December 23, 1996.

If you give something of yourself -
Something which is uniquely yours and which society did not program you to give, then you will see my love, my warmth, and the riches that I have to offer.

If you are lonely tonight
If you are hurting deep inside in a way that no one could ever know-
then my love will be with you, regardless of who you are, regardless of what you have to give.

If you are feeling a pain so deep you feel it will never go away
An anger, making you want to turn against the world and wonder how you ever loved in this life, A fear for yourself and your child - A confusion with no ends - I am here, I am here. I am praying for you and thinking of you.

My anger with people does not end there, but it hurdles over the real moments.

My anger with people is easily concealed in the compassion I am able to feel.

In either direction, I am able to feel.

I feel angry and I feel love. Both to extremes.

If you will not let me be angry then you may never see the good in this.
If you are not able to understand that anger is real-anger is necessary-anger is a healer, then you may never understand what i am about at all. You may, in fact, be one of them.

There are no words I can write which will change what has been changed.
There are no sentances or phrases which will make you smile.
I cannot get you out of my mind - yet you are gone.

The reflection to my left tells me that I am still alive.
The glow which outlines my face from the lamp to my right forming the profile of questions unanswered.

The hum of the PC loud and the pitterpatter of excited footsteps next door muffled.

My artwork on the wall and a photograph of a woman named Helen.
A polka dotted coat and long, blond hair.

I am sitting here, in the semi-dark, gazing around this room.

I see my name on boxes, possesions.

December 22,1996.

Good Morning.
The tiny little dandruf snow is banging around outside-being blown this way and that. in here, it is warm. my (still) new computer table sits proudly in front of me, the decorations in thier boxes, waiting to be strewn about. the java perks, the house sleeps.

awoke to a dream-a marvelous dream. i was the head of a company running this way and that, being pulled in all directions. my comment was needed here, my presence a given. in the car-friends came to visit, friends from far away and long ago. I did not understand why they were there. WE drove somewhere in silence, Joe's parents in the back seat and Cathy crouched on the lap of the driver. Later still, in an office, I was wearing a dance outfit. Was this a dance company? I am not sure. A man was desprately trying to get my attention as I ran from this place to that. I passed him once, and he kissed me as I was brushing through. Then he found me in my office, as I sat listening to recordings over and over again. He sat beside me and began to speak. Someone interupted and he got very angry. Then, when I turned to him, I realized that he wore an army uniform. He was in love with me and I barely knew him. He had to leave but wanted an answer to a pressing question.

This dream woke me from my slumber and I walked around the house with the dandruff snow outside, trying to determine what had happened. This, eventually brought me to a thought.

There is someone here who knows me well. He has never met me, but he knows me in a way that noone ever will. I was thinking of the events of last night and if any of those people have any idea as to my true essence at all. Then I thought about this person who although he has never met me, knows the part of me which I consider the truest part of me. The part of me that sings on the Decarie...the part of me that dances with Ramona.

Standing in a room full of people whom are supposed to know you, sober, and in a very somber and pensive mood, is a very good way to see things clearly. Amazing what you can see.

December 20, 1996

it is so frustrating to be bored and have nothing to say.

i’ve decided that we’re selfish, but don’t know what to do about it. my explanation was, that once you have children, you get accustomed to spending much if not all of your time, doing things that are not for yourself. This would then lead to the habit of thinking of others before thinking of yourself. We ran around this issue several times and concluded that there’s not too much we can do about it, aside from, say, make a New Year’s resolution. Which in any case, is still self-serving, right? i am sure reality will smack us in the face one day and we will look back at our now selfish ways and laugh ourselves silly. at least i hope so.

