near him. even if he doesn't know if he's going on the first day. he's excited beyond compare just knowing those who were able to make it are out fighting the good fight. he's there in spirit, no matter how much he isn't there in body. that's not his fault, he can legitimately say it's his mother's fault for not letting him. he wants to make a difference in some way, he wants to be able to say "look, I fucking did something with my life". he may not be one for fame, but he is all for making a difference, if a slight fame is what is needed to make the changes neccessary for a brighter tomorrow so be it. everyone seems to be gathering together to either make the changes or break them down. the thing is, it's about unity, not trying to start a war. war solves nothing. war is the reason for corruption in this world. threatening with death is the dirtiest thing someone could do. none of this shit should be legal, but governments get away with it every day, it gets accepted as the social norm. we come to be desensitized to poverty and wrongdoings in society, the only crimes being to do with harm to ourselves. no one seems to care about the world anymore, and the 99% are fucking pissed about that, we're pissed about what a bloody wreckage the world has come to. and we have a right to be. every few seconds a child dies from hunger while the rich are throwing away more than they eat. the rich use shit tons of fresh water to keep lawns perfectly manicured while almost half the world has no access to clean drinking water. even in our aparently enlightened country people are dying on the streets because the government forces them out of their jobs, out of their homes, into the cold of Canadian winters. we are standing for all of them. so what if our problems are a miniscule compared to theirs, we're standing together for human rights. we're standing together for awareness. we're standing together for a better tomorrow for EVERYONE!!! <3 <3      

this is how it goes down.

so what if he's 17 and people don't think it's ok for him to have toys and crap. he fell in love with an uglydoll. her name is quippy and she is his girlfriend. he is actually allowed to have inanimate object girlfriend, there aren't any rules against it. it's the point when you know you'll be forever alone. so he closes his eyes a little and tries to pretend that it doesn't tire him out to breathe.  he is surrounded by incense, the products of his adventure about downtown. it still amazes him that he managed to spend about $35 between quippy and all his incense. it's become a bit of an addiction. he'll try to look out at the world yet nothing processes in his mind aside from tired. nothing can be done.  <3 <3 

I saw the sun die.

zombified. that's how each day feels. dragging feet along halls, pretending to give a fuck. his brain isn't quite connected with the rest of his body, not following the same movements at all. his head says to stop but his body, his heart keeps on going. there is no time for breaks. he screams inside, waking up the pieces he never knew existed until that very moment. those pieces shatter, rain, cry in the shock.  he doesn't like the changes, can't handle the way they rearrange his life. so much changing at once, he needs a constant. and then he loses his time to relax Friday nights. although he could use the money to afford the chaos that is life. the chaos of grad year. the chaos of post-secondary ahead. the chaos of moving out. it scares him how the world revolves around money so much.  the uniform, everything that is what he is not, has arrived. he will have to stick on that golf shirt every week, twice a week for at least the next few months. he will have to be just one out of a dozen or two. matching, soul-selling, dying. this is the work force. but he gets free shit, so who's complaining? if it weren't for the awkward hours and the uniforms it would actually be quite enjoyable. he's going to be so dead by the time the real weekend rolls around. <3 <3 

I'm half the man I wanted to be.

he sits home alone on yet another lonely tuesday night. he knows that the place he called home, the people he called family for years are out celebrating, out on a boat to say they're almost done with highschool. he feels he should be there with them. he feels scared that it's their turn to be doing so. he doesn't know what to feel. he dissappears into a magical world of fae to escape having to comprehend what a disaster his emotions are in. he's not ready, he's stunted, hasn't done half the things he should have done. he feels so illprepared compared to everyone around. he wonders how they do it. he's done. his mental capacity can't take any more. nothing matters anymore, he just needs a way out. looking back at the meetings with the only cousellor he ever trusted he realizes he still hasn't thought of himself actually having any future after highschool. he wonders if this still is a big enough role in his life to have him still on suicide watch. but he doesn't want to be the one to kill himself, he just wants to cease to exist. he wants to fade away into thin air and never have to make a plan, never have to see what the future holds.  he died at a protest in his last life. with occupy vancouver just around the corner he wonders if this life might be the same. he wonders if he will have to deal with the tortures of future. he begs the hormones to go away, pleading with them to free him from this trap of falling harder and harder girl after girl. he just can't take it. he prays for the need to be touched, to feel pain to disappear. yet he still longs for blood to drip in a steady path down his collarbone, two perfect semi-circles to reveal the source. he fights and fights himself, there will be no winners. it's a fight to the death. <3 <3 

just leave those thoughts behind you.

