you know what i hate? stale crackers.
They completely lack the crunch of freshness, of life, of yummy-ness. Stale crackers are soft, chewy, and grain that isn't suppose to taste like bread. There's nothing as disappointing as opening up the cracker box to find instead of the crunch this wimpyness of a cracker.
*sigh*
now i don't know what to munch on.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Friday, June 26, 2009
writers
I just finished chapter 1 of my story. I know that it's only a chapter in what is suppose to be a manuscript ideally, but I'm still a bit proud of myself.
It's seems that lately everyone is writing (alright not everyone, but some close friends). It's wicked. Even though some of the people that are writing aren't in the same city or even the same country there's still that community and that environment where creative is thriving. We're emailing back and forth, we commenting on each other's work, it's awesome. There's a person here too though in the city who I bounce ideas off of and write with, and I love it. It almost makes the stories come easier when you have those people to talk your story over with, or who can just keep you company while you write.
I can understand why artists and writers etc kind of group together almost, seek each other out. In my opinion it keeps the creativity thriving. It gives me at least the umph I need sometimes to keep going.
I realize that I might be prematurely excited about my story, but that's ok. I'm going to be excited anyway.
Chapter 2 here I come.
It's seems that lately everyone is writing (alright not everyone, but some close friends). It's wicked. Even though some of the people that are writing aren't in the same city or even the same country there's still that community and that environment where creative is thriving. We're emailing back and forth, we commenting on each other's work, it's awesome. There's a person here too though in the city who I bounce ideas off of and write with, and I love it. It almost makes the stories come easier when you have those people to talk your story over with, or who can just keep you company while you write.
I can understand why artists and writers etc kind of group together almost, seek each other out. In my opinion it keeps the creativity thriving. It gives me at least the umph I need sometimes to keep going.
I realize that I might be prematurely excited about my story, but that's ok. I'm going to be excited anyway.
Chapter 2 here I come.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
remember, remember the 5th of november
so i just finished watching v for vendetta. I think my favourite part is when all of the people walk towards the barriers and everyone is wearing Guy Fawkes masks and capes. It's such a powerful image - all those people, who despite their fear - are there demanding change.
But it makes me wonder:
what are we fighting for?
what am i fighting for?
is there anything left to fight for?
is there a reason why everyone seems to have stopped demanding change?
is there a reason why everyone seems to have stopped demanding better?
But it makes me wonder:
what are we fighting for?
what am i fighting for?
is there anything left to fight for?
is there a reason why everyone seems to have stopped demanding change?
is there a reason why everyone seems to have stopped demanding better?
four and a half
I realize that i haven't posted in a few days, and it's mostly because when I am sitting at the computer writing, i'm writing in Word, and i'm writing my story. I only have 4 and a half pages but I like what I do have. I'm really not sure how certain pieces are going to fit together, but so far, the piece of the story that I'm currently working on is coming together pretty decently I think.
I've been trying to write this story since about the eleventh grade, and it's funny because writing it again now - the story has changed, and my characters have morphed into something completely different. I think that it's really cool. I don't really know what they're going to do next. It's a slightly surreal experience.
All I know is that this time, this time, I'm going to keep writing it.
I've been trying to write this story since about the eleventh grade, and it's funny because writing it again now - the story has changed, and my characters have morphed into something completely different. I think that it's really cool. I don't really know what they're going to do next. It's a slightly surreal experience.
All I know is that this time, this time, I'm going to keep writing it.
Friday, June 19, 2009
thought to share
I love it when characters take on characteristics and qualities that you would never have expected them to take.
I love it when they start to breathe and all you've left to do is try and keep up with them.
I love it when they start to breathe and all you've left to do is try and keep up with them.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
as i walked out one evening
I went walking in the rain today. It was a misty rain though - the kind where you look slightly like a noob if you use an umbrella because there's not enough rain for one but enough to get you damp and leave your hair frizzy.
It was fantastic. I loved it. I love walking in the rain.
I then came home and - read poetry. I know eh. It seems very stereotypical. However, it was very enjoyable.
I was reading T.S. Elliot's The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, which I think is such a wicked poem. And then I pulled out W.H. Auden. He's a pretty sweet poet too. The thing that is slightly frustrating about his poems (and the same with Emily Dickinson) is that they don't have titles. So the poem by him that I am completely enamored with is simply called 38 in my book, which is really no help at all for you in finding it to read. So here's the link:
http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15551
Check it out.
I'm serious. Go read it. Right. Now.
It was fantastic. I loved it. I love walking in the rain.