it’s a selfish world we live in., but i guess that doesn’t justify selfishness. So funny, how I am so attracted by people who are so unselfish - yet i admire and look up to the ones who are. Am i saying that although i am attracted to the selfless ones, I look down on them? Maybe I am. Part and parcel of my split personality I guess. Actually, that’s exactly what I am saying. I want to be like the selfless ones who are so kind and have people gravitating toward them, YET; I do not aspire to be like them because I see them as mushy and spineless. I aspire to be strong and leading, not meek and following. But, I don’t want to be known as a bitch. Am I saying that all people who are nice are followers? Yes, I am actually. And that those who are selfish and strong are leaders? Yes, I am actually. That’s how I see it. I’m not saying that I believe it, but that’s how it looks to be. everyone has always told my father that he should be running the country (actually, I’m the one who has always believed this) - BUT there’s a little snag in the argument. you see, my father would make a terrible politician. He’s too nice. Am I insulting Politicians? No, of course not. You must be cruel to be a Politician. Everyone cannot win. Everyone can’t have their way. In my father’s world (and in mine) everyone would have their way. As long as it agreed with our way, that is. Psychosis!!!! This is so psychotic even I’m losing track. I mean, who would want to run humans, anyway? Aren’t we a pathetic lot? Some who spend countless years helping the underprivileged - and even die for them - risking their lives to save others - getting up at the crack of dawn, living in abominable conditions, motivated by the desire to help, to support, to save, to salvage … AND then still others, who walk down streets at night and beat innocent people because they have absolutely NO self worth, NO sense of life, NO sense of anything… I mean, what is this? Can we define these two sets of people as one and the same species? I hope not. I really hope not.

Well as I was explaining last night, it all depends on how you view the world. It’s the same world - for you, for me, for him, for her. The only difference is the set of eyes and the brain that you use to view it, right? Well, for me, those two sets of people are different species. There cannot be that much of a discrepancy between humans. Sure, sure, I believe in the nurture argument as much as the next guy, BUT there’s got to be a limit here.

maybe not selfish says she
when she looks at Ramona
so lovingly
maybe just different
more spirit and free
maybe just misunderstood
said she.

December 20, 1996.

"Good Morning Good Morning" [Cockadoodle Doo!] (Lennon/McCartney)

"His page wasn't flashy, BUT it sure was funny"

We are funny. We do strange things. We go out and buy trees, in a particular shape, which someone has cut down, and bring it into our homes to adorn with glass balls and nylon trim. This, almost as bizarre as telling our children that on the night before Christmas, a large man dressed in a red suit lands on the roof and brings presents. I mean, there's just something so 19th century about the whole affair. Is he going to evolve into a cybercreature one fine century?

Can we call this lying? Or, is it, in fact one of very few vestiges of a long forgotten, romantic past which we could use some brushing up on in this age??? Either way, it certainly goes to show how crucial is our effect on children. Why aren't more children scarred by this lie? Because they continue to get presents each year anyway? I don't even remember believing, but you can certainly bet that there was a time in my life when Santa was one of the most important 'people' in my life...

You know what? Christmas songs cheer me up. This is also bizarre. What do they remind me of? Probably deep deep in my psyche, Santa. but! Also knowing that I was going to have a few weeks off to play in the snow. Anyway, I will be comforted for now, with the realization that Christmas must have a special place inside of me-dispite the chaos, anger, and stress that it has already brought into this household.

La la la la l al a lalalalalalalalalalalala Lalal alalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala

"For we are the local embodiment of the Cosmos grown to self-awareness. We have begun to contemplate our origins: starstuff pondering the stars; organized assemblages of ten billion billion billion atoms considering the evolution of atoms; tracing the long journey by which, here at least, conscioiusness arose. Our loyalties are to the species and the planet. We speak for Earth. Our obligation to survive is owed not just to ourselves but also to that Cosmos, ancient and vast, from which we spring." Carl Sagan

December 19th, 1996

time for thinking.
the thinking words need to be pulled out, i know they are in there. much ado about absolutely nothing, i think. Laughter, rediculous and fake, eminates from the next room. Who is in there anyway? Same bunch...worrying about snow and long distance calls ... as always. Come on, find them. Find those words to describe how you feel...otherwise you are saying nothing. You are now learning how irritating it can be ...