he tries to be thankful for everything around him, he really does. he's thankful for good poetry, thankful for pumpkin candles, thankful for friends no matter how much he doesn't get to see them because he knows that they still love him, thankful for girls to keep his thoughts happy. he tries to be thankful for the body he was placed in, tries to paint his nails, letting the toxins seep in and another pie e of him die away. he isn't who they think he is and it kills him. he tries to be thankful for the roof over his head, yet the person living under that roof with him is fucking insane and won't let him do anything without giving him a deadly headache. he fears for his life every day. he tries to be thankful for family, then he remembers just what they think of homosexuality and wishes them all away.  he listens to the world outside. it's all the pitter patter of the rain and the racing of car engines as they pass by to their next destination. it takes every fiber of his being to keep from joining them, becoming another racing engine to get away, get to her. she wouldn't notice. so he begs himself to not bother at all. instead he'll dream of her and the way her voice wraps around him when she reads and the words he wishes so badly could be erased but are instead burned into his memory. he sees the world and the way it works and how he fits in. he doesn't like it. he wants to reach out to the sky, reach his maximum potential. he wants to know there is something more than just what he is now. he needs to feel like something will change for the better. <3 <3   

a part-time friend and a full-time lover.

thanksgiving. really, what he's most thankful for is having the two best friends a boi could ever have, and of course the fact that he can look back on all the memories and remember that for a brief moment he was able to make her happy. because happy is really all that matters and if you wait to be happy later you won't understand how to enjoy it at all. you need to be happy and do whatever it takes to be happy, whatever path it takes to get to happy. he has a hard time trying to figure out what exactly happy is for him, but he knows that it won't be something that his family likes. he knows it will be something based on just living and not worrying about money. he knows that in order for him to really be happy, he has to give himself over to the world and fall in love with everything as if a baby opening its eyes for the very first time.  he needs to fall head-over-heels in love with the world, the people, everything in order to bring back a sense of normalcy. every second wasted trying to find a way to get away from all of the madness is time that could be spent a little closer to happy. a little closer to knowing what the world is all about. maybe what he really needs is to get out there to try and survive by himself so that he can figure it all out. he needs for it to really hit home that this is it, that the outside world is starting in mere months.  he needs to think rationally, try to figure out his finances, decide between what he does and doesn't need so that it won't be difficult trying to bring everything when he gets away. there's so much he needs to sort through, so much that he needs to get out of the way. he needs the time to figure it all out, but the clock's running out. he panics, trying to come to some great conclution. he doesn't. so he pretends things will turn out and he'll manage something beautiful.  <3 <3 

this world is forcing me to hold your hand.

he's watching as the fragments of his family keep falling farther and farther apart. every time they start to get a little bit closer a gust of wind comes and knocks them back to an even farther distance. he's holding on, hoping to eventually put the pieces together but he knows it's no use. he has the time limit set but he doesn't know if he can make it to then. visiting the town he spent his childhood in. just a visitor, no longer a part of anything. no longer welcomed, no longer remembered. he doesn't quite know what to do with himself. he no longer has that place to really call home. the one he was held dear has the same base, but everything's different. the memories are burried everywhere in the town, but they are only memories. walking through is like walking in a ghost town. there's no escape. like living a double life. when in reality he lives no life at all.  he manages to get looped into going to a weekend retreat at a Christian camp he went to one summer, he tells himself he's going to rediscover what religion is about, try to make sense of it all. he knows deep down inside that he's just hoping it will give him something in common with the two that have been his best friends most of the time since grade 3. for the last 2-3 years he hasn't been able to talk to them and not feel like their friendship was a lie. he misses when they legitimately had a good time doing almost nothing. he hopes to recapture that.  he feels the need to speak, to say something loud and clear and have the whole world know. he just doesn't know what to say. he could tell the world to stop fucking around and cooperate with each other, he could teach them about the kind of love every inch of this planet has between each other, he could talk about the things that he holds dear. none of it would matter, none of it would gain an audience at all. the world is numb, self-centered, unable to see what is going on around them. it is a sad world to live in. <3 <3 

are we the same?