I then came home and - read poetry. I know eh. It seems very stereotypical. However, it was very enjoyable.
I was reading T.S. Elliot's The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, which I think is such a wicked poem. And then I pulled out W.H. Auden. He's a pretty sweet poet too. The thing that is slightly frustrating about his poems (and the same with Emily Dickinson) is that they don't have titles. So the poem by him that I am completely enamored with is simply called 38 in my book, which is really no help at all for you in finding it to read. So here's the link:
http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15551
Check it out.
I'm serious. Go read it. Right. Now.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
oh me oh my
I can't believe how much time I spend being anxious. It's not healthy. I'm anxious all the damn time. There are very few times where i am completely relaxed and very few people that I completely relax with.
Did you know that?
I've discovered i can hide things well.
Today though the anxiety is starting to get to me. I'm worried about finding a job and money and next year and eating properly and budgeting and my family, my social life, my inability to finish what i start, waking up early enough tomorrow morning, drivers ed, and if I keep continuing I'm sure that you'll find out that I'm worried about global warming, poverty and the 50 other bajillion things that are going on in the world.
Why am I so anxious all the time?
I mean for the most part i can keep it under control - and this right now is actually just about under control - me flipping out is seriously not something that ANYONE sees. I flip out in the privacy of my own room - or the bathroom.
But seriously, why the f can't i just chill like every other bloody person in the world.
Don't comment on this post. This is seriously a holler into the dark. DO NOT COMMENT.
Did you know that?
I've discovered i can hide things well.
Today though the anxiety is starting to get to me. I'm worried about finding a job and money and next year and eating properly and budgeting and my family, my social life, my inability to finish what i start, waking up early enough tomorrow morning, drivers ed, and if I keep continuing I'm sure that you'll find out that I'm worried about global warming, poverty and the 50 other bajillion things that are going on in the world.
Why am I so anxious all the time?
I mean for the most part i can keep it under control - and this right now is actually just about under control - me flipping out is seriously not something that ANYONE sees. I flip out in the privacy of my own room - or the bathroom.
But seriously, why the f can't i just chill like every other bloody person in the world.
Don't comment on this post. This is seriously a holler into the dark. DO NOT COMMENT.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
can you keep a secret?
are we human because we can keep secrets? Is that one of the characteristics that defines humanity?
Everybody has secrets and everybody lives in fear of certain people or people in general finding out certain secrets. and then there are other secrets that we long for people to know, but don't have the nerve to save out loud.
What would humanity be like if we didn't have secrets? If we were physically not able to have secrets? Would we lose part of our humanity? Would society become a dull place?
Our lives are based around secrets - secrets that we keep for others, secrets that we have about ourselves that we keep from the world, and sometimes even from ourselves.
But why?
Why are secrets so necessary to our existence?
Everybody has secrets and everybody lives in fear of certain people or people in general finding out certain secrets. and then there are other secrets that we long for people to know, but don't have the nerve to save out loud.
What would humanity be like if we didn't have secrets? If we were physically not able to have secrets? Would we lose part of our humanity? Would society become a dull place?
Our lives are based around secrets - secrets that we keep for others, secrets that we have about ourselves that we keep from the world, and sometimes even from ourselves.
But why?
Why are secrets so necessary to our existence?
peace within
Today I had to go downtown to the post office and since I was so far downtown I decided to make my walk worthwhile, so I brought my laptop with me (which is seriously heavy to carry that far in the heat i might add) and went to the Goat where I sat down for about an hour or so and wrote some more about my character Abby. She's pretty sweet I have to say.
This blog isn't about her though, this blog is about St. Mary's Cathedral. On the way back home I walked up Johnson which of course leads me right by St. Mary's. Anyway, all the doors were open, so, obviously, I went inside.
I walked up the steps and kind of cautiously walked in. My footsteps echoed, so I walked as softly as I possible could. There was no one around. It's beautiful inside. Candles lit for different prayers offered, stunning stained glass windows, beautiful arches. I walked around the back of the cathedral and I felt like I was an intruder - as if it were like the 1500s and I was a poor wench who wasn't suppose to be there. For some reason I was afraid of running into someone. After a few moments, I let myself relax and take in the quiet. Then I went down and sat in a pew.
What I said to God there doesn't really matter for this post, but after a few moments, with me freezing ever time I heard a noise, a woman came in. She was an ordinary woman. She walked up a different isle than I was sitting, did a kneel thing before she sat down and then kneeled in the pew on the little thing they have for you there (can you tell I'm not Catholic) and she began to pray.