Lacking breath, well let's find out why. Breath in the physical sense (lack of excercise) and breath in other senses too. Motivationally challenged, er- probably all related to the excercise thing. How can you describe to people how much it affects you? This is how the jocks feel but then again they are on the other side of the spectrum because they always feel that way, so they wouldn't know either. the ones that know the feeling are the saps like me.

Topic topic topic. how about all the fuss on the Canoe Speakeasy Chat board of late regarding abortion? The woman who apparently tried to abort her a not-so-nice manner. I guess the whole thing does upset me then. But not because of what they are arguing about. It's just that they are missing what i feel is the real issue. The fact that the woman needs more help than the law, if she really had to get rid of her baby that badly...if she could actually pull a trigger aimed into her own body and at her unborn child...and It seems to me that the issue is not abortion here, but what do we do with technology that allows us to do such things safely ? I imagine that people have been trying to abort babies since the old ages, it's just medically safer now. Do we accept this technology with open arms, or do we stare it in the face as if it is planning to overrun our lives? Either we accept it and use it, or we fight it. I am going to repeat myself here, but we are creating an environment which evolves faster than we do. I say that's dangerous. Maybe natural, but dangerous all the same. I would like to say, that being the romantic, idealist, nostalgic person that i am, I fight against it ... but I am human.

I think I used to be more, more of other things. I used to be studious, ambitious... I used to ski, I used to sew. More pragmatic. Now, I am just feeling like a lump of mushy.

Yep, a great big lump of mushy.

time for thinking alright

December 18, 1996.

We both run to the store to buy lettuce and tomatoes and pasta.
We both like to touch things to know what reality is.
Hmm, a nice thought.
Music and Christmas
Still thinking.
Time to go.

December 17, 1996

lines in white
there's a fight

into the future? words?. hmm? to write or not to right ?

Obscure? veiled? yeah, sounds about right. It's not that i try to be that way, it's just the way it comes out. it's the way i think, the way i feel. my emotions becoming much more obscure as i age. it used to be "I love this' "I love that" "I love him or her" etc. When they talk of Virginia Wolf and her intense relationships with females? i wonder. I mean, Do you think I'm going to write it out here? Sure I could, but I can't. Funny, even though I don't people still think it bizarre to write you thoughts for all to see.
The way i write gets through in the way i want, to the people i want to get through to. if this doesn't intrigue you, then i'm probably not interested in you, either. Hey, this ain't Mcdonalds here.

So back to something of substance.

exhaustion leeks from my innards. drags energy down, leaving me heavy, heavy. the exhaustion of greed. Has the exhaustion of greed ever drug you down? the exhaustion of the angst that comes with knowing you are, essentially, greedy. i guess some of us more than others but this is hard one for me?being spoiled as a child and having attention from many directions during my formative years?ugh. hard to shake. hard to become modest. but! don't i need my confidence?can you have true modesty and true confidence at once? I guess I'll never know.

Knowing words. Leeking.

I think I am at relative peace right now, at this moment.

I have not been at relative peace since I last wrote of it...

go ahead and live your subserviant lives, all of you. it’s bad enough that you use a different vocabulary, act differently than you do anywhere else, laugh at stupid things which aren’t even funny, treat people with such flagrant disregard, it's no wonder you let them step all over you...

Jesum Cro, every time I want to write lately I’ve got people all over me! When I want someone around, no one is and now that I just want everyone to leave me the fuck alone, they’re all over me like flies…

I am starting to see this women working for men thing so differently…I mean, I never liked it, but it’s even more sickening the way women accept this role. It’s almost a joke to think that women have actually changed anything with all this liberation stuff. I hate to say this but it would seem that much of it is women’s fault. It only takes one bad apple, as they say, and that’s exactly what happens…so much of what women have been trying to change for so long is undone in one jump up to get coffee…One picking up the dishes off the table in the cafeteria, one standing around doing the dishes and jabbering about men.

Some sad things have happened to me since last I wrote. I don’t usually sit here and bla bla about my social life, but what has happened has really affected me and so I need to discuss it. Not only do I feel grumpy, but I feel sad.

