the hardest drive.

this memory loss is tragic.

goodbye! stories,
lyrics,
poems,
scripts,
music,
pics.


le sigh.

is there life after a crash?

two thousand and eight.

i've been weeks without inspiration.

and it's not because i've been spending my time in the malls, decking the halls or checking my list twice.

it's because there's some unbalance in my life.

we're approaching a new year, and yet again, i fear i've accomplished less than anticipated.

anyone else with me?

i usually have hand-crafted gifts and cards for friends and friends alike.
but this time, this year, i'm a different person.

i've over-used the term: "this time of year" as an excuse, or a code, to mask my uncertainties.

i've grown into a chest-heavy soldier, who skillfully covers her heart in a tin cup.

i've become selfish and reclusive. two very opposing qualities to my personality.

over my 'silent treatment' of a holiday, i've grounded thoughts and goals for my happiness.

in 2009 i seek change.

this is not nearly a resolution as it is a re-occurring theme in my life.

change.

and maybe companionship, if there's a brave enough dude out there.

ha!

it's when he said he wasn't sure
that time you were at the bottom of our stairs
eating a banana.

oh the truth comes out.

now.

we ate guilt-free mcdonalds
and i packed vanilla soy milk from your fridge.

best third date ever.

meh!

it just got to the part
where we found we
shared a favorite harmer ballad.
so far,
our soundtrack
starts with a bang!

to my surprise,
you crafted two square gems
and topped it off
with mini french cornichons.

a wavelength-
it seems
chemistry, even.

let's preserve this,
like jam.

we're best when we're tender.

this mess of a week,
has resulted me
in shuffling the world container.

pretend brings my mind
time-traveling
to when the neighbors hated us
and the old man in the distant window
talked to his bananas.

scared brings my eyes
back to the page
where i carefully studied
the words
imitating our reality.

in view,
the perfect summary
and description of where we are still.

am i luv sic again?

fertility.

there's a wildfire
that started in my head
but somehow,
it's maintained
by a park ranger.

he sits there
confidently and gives me the nod
our secret handshake,
if you will.

unspoken advice is his forte.

and so i keep adding to this fire
and he keeps it under control.

no hose, nothing.

he just stores that extra fire,
in a file
or a folder
or a suitcase.

what if something were labelled "fire!"?
would you open it?

the first encounter.

i am convinced
i was a new born
and my mother surprised me
one afternoon.


this massive stage
with majestic dark red curtains
opened my eyes to the world for the first time.


yellow lights
blinked in sequence
like the corner of bathurst and bloor
and
sharon, lois, bram and that elephant
graced the silk doors.

i sat there, quietly,
but eyes bigger than before.

skinamarinky dink, skinamarinky doo! i love you.

a secret.

some long time ago, when i was hyper-excited to learn how to drive, my best-friend and i decided to break the rules.

it must have been a weekday sleepover. i was living with my father at the time, in a townhouse, on a street, i once shared a last name with. my father's friend was staying with us as well, because he was going through a much rougher time.


like batman and robin, my friend and i laid out a plan. i knew, that on the left side of the closet, in a small cardboard box, laid the key to this other man's oldsmobile.


with her watching my back, i remember all my tippy-toe steps, as our escape had successfully been executed. we rushed out and made our way to the visitor's parking. we panicked at the frost on the windshield.

we worried about the cops.
we worried about the fuel line.
we worried about returning and being grounded.

all for a ring around the block.
a boy my best friend liked.

we stole my dads friends car and drove it across town to "drive by" a boy's house.

and to think we thought we knew what love was at the time.

tattoo.

ink,
dabble, dabble
ink.


ouch.


ink,
dabble, dabble

you're seventeen
and a reverse dollar sign
is said to symbolize
"fame".

your friend,
beside you,
parades her matching stars

you're in this pain together.
and dad's going to be pissed.

uncertainty.

there's an altar,
and a white-picket fence
outlining the joyous crowds of people
gathered to celebrate love

& the lead, dressed in black
sweats with the hidden
buckle of his knees

whitey has a look on her face
this ken and barbie smile
that framed a lost moment in time.

quickly, like a brick to glass
uncertainty speaks
and one is left alone
with the sighs of shock.

out of fear,
a blurred figure escaped the grass carpet.

goodbye.

my his-and-hers toothbrush,
with youthful, angry fists,
notices me,
from my messy bedroom floor.