Cars rattled on down the street outside, another man came in from a different part of the church who worked there, but this silence, this peace penetrated the sanctuary and it remained untouched. You almost fell into it sitting there.
Protestants aren't generally to big on the whole cathedral thing I've noticed, but I almost think that they're necessary. That it's a good thing they exist somewhere because they remind us - or at least remind me, how big God is, how powerful, and how awe inspiring. Sometimes I think that we - or at least I - need to be reminded of that.
This blog isn't about her though, this blog is about St. Mary's Cathedral. On the way back home I walked up Johnson which of course leads me right by St. Mary's. Anyway, all the doors were open, so, obviously, I went inside.
I walked up the steps and kind of cautiously walked in. My footsteps echoed, so I walked as softly as I possible could. There was no one around. It's beautiful inside. Candles lit for different prayers offered, stunning stained glass windows, beautiful arches. I walked around the back of the cathedral and I felt like I was an intruder - as if it were like the 1500s and I was a poor wench who wasn't suppose to be there. For some reason I was afraid of running into someone. After a few moments, I let myself relax and take in the quiet. Then I went down and sat in a pew.
What I said to God there doesn't really matter for this post, but after a few moments, with me freezing ever time I heard a noise, a woman came in. She was an ordinary woman. She walked up a different isle than I was sitting, did a kneel thing before she sat down and then kneeled in the pew on the little thing they have for you there (can you tell I'm not Catholic) and she began to pray.
Cars rattled on down the street outside, another man came in from a different part of the church who worked there, but this silence, this peace penetrated the sanctuary and it remained untouched. You almost fell into it sitting there.
Protestants aren't generally to big on the whole cathedral thing I've noticed, but I almost think that they're necessary. That it's a good thing they exist somewhere because they remind us - or at least remind me, how big God is, how powerful, and how awe inspiring. Sometimes I think that we - or at least I - need to be reminded of that.
Monday, June 15, 2009
breathing characters
you know that feeling when you have a character dancing around in your head demanding your attention?
I've def got that going on right now.
I have to get her sorted out though. I don't know her very well at the moment. I need to be introduced as it were and then sit still long enough for her to tell me her story.
I've def got that going on right now.
I have to get her sorted out though. I don't know her very well at the moment. I need to be introduced as it were and then sit still long enough for her to tell me her story.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
community
I am feeling very disconnected.
It has hit me, ever since I moved, that the past 4 years have certainly ended, and my community has scattered across cities and in some cases provinces, and in other cases countries. Email is great and so is facebook and everything, but let's face it, it's not the same. In the day to day routine of hanging out, and chatting to people my community has gone MIA. The family that I chose for myself has gone MIA.
This is not a pity me moment. It's just me kind of softly saying "oh," as the realization hits me again.
The solution is of course to keep in touch via email and everything, but also create a new community that is here in Kingston who I can hang out with and chat with face to face. I know this.
I have to admit though that I'm not finding it that easy at the moment to do this. And I think that's just because I have no social life at the present time. It'll become easier to create a new community when I go to church again, and go to home church, and get a job, and even further down the line, when classes start etc etc. But right now in this moment, I'm feeling like it's just me.
It has hit me, ever since I moved, that the past 4 years have certainly ended, and my community has scattered across cities and in some cases provinces, and in other cases countries. Email is great and so is facebook and everything, but let's face it, it's not the same. In the day to day routine of hanging out, and chatting to people my community has gone MIA. The family that I chose for myself has gone MIA.
This is not a pity me moment. It's just me kind of softly saying "oh," as the realization hits me again.
The solution is of course to keep in touch via email and everything, but also create a new community that is here in Kingston who I can hang out with and chat with face to face. I know this.
I have to admit though that I'm not finding it that easy at the moment to do this. And I think that's just because I have no social life at the present time. It'll become easier to create a new community when I go to church again, and go to home church, and get a job, and even further down the line, when classes start etc etc. But right now in this moment, I'm feeling like it's just me.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
what do stars do best
I just finished watching Stardust, and I don't really know why but I really love that movie. Maybe it's because stars fall from the sky and are people, because nobles bleed blue blood, where pirates capture lightening and sell it on the black market and where it is possible to give your heart to someone else and take theirs in exchange.
Is that how real love works? Two people exchanging hearts? Is that what a soul mate is? And I mean how do you know that THE ONE is THE ONE? Is it one of those things that you just know when you stumble across it? Or is there even such a thing as the one?