There, I feel better.


“I swear I left her by the river; I swear I left her safe and sound
I need to make it to the river and leave this old Nebraska town…”


That’s kinda how I feel. I swear, I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear, I didn’t want this to happen, I swear, I jusst turned my head and i was crying…

I can feel empty. I’m sorry, I know I’m not, but I can feel empty. When you feel that you have hurt someone and yourself - and you just you could reach out and touch them, hug them…

“And I made myself so strong again, somehow…”

Am I building myself, or chipping away at it? Fundamental differences between the ways we view our growth. I think some people need chipping and some need building. If only each would see it. Usually the builders need a bit of chipping…And the chippers need to face the facts. Am i growing by adding to my foundation, or does my essence change? I guess we can never know. We just hope that as we go along we like who we see to our left in the mirror behind the tv. That girl who smiles at me through red eyes even though she is feeling pretty empty.

I trust that every blow will change me - whether it chips or builds.


"Try not to think about what might have been;
'cause that was then, and we have taken different roads
We can't go back again, There's no use givin' in-
and there's no way to know
what might have been..

That same old look in your eyes, it's a beautiful night
I'm so tempted to stay
We should should just say good night and turn and walk away"
-Little Texas

The other day....

you see, you can't bend down in your living room and pray. even the person you love most in tthe world might not accept it. in a church; a bulding proposed for the idea, it is acceptable...

You need inspiration. we should not be ashamed of this. to look into a man's eyes who says "Let your passion guide you..."

You'd better be careful with them passions of yours. things are spinning around, whirling along at godspeed - running circles in your head and you think everything is just hunky dory ! yeah you got a web site, what could possibly go wrong? this fixes everything doesn't it?

nostalgia for yesterday overcomes me.

December 11th, 1996.

My motto is, "there's always something to say" "always a reason to say it" and "always someone who wants to hear it. "

Of course, my other motto is "it's sometimes hard to find the right words", "they're don't always mean anything" and, "there's lots of people who don't want to hear it"

But, still, words are nice. Whether or not they actually convey a message, is up to each one who reads them. The words are not our slaves - they won't free us nor trap us - and they will not bring anything to us which we would not have otherwise found.

I think.

8:14 OFF TO MY FAVORITE PLACE in tarnation, the shower!!!
(read: sarcasm)
Why are we so sarcastic as a people? This is probably not one of our greatest qualities.

December 10th, 1996.

Independance day on video. Is There No Refuge? What's going to happen when the rubber band snaps?

December 9th.

The trees are peaceful, but would I get bored with them? Have we truly evolved to the point where we need these things/how can we dissect needing and upbringing? No, I don't claim to know all but I do know what I see.

and the burgeoning human
is ever so near
We can touch her-and feel her-
and hate her,
I fear.

December 8th, 1996.

What makes a good citizen? someone who knocks at the door? someone who praises the Lord? Someone who leaves the garbage out on time?

What's the use of reminiscing? All these memories, these thoughts which evoke so much emotion inside of me. what evolutionary process brought us here? How could something as complicated as emotions have evolved? Listening to a recording of a past Christmas, how should we have the right to do so? To listen to the past or see it, and relive those moments and feelings so clearly? It is so painful for me to look back to then, those days of eternities...that night when the snow fell so perfectly and we held hands ... never able to know what the future held. Singing my little heart out and breathing in every single second of life as if it were the last. I am so thankful for those years, those memories...but they are truly a sad legacy to the future.

Discovering Holst and other things.

Good evening, life. Greetings and Welcome!

I won't forget, I promise.
Goodnight, all. Goodnight.