it is true what they say
in the fables.
"many fish in the sea"
"love and let go"
"never two without three."

it repeats itself,
in a monotone way.

i am left hoping
that silence heals
and that
sleep saves

for i am far too worthy of otherwise.

this is hot.

today,
as i hesitantly sip on my scolding orange-cinnamon and citrus spiced tea,
i hang my first poster since the name change.

i am cheers'ing myself to a job well done.

it has no monetary value,
since my inside smile grows priceless this time of year.

just imagine.

i bought a lotto ticket today.

how quickly, all things would be resolved.

how giving, i would be this holiday season.

come see this!

how i know.

your arms, my visage-
puzzle pieces.
and
they remedy
our sleep.

you're not here.
and
i feel like a dropped call.
or an owl, even.

oO oO.

i've locked my mouth
and thrown away the key.

this makes scents.

there's something so great about those morning caresses-
where your scent escapes your collar
and follows me all the way home.

grind.

the sandstone is ground into powdered crush,
pounded!
then crumbled to tiny pieces.
smash!

press it down.

ground on a wheel to sharpen,
polished,
and sanded
like hard work or labor,
against another rub,
grate,
scrape,
rasp.

those three words

it was hard not to say it.
when i kissed you goodbye this morning,
in my head-
i wished you the most wonderful day.
you looked adorable,
with birthday cookies
in your backpack.

i am as sure as the moon rolls around.

"he loves you"
escaped her voice
as she held the scribbled
rectangular play-list
you gave me

like a cat
scared of its' shadow,
hiding behind the curtain
i start to shiver,
to destruct
in disbelief
that this can be happening again.

i have been toyed with.
i have loved and lost.
i have given and given.
yet i have gained all that i deserve with you.

and that can only mean one thing.

come see this show!

how to deal.

at the ripe age of twenty-five,
all responsibilities should be covered!

like a weighing cloud over my head
i chose to ignore,
until the storm comes sailing in.

how to remain optimistic?
in such a vulnerable state of mind?

it's a mundane thing.
oh, the tight squeeze!
preventing you from happiness.
affecting others.

so you become greedy
and you think of schemes.

so you become sad
and throw a fit like a baby.

and you become angry.
to reorganize yourself.

the cool you, becomes real.
that's how you deal.

falling slowly.

coldplaying in the new glow
our eyes met more than before-

your soundtrack,
once listened,
astounded me.

this equation
is perfect

you set my heart on fire.

in the news.

bloody eye,
deo and pizza pops.
behind me-
the cashier takes a look.

my bananas are safe.

flashing lights,
fleeing kids,
beer bottle by the church.
bike walking,
to my left-
a stranger is violently ill.

a silent square outlines
beneath my window-
groups of uniformed
men and women.
never!
in this neighborhood.

tonight,
it is hard to sleep.
yellow lines
refrain the traffic
from my lullabies.

tonight,
i prayed to come home
but i was guided
by a hand
miraculously-
the right place
at the right time.

may heaven rest these poor _unidentified_ souls.

A GIRL NAMED RALPH!

hi dad...

i would call.

but it's late and you're growing old.

i miss your assertive wisdom-
and your hugs.

ladida.

there's nothing like falling in love with beautiful music.

night owl.

exit watering hole
cue scent of fresh pine

preset completion,
cross faded with sense of joy.

thoughts of him,
lights up,
smile-
blackout.

au revoir.

i'll always remember that bike ride home,
and those curses under my breath.

i never expected that from you.

let's just say
things conveniently expired for me too.

mr. wrong.

i dreamt we met again,
but this time
you disguised yourself as an impostor-

and the length of your hair
made me give you a second chance.

you see...

last summer,
you used me for my air conditioner
and my enthusiastic comfort.

and i still think about you.

happy birthday (s).

i know a lot of fabulous twins.

cheers to them!

double you dot.

i don't know how i got here,
but i'm starring at your photos.
this could be somewhat tempting
so tomorrow i'll stay quiet.

i hate poodles, but...

note to self.

i am not to be disrespected
for
my army
can do harmful things.

i don't tell you enough.

the baby blue combination
takes me by storm.

listen, after listen, after listen.

and i think-
auspicious. auspicious. auspicious.
a wise and truthful description, this word.

my foot taps into castles
anxious for the notes to move me tomorrow.
proudly, i'll stand
eyes shifting with the magic.

you're unbelievably talented.

scratch that...