just another night wondering when the next time he'll get a break from the forever alone. he tries not to regret the things he didn't do, tries to look forward to a bright future. he just isn't that kind of person at all. he doesn't understand much beyond wallowing and checking girls out. it's like a pity party for eternity without even trying.  he decided to test the water again, see what exactly his family's views on the grad outfit are. he tried to say that he just really wants a suit or something.. his grandma actually said "well you don't want people to think you're one of those gay people." fucking hell. he's only the queerest motherfucker in the whole school and everyone knows it. he wasn't sure if he should scream or cry. instead he just stood there, not knowing what the fuck to do. maybe not coming out to the rest of the family soon. pretty soon he needs to start taking action, start getting pieces started, see where his writing takes him. he knows that he's not confident about his writing at all right now, with so much time to let it turn to mush, to spend not even really reading. he's tired and his mind is slowing down. it kills him. he needs some sort of stimulator.  everything has turned to sex once again. so many girls that he could drool over, so much love for the female body. he doesn't understand how he can be so afraid of intamacy at the same time as really just wanting to fuck something.  thus begins the weekend that he will be hating every minute of it until it's over. the weekend where half the shit he needs done doesn't get done. not all that interesting. the weekend where every moment seems to be a fight.  <3 <3  

she's in my head.

there's this little thing in Canada called thanksgiving. we celebrate... fucking shit up for the first nations peoples by eating a shitload of turkey and mashed potatoes and stuff. cranberry sauce is a must, as is pumpkin pie. honestly, if you dissect the holiday, it's pointless. but it does give him an extra day off school to finish homework, get away, take a break, write the article he's been meaning to start on for the last week and a half. nothing particularly special.  he doesn't know what he's supposed to be feeling anymore. what he does feel is tired, tired and bored of life. everything is the same old piles of shit to do that he couldn't care less about. he begs for it to be over, to take the chance at life beyond school. this time he doesn't know what to believe: his head or his heart or his body. he's not exactly good at this whole single thing, but he doesn't want to be that jerk who fools around with a bunch of girls trying to make things okay again. he doesn't know if there's any feeling towards new girls at all or if it's just a way to keep himself seeming happy, seeming like "normal".  <3 <3

all out of my control.

calm. it never seems to happen anymore, everything just keeps racing, keeps on pounding on without a break to cool off. he doesn't know how much more he can handle, how much of the bustle and craziness he can take before he breaks down. he just really needs the world to calm its tits for a week or so, so he can catch his breath, catch up on all the things he planned on finishing. the days keep plowing on and he can't stop it. he pretends to not have reached the last leg of his will to carry on. everything just gets to be too much at once. he enjoys the sleep, the only rest, the only break from it all. only, he never remembers it.  ten days before he can occupy in his own area. chances are, with how busy he is, he won't get the chance for a few weeks at least. he can't stand the fact that the world has been treated so badly, he can't stand that people of the 99% are looking down at the protest. everyone should realize how important this is. everyone should be ready to occupy, this is for every one of us. he needs to take all his hatred for the system and pour it into the fight. there is no way we can be ignored. tomorrow things change, tomorrow is the beginning of the next level.  in a way, he's scared. he's scared to fail, scared to not be given the chance to show what he could make of his life. he's scared to stand out there without the support of more than a handful of friends. he's scared to show his family who he is, what he believes in. most of all, he's scared to end up stuck in a boring, old, single routine. he's scared to let peope in, he's scared to force them out, he's scared to stand up, he's scared to not take the chance. he doesn't even know what to do with anything anymore. something needs to change. breathe. slowly, let it all out. breathe in, breathe out. calm, ready to face the world.  a new day, a day closer hoping, praying, begging to be heard in a crowd. screaming for change, for a better tomorrow, to live a life without the constant worry of what rights they will take next. we are the 99% <3 <3 

and I've got a chip on my shoulder.