December 7th 1996

A little closer now.
So. walking along the street just now i was reminded of an old friend's tactic for avoiding eye contact with passer-bys. I tried it, and it worked. I still use it from time to time, although it is against my instinct, and actually, against everything i stand for. What she did was stare straight ahead into the distance. Not focused on anything, her eyes were just fixated on something far far in front of her. Did I ask her how she did this? No. How do I know she did this? I don't even know, but obviously I was so shocked by anyone wanting to look like they were not looking at people that it has stuck in my head for so long. I don't even know why I remember who it was, but I do. Perhaps a reflextion, a grave one, on the way they live their lives. sounding judgemental aren't i? Let's just talk about "them" shall we? We're allowed to talk about "They say this" and "They say that" when it's positives, like "They say you shouldn't put qTips in your ears", so how come when I want to use "They in a derogatory manner everyone gets all excited?

So back to art.
I have been pondering what my art is since i last wrote of it; I don't really think it is writing, writing is just something i enjoy. I was thinking, since i can't pin down which medium is mine, perhaps they all are. Maybe my art is in the way i live my life. everything i do, everything i say. maybe that's why i've always been so frustrated whenever people tell me how to do things...or throw my old pillows away, or fix the hole in my old trench coat. maybe that's why. one of the new Garden Websites has a quote on the top , can't remember it word for word but the essence was that life should always be the process of showing the universe who you are. This really hit me, really coined a ideology for me. that's my art-showing the world who or what i am. akin to the voices in Dr. Seuss's "Hooville":
"We're here! we're here!" - - - the notion that every voice, no matter how small, or how seemingly insignificant, matters...makes a change, a difference. Get out your dictionaries, people! That is OUR language. Our evolving, changing, language. Everyone can have an effect on it, everyone.

December 6, 1996:

Genevieve Bergeron, 21
Helene Colgan, 23
Nathalie Croteau, 23
Barbara Daigneault, 22
anne-Marie Edward, 21
Maud Haviernick, 29
Maryse Laganiere, 25
Maryse Leclair, 23
Anne-Marie Lemay, 27
Sonia Pelletier, 28
Michele Richard, 21
Annie St-Arneault, 23
Annie Turcotte, 21
Barbara Klucznik Widajewicz 31

1965. 1989.
we define our life by outlining it in years.
What happened this year, that year, good years, bad years.

Seven years ago many things happened to me. Things which I had planned and worked at for many years. Things which I should remember for the rest of my life. Moments to mark my life by. But none of these events are what will truly mark 1989. What will mark 1989, for me? Something which never should have happened, that's what.

--- - - --- - - --- - - --- - - --- - - --- - - --- - - --- - - --- - - --- - - --- - - --- - - ---

driving in…thinking what? music no. cooking no. arts today. what were they discussinG? was it the massacre i wanted to discuss? i cannot bring myself to discuss that. what was it in 1965 ? that i heard on the radio today. what was i thinking this morning? wrote to B um what did i say? not much. i wonder what H is going to say…adfsl;jkjdfl;kasfjsdl;k i hope my message wasn’t to harsh as i tend to be.

I am nostalgic.
How nostalgic am I, you ask?
I am so nostalgic, that I get a warm-all-over feeling when I see people smoking in their cars.
Now that's nostalgic!

i tend to be harsh. now that i have ern around to point this out to me, i notice it of myself, and often. i am harsh. i guess some people misconstrue it as arrogance, but i think harsh is softer word. it’s not that i am being mena, i just speak the truth, what is really on my mind. i wouldn’t go so far as to say i am truth functional, but i do speak my mind mostly --- when i speak --- i am learning to keep my mouth closed whenever i can. listening to a crowd..

I think maybe I can have relative peace. and what did i write today?

time to write a bio:
Now you are going to think i am a cartoon fan, when really i am nothing of the sort. i must admit i enjoy *whimsy*, but the Poot explanation and the Sailor moon stuff are just a cooincidence, really. Poots are little creatures on “Rocko’s Modern Life”. Rocko is a wallaby, and one day he and his friend, Heffer, who is a cow (cooincidence again) to to the movies. One of the movies is showing a preview, and the preview is starring the Poots. the hero in the film is “Really Really Big Man”. He comes on the scene, and in his nasal, manly voice yells, “Little Poots! Little Poots!” and then goes about crushing them under his really really big feet.
(Guess you had to be there.)
Sailor Moon: I had never heard of Sailor Moon until August 17th of this year. Sailor Moon is a Japanese 'anime' (animation). more later.
Diary: I have been writing (paper) since the age of 11. That’s 20 years.
The MEP: Just a name. Needed one for the title section of the diary. It started out as “My Electronic Pen” but has since evolved into other names, as my mood changes and also the scope of the writing here.