COWARD.

grr.

sometimes i just want to shake you up
with all the passion that makes me.

but then i think,
too soon?

the silence between the haze.

i've seen those eyes of yours
in a vulnerable state.
still,
no one knows
how tight you held me-

an obstacle course of time
this has become.

all smiles.

i've grown accustomed to your soothing voice
and it instantly puts me in a good mood.

terrestrial arachnid.

you snap like a pet turtle
i wish i had.
it comes across vicious
like snake eyes

sharp

it always hits home.

metronome.

here's where you'll see what my heart wants to say
here's where you'll spy and found out how to play
here's where i'll force a rhyme, if need be
here's where i'll set fire to resemble free.

patience.

i keep looking at your picture.

that one that really turns me on.

and i keep thinking,

i can't wait, i can't wait.

squint.

the birds are chirping?

hello, new routine.

15 step.

the swaying hand moves i make to this song
bring me back to some time
where my hazy heart was vacant.

it's a special place he'd thought he'd always hold.
regrettably
only i,
can hold my heart

someone has stepped into the limelight.
since then,
things have gone plural with him.

i wish

i wish it was the fifties
and i, elaine may.

bike diaries.

curled up in my white chair, legs crossed, my wrists pinch in discomfort from this laptop.

a monster smile is on my face.
i really like him.

this, however, is in no relation to this story:

a few weeks ago, when things were top shelf, something happened. i was riding my newly-repaired cruiser, like a champ and zipping to and from events with that moment-specific feeling... i was like a kid again, reunited with an old friend. we sang show tunes down the avenues and had the neighbors talking.

to add to that moment, i had the brilliant idea of duct-taping my ipod to my handle bars. one word- DASHBOARD. i know. you're thinking : THIS SHOULD BE INVENTED ALREADY, right? well this new creation of mine works out, for a few days, until i decide to forget it while locking up (let's say evening-ish). the next morning, while preparing for a busy day, i scramble to find my missing ipod and disregard the fact that it could possibly still be out there.

when i stepped outside, i saw my ipod, untouched. earphones dangling and all.
we're talking 8:30am, bright and sunny bloor street, baby.
i considered it a sign from above.
good karma, for sure.

here's the funny.

this evening, while attempting to depart for yet another comedy show, my hand quickly slipped off my right handle bar. someone had decided to slip a condom on it. at first, "clever" came to mind, but then "revenge" also.

who was out to get me? am i really a bike cop?

oh toronto. you amaze me.

good timing.

i didn't get it.

i made sure to collect all my eggs before creating the basket.
i hoped. i wished. i wanted it so bad.

i didn't get it.

sufjan knows where to take me.

i am sad, not because a great opportunity has opened other doors, i am sad because i remain positive that my future endeavors will rock the house.

i regret to inform you you'll be seeing more of me.

what happened tonight.

sometimes, i make my life play out like a movie.
i create the drama because i love the attention it may attract.
entertainment--
it only helps me understand life.

here's a scene from tonight:

(backstory: i dated this 'artist' for a few weeks, back in january of this year. we really hit it off, but things dwindled quickly as timing remained an issue. he brushed me off in an unfriendly, rude way and i disrespect him for rejecting a possible friendship.)

i'm biking home, on the well-lit streets, from PROJECTproject. i decide to turn up bathurst from queen, hand signals and all. (he lives north of this corner)

i always think i'll run into him, every time i take this route, and i wonder what i'd tell him if we were face-to-face again. well low and behold, there he was. the car in front of me had slowed down, and almost exactly when i was parallel to the vehicle, he exited.

things to say quickly ran through my mind and i started to accelerate my pedaling. i knew this was my moment. i could yell out exactly what i've wanted to say for a long time...

in my most character-accentuated, swamp-like voice, i yelled "ASSHOLE!" and never looked back.

i felt great, for about 20 seconds until the car he was dropped from, caught up with me with the windows down. three other, intimidating and mildly attractive men were looking down upon me, with a grin. "WHO YOU CALLING ASSHOLE?" was rebutted from their car.

at that moment in time, i had to remain crazy.
i couldn't belt out that the buddy they had just dropped off was a coward slash jerk.
they had won.
the tables turned.
them and their all-terrain vehicle.

at least i can write about it.

almost swoon.