he doesn't think he can last another day, let alone another 9 months. each moment spent in the confines of the school walls he feels himself dying a little more. he loses track of what else is going on in the world. nothing else seems to matter but the constant pile of work he needs to get done. there never seems to be much of a dent in it for too long. he's slowly going insane. every day in classes is like another drip in Chinese water torture. and he cries out to the world but no one answers. he's so alone in this struggle to make it out alive. he sees their smiling faces and finds it hard to believe they could ever feel the pain he knows. he finds it hard to believe another one of them has pain just like him. but he's heard it first-hand. he knows there is another out there suffering, grieving, fearing for their life. he hates to admit it, but that gives him hope. he screams, tossing and turning, waiting to be woken from his nightmare. he misses her, clutching a teddy as if squeezing hard enough would change it all. he could spend eternity learning the curves of her anatomy. he could hold out hope forever. there are so many things he could've, should've done. she terrifies him. no matter how much things turn out differently, he can always find a way to get away without really talking. he is afraid to say something that could make things worse. he is afraid she'll find a reason to hate him. in the busy streets of the city the moon doesn't shine quite so he can see. the stars won't come out to play. he needs to see them to connect, to feel the breath of the wild. he needs to look up and see that they are under the very same sky. aside from the lack of love from the city lights he can't see the blow of the real world. he can't see that life really does that.  <3 <3 

don't dream it, be it.

he's lacking sleep again, more than usual. he has decided that the two things he wants most right now are purple bondage rope (because 1. it's freaking soft and 2. who doesn't like to be tied up??) and a strapless strap-on. honestly, going to little sisters with Aliza is never a good idea. there always ends up being viberators on his neck. it just happens. but it's so much fun and awesomesauce. although some things raise a lot of questions.. like why would someone want a glass dildo? or one of a fist. really, who wants a plastic fist inside them?? he almost wants to laugh and run away.. but then there's the chocolate body paint too... fuck. gay sex stores: way too addictive. he could end up spending more money than he wanted to easily there. the saddest part is that it's not even really about the sex, it's more about the kink factor and being able to feel more masculine. he might even consider getting a packer sometime soon.  he's fed up with high school theatre and it was only day one of rehearsal. he misses being able to have everything done at least somewhat professionally. he misses productions that weren't all about hormone-driven, heterosexual teenaged relationships. the limits a high school production has disallows for him to be able to really feel like he even should be part of it. drama kids are supposed to be the queer ones, yet they seem to be the least open to him most of the time. every time he opens his eyes the first thing he waits to see is a familiar face. he wants to know that he's not completely alone in the world. he needs to know that at least someone out there cares. some days things get blown out of proportion and he can't remember anything good that has ever happened, any shred of hope. some days it's just a flood of everything that's ever gone wrong, anything he's done wrong. sometimes the voices screaming on the outside aren't as loud as the ones screaming in his head, reminding him just how worthless he really is. it gets to a point some days where he needs to just stop everything and reground himself. the world gives him that tiny piece of mind that keeps him from going over the edge.  <3 <3      

and I want you, oh oh, more than you will ever know.

the world sputters to almost a complete stop. he feels how the days just fade without much notice, blending into one another. he feels the people burning out. no escape from the grind, working and working and working to just barely scrape by. there are no jobs left for them when they finally get out of years of intensive schooling, no way to pay off the rediculous student fees when you need a post-secondary degree just to work at walmart these days. he wonders why he bothers to work towards these impossible standards. then he realizes, the fight that is going on, the one that will bring the world to its knees once under full swing, will make a difference. things will change and power will be restored to the people, not just the leaders. the other 99% will shine. he is the other 99%. he realizes that his mother's birthday is mere minutes away, realizing he still has things to make. his life seems a little out of control trying to juggle everything, trying to make things acctually work out. the world keeps throwing in obsticles and he keeps jumping the hurdles until he literally cannot breathe enough to move another step. he's crashing, spiralling downwards and there's nothing to do but watch. he needs a break, he needs a life, he needs to figure out how to live off of what he already has.  he doesn't know all the answers but he knows how to be the victim. he knows how to wallow, to break down, to let the world seem unimportant in the wake of the shit that comes his way. he could major in that; fuck, he could teach the course. he knows how to just let it get to him every time he hears her name, sees her picture, remembers a moment. the world wouldn't be the same if he could get past the way life was so good before. he wishes just once that things wouldn't come back to girls. he doesn't trust himself to be thinking about things when it comes to girls with how chaotic it has been in the past. he smiles, paints that picture of happy, and watches from afar as the world swallows him up whole. family has no meaning to him. he doesn't quite understand the concept of wanting to be around people that you're related to. he doesn't get that need to live with others. he likes his alone time and how no one can judge how he spends his time. although, there are some times where he wishes he could be the one to fall asleep with someone to keep him warm, to wake up to the beauty of her every morning. he wishes he could run away and live happily ever after. then there's a family get-together of some sort and all he wants to do is stay far away from all of humanity for the rest of his life.  <3 <3  