Photos in my site:
1. the sunset: I took this myself this past summer in Nova Scotia, Canada.
It is the view I had while I walked along the ocean shore outside a friend’s house.
2. iaf: this is another photograph i took, of a ceramic mural in the Armand Frappier Institute. Created in 1968 by Atelier Claude Theberge. It represents the Creative Transformation of Microbiology. First, you start with the natural richness of nature, add technology, in particular microbiology, and examine nature and learn from it, to bring prosperity and well-being for humankind.

5. Ramona: Last but not least there’s Ramona. Ramona is a cow. She sits on my piano (but sometimes i find her sitting all over the place) and protects - well, she protects all things sheepish. She often sits with her body guards on either side of her ( a friend (?) tried to beat her up once…) but mostly enjoys sitting with her friend, Woodstock. Ramona represents many things. Being a cow, she represents beef and beefly suffering. She is also a confidant. And, she also loves to dance.

December 5th 1996.

Guess What?
i do not live in a vacuum.
i cannot interact with people without emotion.
i cannot create, write, nor evolve properly, with others around.

driving in this morning with an imaginary Bill, we carried on a discussion. when i driving alone, i am more confident, a better driver. When someone is with me-i lose it. The fact that someone else is there affects me, on an emotional level. I worry about what they will think of my driving and as a result, I can no longer drive well. This reminded me of gymnastics. I was an excellent gymnast, but as soon as I was expected to perform, poof! out the window went my confidence. I became stiff, shaky and weak. And then there's that first exam in microbiology. running in half way through the exam, sitting down without a thought and getting the highest mark in the class. so then my thoughts went on to life in general...

As long as there's no emotion involved, I excel. when i am alone, there is nothing for the emotions to bounce off of. am i my own sounding board? Or without one, are the thoughts somehow different? clearer? more pure? With myself, and myself alone, I can create, become, evolve, trace, define, sketch, and ...

i never realized this. i always knew i was emotional, but i didn't think it affected me quite this much. i actually used to think that my emotionality was my strong point; my guiding light; my forte. now i see that although at times it may be so, there are also times where it is impeding me, preventing me from doing things which i would otherwise do. funny how we learn so much once it is too late; again, bringing me back to the idea: What will I miss out on in the future because of what I don't yet know? I guess this is the ultimate question which we cannot answer, but knowing the question makes it somehow preventable. Yes, you're damn right i want to prevent it. Would I want to live my whole life if I knew what was coming? NO, certainly not, but who's going to deny that there are times when it would make your life a hellavalot easier.

i must read something to you:

life is often like a psychotic rollar coaster ride:
One day:
"UP- dinner party prospect of evening dinner party, friends, family, prospect of a new job-then, Boom! Down on my backside off a large wooden chair, bruised and scraped - Then off to work with a sense of accomplishment, then feeling UP! again - home to relax, then out to yummy dinner - and on the way buying wine - get refused the transaction and realize that I am completely broke - Argue a little back home - Then to dinner - wonderful bonding, feeling so much love for Ernie and very excited about nothing! Then, watch spectacular fireworks choreographed to music, and get goose bumps from the sheer beauty, Then home (finally) where the red light awaits us... 3 messages...One, an invitation to a Birthday Party, Two, confirmation of Debbie's visit this weekend, And Three... ... a small baby has died. -july 5, 1996."