you,
and your accident-prone eyelashes,

me,
and my rashy chest.


we look good together.

rockin' hard.

everything is solid.

rocket plane dream.

i lie in bed at 4:26am, startled.

i had a really weird dream....

i was watching an over animated man help a couple in a stranded car on the highway. he was removing snow from their vehicle with a weird smile on his face. he was 'too helpful'... it annoyed the couple inside.

some other spectators pulled up and asked me what all the commotion was about...

i shrugged my shoulders.

then my attention was caught by a jet-like plane that was about to land.

i pointed towards the clouds and yelled "LOOK!"

everyone was amazed since it was literally 50 feet away from us.

all of a sudden, it started to head for a forest, spinning out of control.
by this time, it was summer, for some reason.

it disappeared into the forest and then sprung upwards again into the sky, for an emergency landing.

then, heading nose first in a field, it sprung up again, and again. with a blasting noise every time.

the crowd cringed continuously as it was really painful to watch.

immediately after, it plummeted to the ground and i could see the pilot struggling inside. it had crashed.

the windshield opened and he ejected himself from the rocket-plane.

he came up to the crowd for high fives and i went up to him and said "you're my hero". but at the exact same time, another girl had said that too.

i woke up, feeling angry and unoriginal.

spring fever.

can you feel it?

there's nothing but good all around.

survey says:

i recently had a roast in honour of my twenty-fifth birthday. let's just say, a little survey my sister created, caught me by surprise.

being friends with comedians/performers/weird people, i thought i'd share, with you, the best of the q + a.

let's have a laugh:

1- WHAT WORD REMINDS YOU OF RENEE?

Scrumtrelescent x2
Vibrant
Fresh
Exberant
Love
Awesome-pants
Mysterious
The
Stinky
Deductable
Carrot Cake
Effervescent
Soul
Marshmallows
Purrrrfect
Delectible
Jelling
Skank

2- WHAT DISEASE/VIRUS WOULD BEST DESCRIBE RENEE'S PERSONALITY?

Terrets x2
Birdflu x2 (because birds are endearing)
HIV x2 (because she gives great high fives)
Aids x2 (because once infected, there is no cure)
Ebola virus x2 (because she's highly contagious)
Lukemia (because she gets in your blood)
Sinus infection (because she's always in your head)
Fever of Love
Anthrax
Melonoma
E Coli
Heart murmur
The clap
The flu

3- IF RENEE GOT ARRESTED, WHAT WOULD IT BE FOR?

Sex in a public x3
Public Affection
Public nuissance
Disturbing the peace
Money laundering
Lewd conduct
Assault & Battery
Eating homeless people
Stealing a board game
Saying something to a police officer that he wouldn't want to hear
Being stupid
Holding a corn fighting tournament
Bullying
Jay walking

4- WHAT SONG REMINDS YOU OF RENEE?

Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band x2
Chantilly Lace
Livin La Vida Loca
Smells Like Teen Spirit
Chicago
Theme from Karate Kid 2
Jungle Boogy
Let's Go Fly a Kite- Marry Poppins
Magic Man- Heart
Dreamer- Supertramp
Anything by Jamiroquai
Happy Happy Joy Joy
99 Red Balloons
Sexy Back
Total Eclipse of the Heart

5- WHAT FOOD DISH REMINDS YOU OF RENEE?

Sushi x2
Peanut butter and jelly sandwhich
Hot chocolate with whipped cream
Bangers N' Mash
A Wok
Cheese cake
Ravioli (because she's filled with interesting ingredients)
Cheese and crackers
Cinnamon buns
Poutine
Warm apple pie
Candy
Gyoza
Sheppard's pie
Soup
Jelly beans
Chicken souvlaki
Fun dip
Deviled eggs

oh, what a night it was!
awww, shucks.

ladders

sometimes i don't understand
why you drag words on
like a protection shield.
why that tone is becoming familiar.
you shouldn't have to prove yourself to me.

climbing the ladder, eh?
i see.

what i can't see
is myself
i'm there.
but not ahead, nor behind-
content.

almost the same,
but different
my ladder.

don't get so high,
too high,
where it's hard for people to aim.

the story of 'ter'

so this girl walks in, right?
& she's got this wicked ass hat-
& an allure about her that's rare.

sharp,
witty,

this counter-boy,
mr. red shirt,
sports a mustached horse
and likes to banter quite the same.