don't you know it's gunna be alright?

it all started three weeks ago. he didn't exactly know what to make of it, he'd heard whispers of a peaceful protest, a very leftist peaceful protest that spread like wildfire through adbusters magazine. they'd been planning for months and he just figured it was going to be a small deal down in new york for maybe a day or two. a week tops. it now is into the third week and it's still growing, still in its infancy. all around the world people are joining the movement. this will change everything. this will be the start of a better tomorrow. a tomorrow where money is spread around more equally, where there isn't such a big divide between the upper class and everyone else. this is the future where power is more evenly distributed. in the past 24 hours around 700 people had been arrested. arrested for what? for showing the world that the nypd are abusive? for catching police brutality on camera and putting it out for the world to see? for standing up for their rights and what they believe in? for exercising their right to peaceful protest? this isn't just about the economy anymore, it's not about the corperations even, this is about power. this is about living, co-existing on the planet with the ignorent fucks who think that they can push people around and get away with it.  he feels the burning passion to get out there, to breathe a little more life into the flames. he needs to get out and make the difference. it's killing him to wait for oct.15 so that he can be even a city over from the action. occupy Vancouver is coming. the world is watching and it will continue to watch until every last country in the world has realized how much things need to change.  somehow amidst all the chaos in his mind, he manages to remember to live his day-to-day life. as much he wants to just throw himself into it 100%, he knows there are other things that he could be putting his energy towards. other things that will effect his world immediately. the streets filled with dreams do slip to the back of his mind from time to time and he focuses on more petty, teenagery things. even for just a moment.  every moment breathing he blesses, he imagines how the world is, was, and could turn out to be. he misses the past, where free spirits roamed whereever they could. he thanks all of existance that there are such resources to be able to make change in the world we live in. then he starts dreaming of what could happen if those changes do end up happening. this world is pure and beautiful, more than could be said for a good portion of its inhabitants. sometimes he wonders why the human race is still allowed to live. he would think that nature would fight back and resist the cruelty that humans inflict, although humans may just have more advanced weaponry.  <3 <3 

we've got to carry each other.

he stumbles in at 2am, fresh from queer adventures. gay men groping on a beach, singing songs, making up lame musicals, eating pies on davie, looking for somewhere that sells lube at midnight, and grabbing boobs. and of course the pole dancing. he is quite excited by it all. he just wishes that it wasn't to be just a once a year thing. all these kids seem to be allowed to go almost every week, he just has to make do with the few times he's allowed to go. he can't wait till he's out of high school and can just do what he wants about everything queer. 4 months fro being 18 and he doesn't have the freedom to go out once in a while in vancouver without being punished. it's rediculous.  he cheated a little, he had kill of a smoke. he missed the feelings, the headrush just about did him in for a bit since it had been too long. he missed the burn. sometimes it's hard to be away from something so unhealthy. he ended up blabbing about why girls are confusing and his life sucks because of it. at least he knows he can trust that Aliza won't go around talking behind his back about it.  after another trip to little sisters he realizes how much he'd enjoy some bondage rope. it's so soft!!! and then all the beautiful dildos and viberators and strap-ons and even strapless strap-ons. then there's the rainbow disco balls and incense holders and such. he loves the davie life sometimes. sometimes he wishes he could just live in the streets out there, other times he just wants to get away from the cities and the people and the economy and such. then there's days filled with just not caring anymore. he actually didn't quite mind being "the lesbian" even in a group of queens. he just enjoys the company of so many queers. mmmmm queers. <3 <3