Real love comes from without. You can't go looking for it because it is something that finds you. When it does, it looks you in the face and wraps its' arms around you. It hangs on while you thrash about. It gets sick, it gets thin. It heals and it ages. It grows with you. But True Love does find you. From the most vulnerable times to the grandest, it will seek you out and present itself in many different shapes and sizes. The only possible reason that you may never really have it, is that you may not be ready to accept it when it does. And if you can never be ready, then God bless you.

the shoes are still here but thanks God some of the dust has settled.

December 4, 1996.

the sun greeted me this morning. through the high misty clouds it peered at me from my rear view mirror. i enjoy looking at it this way as that way i can look back into the day to come.

The man that hath no music in himself,
Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils;
The motions of his spirit are dull as night
And his affections dark as Erebus:
Let no such man be trusted. Mark the music.
-William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice
Once, in january, I spent a week walking the streets of Paris. During that week the temperature hovered at -2 degrees celcius, and the sky remained overcast. As I walked around, looking, observing, alone, I could not have known, that a day would come when i could experience that week in my rear view mirror. When the temperature hovers around -2 degrees Celcius, I remember. I feel Paris in my bones. I smell the eiffel tower, I feel the smoke of a Marlboro cigarette.


Whatever it is that i think of those around me, it is I, and only I, to whom I must awake with in the morning and sleep with at night. It is my view I must seek to understand, or change, if I deem necessary.

why do shallow, selfish people have such an effect on me?

why do people who have goals which are completely and entirely based on things and events which have absolutely no consequence to life and it’s entirety, get me so frustrated and angry?

A while ago, berdj, friends and I used to have discussions about the plausibility of true altruism. let’s look up altruism just to be sure we all have the same definition:

Websters says: "unselfish regard for or devotion to the welfare of others."
Oxford adds: 1) "regard for others as a principle of action."
2) "unselfishness: concern for other people."
So our discussions were based on the question: Can humans ever, perform truly altruistic actions - or is everything we do inextricably rooted in self- gratification? berdj says he can do this. i cannot say this of myself... thinking of this person, this person who is so completely self-absorbed… but convinces others that he does good things… that he loves, that he touches, that he is just an 'ordinary' guy...i find it so frustrating that they cannot see through it. so frustrating. Why?

I didn’t really capture the weather this morning. No solace is to be had here.


gas in my gut and air in my brain
i struggle to cope with something in vain
the words seldom near
a yawn not a tear
and an uncomfortable chair; I’m in pain.

i stare at the floor
midst the rubble i see
eight objects, are footwear
belonging to me…

i shake and i squirm
I burst at the seams;
the remnants of living;
the leftover genes
they ask who i am
they knock at life’s door
they play with my essence
and scratch at the floor…

the dust which i carry around in my brain
like webs in the shadows and sand at the drain
clouds up in a storm when days are to fear;
and settles, like crystal, when vision is clear.

i look vaguely there
for the cobwebs to clear
i search for a word,
for a smile, or a tear;
the music still rocks
from the bubblegum box
i still can’t compete
with the shoes at my feet.


December 3, 1996.

my mood often changes like that of a dog. set off by minute little things. i have a hard time believing that it is more than these little life events controlling my entire life, really. each little emotion leads to the next, and the next never really adding up to anything which directs me toward what i really want. i guess some people can do this, have goals, long term goals, and not let the little emotions in between get in the way. I cannot.

God is it sickening how womyn are second class citizens.
sickening right to the root. It makes me more embarrassed to be female, than if i were male I think being on the losing end of things. I tried the argument on someone recently that womyn are in fact ruling the world I suppose a difficult concept for those who are on the really sad end of the losing stick to grasp, and rightly so.But I do believe this. As I said the other day, As soon as I learned that womyn’s issues are in fact, about all of us, that was the moment I realized that I too, am a feminist, because I believe that womyn’s issues are often the issues required to continue life on this planet. Womyn’s issues often address basic life needs which the world which men run has been neglecting. Men may rule the aspects of the world which they deem crucial, but if we continue to live in what we call a man’s world, we may all lose.
How can I pin this on someone without sounding like a feminist?