late charges?
there was a game
they liked to play.
when that tea pot walked out
a fantasy was created.

april's fool.

tomorrow is the day i wish i was born.
mom knows this
and she argues that i was lazy-
probably.
i sport the jester hat.

i spent today in a place i could have been
a u-turn, i'd say.

we spoke a language that comforts the change
i want to go back
that's what i crave.

impro: mixte et comparee
qui a pour theme: le changement d'une vie
nombres de joueurs: illimite
categorie: sans paroles
duree: ?

penalite!

montreal never greets me with nice weather.

worst news ever.

where's my pinata filled with candy?
or my afternoon party in the ronald mcdonald caboose?

everyone gets a loot bag!

"once you turn 25, there ARE no more candles."

dirty laundry

insert school girl laugh here.

something you didn't know.

i have this weird thing that i do when i write,

I start Some Words in the Sentence with Capital Letters.

Then I go back and edit that Sentence and find myself removing the Capital Letters from some of the words.

And then, more punctuation!

now my work is complete-
read to the beat.


you don't know how long i've wanted to be in this room again.


creating.

maybe it's him.

it's my party

and i'll cry if i want to.

sweet dreams.

the french doors swing open
alone in london.
i want to pencil you in
-my late night snack.

oh wait, never mind- i have the date newtons.

is it weird that i brought the date newtons on tour?

mmMmm.
they aren't as sweet as you.

important decision!

it is time to play more harmonica.

my party giraffe.

your karma gauge descends,
like our sharp steps to the street.

your fear regrets conquest,
as you still refrain from me.

the sounds of slamming doors-
mixed with heals and pounding beats,

will haunt your days and nights,
i can almost guarantee.

we are home tonight.

in a good way.

hello stache-
good to see you.


slow happy.

record shopping for breakfast.

great day.

TWO WORDS.

hotel room
cold stella
home base
new scarf
honey lemon

balls out.

you caught me
in my tracks

i want to run my hands
through your salt and pepper.

enjoy.

T.S Eliot Vs. Portishead

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

words of advice.

i had a dream-
in a place from my youth,
you came to pick her up.
to your surprise-
i answered the door.
beating you angry
with words and fists.

"don't you EVER do that to another woman!"

i think i bruised your crotch.

when i woke,
the anger disappeared
but i wonder now
if our interests
will cross paths this season.

we had scored the jackpot-
in mind and bed.
then again
there was a constant, thick
haze of smoke
overshadowing our acquaintance.

the worse for wear.

something was off.
flashing lights!
sound alarm!

years interrupted.
glimpses paused!
time out!

startled
with fright-
we aren't
use to the fights
the news was heard today.


heroic,
we stand out.

overdose'd

you've flooded my inbox
with what was potentially the most romantic thing i've ever received.

'tank' you very much.


just in time for love day.

tonight, i think i may have overdosed on the whole "love" thing. great show, great concept, great people... but something shook me.

while "love", can make you feel so good...
over-saturation! can be a little scary.

"too much of a good thing, can be bad."

this is not to say that love is an awful thing-

"love" is a feeling you can easily toy with.

if you can't accept rejection, "love" is not your game.

"love" can be fierce, if displaced.

it will move.
inspire.
motivate.

though you need to be ready to conquer it's definition.


with that, i will have to create "helmets".

coward soup.

if you don't call,
i can't say i will give up.

it will find me, one day.

oh oh

mist sprays beyond my window
as i disembark this high horse
into the serenity of our mess

your imprint.
my protection.

murderer

every time the tears fall-
your scent, i crave.

i am confused.

the fire.

was fierce,
large,
at odds.

i am still fighting it-
now, without arms.

this, i miss.

that night
that day,
right now
my thoughts-
absorbed.

you and i
two as one
old as new

highway after highway
hours of memory
re-playing
our best scenes,

my favorite-

you behind me
holding me
rocking me
our bodies in sync.

high as Gord
hands on shoulders
warmed by notes.

something bit that night.

can't escape it
can't hate it
life without it,
messed up.

welcome back

true love never dies, does it?

you.

you know i like you
when i start to write about you.

like a prayer?

the hours will creep up shortly
as a new day brings old shows

emotions heightened,
drunks yelling in the street

the sheets are loosing scent

rain check.

begin.

start.

today is the day where i embark on a journey.
a journey worth years in the making-

i am ready to show the world what i'm made of.