Do you think that there is one person for everyone in the world? and if not why is that? Why are some people sentenced to live without someone and others to have more than one?
Is it possible to fall madly in love with 2 different people during 2 different times and have both of those people mean the world to you?
I feel like Prince Henry from Ever After when he's questioning Da Vinci about love. How is it possible to be so befuddled by something that is suppose to just happen to you? Why is love easy and hard at the same time?
It's sad to think that love as powerful as it is has become such a cliche in works of art and in society at large. People love the idea of falling in love with someone. We watch it in movies and we sigh and awww at all the right parts and we cheer when the two people are able to over come the odds and make it together. But as soon as that situation is found in reality it becomes a cliche. People tear it down. Mock it. Say it'll never happen or never work and instead of going for love to go for something more practical - like money or social position.
Are we all hypocrites?
And how did the most powerful force found on this planet become a cliche? When did people stop embracing it, or maybe I'm being cynical and they haven't?
Am I cliched for writing about it?
And am I cliched for saying that despite everything I think that it would be wonderful and terrible all at the same time to fall in love?
Is that how real love works? Two people exchanging hearts? Is that what a soul mate is? And I mean how do you know that THE ONE is THE ONE? Is it one of those things that you just know when you stumble across it? Or is there even such a thing as the one?
Do you think that there is one person for everyone in the world? and if not why is that? Why are some people sentenced to live without someone and others to have more than one?
Is it possible to fall madly in love with 2 different people during 2 different times and have both of those people mean the world to you?
I feel like Prince Henry from Ever After when he's questioning Da Vinci about love. How is it possible to be so befuddled by something that is suppose to just happen to you? Why is love easy and hard at the same time?
It's sad to think that love as powerful as it is has become such a cliche in works of art and in society at large. People love the idea of falling in love with someone. We watch it in movies and we sigh and awww at all the right parts and we cheer when the two people are able to over come the odds and make it together. But as soon as that situation is found in reality it becomes a cliche. People tear it down. Mock it. Say it'll never happen or never work and instead of going for love to go for something more practical - like money or social position.
Are we all hypocrites?
And how did the most powerful force found on this planet become a cliche? When did people stop embracing it, or maybe I'm being cynical and they haven't?
Am I cliched for writing about it?
And am I cliched for saying that despite everything I think that it would be wonderful and terrible all at the same time to fall in love?
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
night time thoughts
When does the place that you live in begin to feel like home? Does it happen after you unlock the door a certain number of times? Or when it becomes familiar? When you hide yourself from the world in it? When some kind of crazy story or unforgettable moment happens in it? When you learn your postal code?
When does the place that you live take on more than just the place where you sleep every night, that you have to clean and where you lug your groceries too?
This is one of the things that I'm wondering about tonight.
The other thing that I'm wondering about tonight is tattoos. I've stumbled across the thought again tonight that tattoos are simply stories. Personal stories usually. And also usually stories that only the bearer of them usually understands. This is interesting because most people when they tell stories want people to understand them - it almost seems like people with tattoos are announcing that they have a story that you the random bystander do not understand. I think that's really cool. I think that it's cool that there are secret stories in the world. It reminds us of how much we don't know about a person, or people in general. And that there's always something more to someone.
When does the place that you live take on more than just the place where you sleep every night, that you have to clean and where you lug your groceries too?
This is one of the things that I'm wondering about tonight.
The other thing that I'm wondering about tonight is tattoos. I've stumbled across the thought again tonight that tattoos are simply stories. Personal stories usually. And also usually stories that only the bearer of them usually understands. This is interesting because most people when they tell stories want people to understand them - it almost seems like people with tattoos are announcing that they have a story that you the random bystander do not understand. I think that's really cool. I think that it's cool that there are secret stories in the world. It reminds us of how much we don't know about a person, or people in general. And that there's always something more to someone.
Monday, June 8, 2009
listening
Right now I am sitting on my new and much larger bed listening to the torrents of rain fall. I love the sound of rain. I love it when thunderstorms wake me up at night, and when I wake up to the sound of rain in the morning while I still get to be curled up in bed. I love dancing in the rain. I love watching it fall, the trees glistening with its shower, as people live behind their umbrellas as they scurry up the street.
The world looks different in the rain I find. It kind of teems with possibilities and potential.
I have to admit though - I don't like having to sit with wet feet. That's really my only qualms with the rain.
There's so much I could say about my new apt. and all of the things that I have to do tomorrow and people that I have to meet, and my massive to-do list, but I'm not going to.
I'm going to go and listen to the rain.