Yes, it’s embarrassing for me to lose. I don'’t do something unless I am good at it. For two reasons, 1) I get no satisfaction out of doing which I do poorly, and 2) If I try hard, I do well at everything I try. 

Dec.3 1996.
hello and good morning. remember the forests, the smell when they are wet. remember the sunlight shining through the canopy. remember the mushrooms on the fallen trees and the berries by the side of the road. remember the ferns who quickly grow into the green floor and the birds who chirp high above. remember the sound of your dog's bark echoing in the underbrush and the comfort of knowing that your father was not far behind you...
remember this.
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
looking as many do, inward for solace. Why inward? Because I like myself? Value my opinion? *sigh*
feeling a little nostalgic
about myself, about my brave new worlds. Do you have Brave new worlds? Worlds where you forge ahead without knowing quite what might come? Moments where adrenaline sweeps you into conversations you can hardly believe you're having? Days when waking up is a joy?
They're great, aren't they. but not as nostalgia...

I have the ability to look around me with more than one reality working. One minute, it's the same old kitchen, the same stuff lining the counter, the same feeling of non-feeling, really. Then, something triggers the other reality and the next thing I know, I'm in my very own kitchen, in my very own home, doing my very own life...a life which is mine, a life I have chosen. I often forget that i have chosen this life. It is important for me to remember that.
so yeah, nostalgia.

Not looking forward to the day when today will be nostalgia.

December 2, 1996
I am starting to understand, to finally have a peephole to what being Canadian means. Between art, musicians, dancers, and the CBC, I am slowly learning that I am not American. This, another of my late-onset life lessons. But I am not ashamed to admit it... and that's part of my Canadian heritage. What is a Canadian? I spoke to a girlfriend on the phone last night and she went to a wedding on Saturday. Outdoors. In Edmonton. Canadians paint our rugged terrain with pride, and with the hope of creating 'Art for a Nation'... Canadians dance, sing, they play the fiddle. Canadians need their sleep. Canadians learn what it means to be Canadian, from the CBC. What a fascinating revelation, for me.

I won't fight the notion that Canadians are not Americans, because there is nothing untrue about it. We are in fact, in the long shadow cast by America, we cannot deny this, but we are not the shadow itself. American candy is tempting no matter where you sit in the world; even the Japanese love McDonalds. The American dream teaches not to question it: and growing up watching American television, I am not surprised that I grew up thinking I was American.

Coining phrases like 'Gustnado', chuckling at it, and then saying it has a Bourgeois charm... I guess being Canadian also means you can laugh at yourself...
And i guess it's also a bit Canadian, to wish you had more friends who understood all of this. "Look Beyond" Canadian photographer capturing people living positively with Aids... Michelle Valberg fighting off the ridiculous and unanswerable questions of Bill Cameron... "How did you feel when your friend died?" Being Canadian can also be very frustrating.... 

December 1, 1996.

not only do you have to be confident, even when you think you're being arrogant, but you must understand, that if you never do anything, if you never take any chances, if you never go out on a limb and try something you have never tried before, then you will never know what you haven't learned. Even when you look back and you think 'hey, why did i do that?', you realize that you have learned something. It is such a strange concept to accept, that you must leave embarrassing traces behind, to know that you make a fool of yourself, again, and again, and again...
This may sound so very very obvious to you....

before you can see what is in the mirror; you must face it.

we are going to evolve together, you and i. we're not going to digress, re-iterate, re-write, nor rekindle. we will use it, we will examine it, learn from it, and grow as a result, but we will not live fairytales here, we are passed that. Past synchronicity and passed long digital poems. Things have happened since then, we have changed.
"propelled in time capsules, pushed by young people,
propelled in time capsules, pushed by the young"
"Clouds to cover, Brrr, I chill.
Cars to wander, brrrmm.. and still".

i am neither weak nor strong, i am alive.

i want neither all nor nothing; i want hope, with it, i have everything and nothing at once. English folklore deems it lucky to shout White Rabbits upon waking on the first day of the month. Being the first day of the last month of the year, this morning this event was particularly special. 

Back in time...