The world looks different in the rain I find. It kind of teems with possibilities and potential.
I have to admit though - I don't like having to sit with wet feet. That's really my only qualms with the rain.
There's so much I could say about my new apt. and all of the things that I have to do tomorrow and people that I have to meet, and my massive to-do list, but I'm not going to.
I'm going to go and listen to the rain.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Unable
Once upon a time there was a heroine who was unable to sleep. She would lie down in her small room at night and close her eyes, but sleep eluded her. She counted sheep. Drank warm milk. Ran miles before bedtime. But nothing worked.
After lying still with her eyes closed for some time, she would eventually sigh and open her eyes again, and gaze around her darkened room. She was amused at how everything looked different in the dark, and yet it was all the same. For nothing in it had changed.
When there was a moon, it kept her company by shinning in gently through her window. The heroine and the moon became great friends and the heroine missed the moon deeply when, as it sometimes happens, the moon disappeared from the sky for a night.
During her long conversations with the moon and sometimes the stars (though they take forever to reply) the heroine was told that there was nothing missed by the fact that she could not sleep. They told her that sleep was overrated, and yet the heroine would look at the morning faces of people and she realized that being unable to sleep, caused something terrible to happen inside of her. For by being unable to sleep she was thus unable to dream.
After lying still with her eyes closed for some time, she would eventually sigh and open her eyes again, and gaze around her darkened room. She was amused at how everything looked different in the dark, and yet it was all the same. For nothing in it had changed.
When there was a moon, it kept her company by shinning in gently through her window. The heroine and the moon became great friends and the heroine missed the moon deeply when, as it sometimes happens, the moon disappeared from the sky for a night.
During her long conversations with the moon and sometimes the stars (though they take forever to reply) the heroine was told that there was nothing missed by the fact that she could not sleep. They told her that sleep was overrated, and yet the heroine would look at the morning faces of people and she realized that being unable to sleep, caused something terrible to happen inside of her. For by being unable to sleep she was thus unable to dream.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
home again home again jiggity jog
Well being back in Toronto is strange I will admit - it's like leaving a place exactly as you left it. However, it is nice to be home. Sleeping in a familiar bed, and being able to wake up when you want to.
Today was an errand kind of day which involved, helping my brother buy a shirt for prom, going to the doctors, grocery shopping, and making a mad dash through ikea because we thought the store closed at 10 but it doesn't it closes at 9. Needless to say, we have to go back.
I uploaded the pictures from the trip today and I only have 160-ish more to name. Also the hockey game is tied at 2. I want the pengs to take it.
I also went to my Babcie and Dziadziu (polish for grandmother and grandfather)'s house and had an omlette for lunch. No one makes omlettes like my Dziadziu. It was amazing.
Today was an errand kind of day which involved, helping my brother buy a shirt for prom, going to the doctors, grocery shopping, and making a mad dash through ikea because we thought the store closed at 10 but it doesn't it closes at 9. Needless to say, we have to go back.
I uploaded the pictures from the trip today and I only have 160-ish more to name. Also the hockey game is tied at 2. I want the pengs to take it.
I also went to my Babcie and Dziadziu (polish for grandmother and grandfather)'s house and had an omlette for lunch. No one makes omlettes like my Dziadziu. It was amazing.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Aloha Hawaii
Today is my last day in Hawaii. I fly out tonight on an 11:05 pm flight and then I fly to Vancouver and then from there to Toronto. The trip is basically over.
It's been hilarious times I must say. My nana has had many good one liners that I now have no doubt where I get my dirty mind from or the quick retorts.
So quick update:
I'm burnt
I can't believe Detroit is beating the peguins 2-0 in the series.
I want Chinese food from Sherway gardens (a mall by my parents house).
I just bought the book Sex God by rob bell and I like it so far. It's really interesting.
Nick and I might be on the same flight from vancouver to toronto tomorrow.
I'm watching someone light torches around the pool and hotel area. I'm going to go enjoy Hawaii for another couple of hrs.
It's been hilarious times I must say. My nana has had many good one liners that I now have no doubt where I get my dirty mind from or the quick retorts.
So quick update:
I'm burnt
I can't believe Detroit is beating the peguins 2-0 in the series.
I want Chinese food from Sherway gardens (a mall by my parents house).
I just bought the book Sex God by rob bell and I like it so far. It's really interesting.
Nick and I might be on the same flight from vancouver to toronto tomorrow.
I'm watching someone light torches around the pool and hotel area. I'm going to go enjoy Hawaii for another couple of hrs.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
