fix it

i walked toward the window
for -
i can't remember why
i walked toward the window.
like the space cadet
that i am
i dropped my sandwich

on the floor -
i looked down
at my eviscerated sandwich
and let out a quiet whine
'aww, i dropped it," and
the looked over to martin
and quickly blurted out,
"fix it!"

and, quickly, without
a word, he swooped down
behind me and collected
the sandwich guts
from the floor,
deftly assembled them
so that they look
as though freshly assembled
at the restaurant,
and handed it
back to me.

such is the dynamic
of our relationship.
"fix it."

snuggled

snuggling,
nestled,
into one another,
like 2 spoons
stacked neatly,
on their sides,
in the cutlery drawer.
only ...
we 2 -
NOT spoons,
lay nestled -
stacked on our sides -
in the twin bed.
yes - twin bed -
the only other bed
in the room.
i have not felt
this tired
in a very long time
i have not felt
so unfocussed,
so distracted,
so excited,
in a long time.
i need sleep.

the marriage skin

regarding marriage.
ahhhh, marriage.
love it ... hate it.
its quite the institution, though.
i suppose some view it
as a legal arrangement.
others, as a meal ticket.
and others still, as a ticket
to owning another.
but i see it more as
a type of skin that insulates one from
... solitude and other entities
that i cannot name at this time.

i use the word skin on purpose.
think of what your skin does.
basically,
it holds everything together -
insulates it from the elements.
provides a barrier.
and marriage becomes this
for married people.

- this is a thought i had in an email. it seemed good enough to share -

life's LOOP - end ... beginning

its OVER
whew!
finally
weeks
upon weeks
of separation
will come
to a grinding halt
in a matter of days!
the story -
the details of
how this all came to be -
that's not important
just ... that lonely separation
will end ...
and life together
on the west coast will begin
again!
i am not posting very often
coz i am working lots
and school sucks up the rest of my time
also ... having to walk down the hill
in the cold rain to get online
is sort of a disincentive.
and ... i have nothing
significant to say here.
i have no time to visit
others' blogs as i used to
so ... forgive me
and ... right or wrong ...
crazy or sane ....
i have felt there is sort of
a STEPFORD WIVES mentality
in this atmosphere of bloggers
i rale against it whenever i can
i know ... i know ...
it makes me very unpopular
i can draw the correlation
between comments and emails
and angry posts that appear
this blog
oh well ... your loss, not mine!
there is one blogger-person
who emails me as life permits
irregardless of what appears
in my blog ... that is a true
FRIEND - one who knows
all about me and still
chooses to reach out
and like me.

reflect on FRIEND -
what does that word
mean to you?

is it just some person
who says nice, patronizing
things whenever you behave
in the expected manner?

or ... ?

now ... onto my boring life
i am smoking PILES
of weed ...
i am learning about
programming structure
like ... logic statements
that form programmes
ie - IFTHENELSE statements,
DOWHILE statements
blah blah blah
the chapter on arrays -
a lengthy one with lots
of scary stuff in it -
looms in the foreground
i am counting my ass
off at some big stores
everyday -
i think i shall likely
work 12 or more hours
tomorrow -
starting at about 0800
and finishing at about
2100, maybe 2200
its a Winner's store tomorrow
and then 2 jean stores
and sunday ...
its linen's 'n things
a MF of a store!
and some clothing/jean store
in the evening
and then monday
i have to keep learning
and keep on working -
london drugs in the evenings
i smoked a joint - no, 2 - with my boss
on wednesday night
on the way home from
some far out place
HAHA.
what a blast.
well, as you see
my life is really boring
but quite productive
my material joy surrounds the fact
that i now have water-proof shoes
and enough weed to last me
thru the weekend
i have not done laundry in
about 3 weeks - no time
so i just keep buying a few more
pairs of undies, socks
and another white shirt
(work requires a white shirt
and black pants .... yeah, lets
all try to keep a white shirt
white for longer than 5 minutes!)
i know ... its cheaper to just wash
clothes ... well, time
does not allow me.
pathetic, huh?
i like my job
i do not have to fight
anxiety attacks to get out the door
to work
i look forward to going to work
even if its ungodly early.
i received the registered letter
informing me
that my name no longer appears
on the register of nurses,
since i have let my license
lapse.

nd END.
and .... also a BEGINNING.
life is like a loop.
a series of progressions
that loop back onto themselves
as long as the required conditions
hold true.

i need bifocals
and some dental work
and i need a gram or two
of cocaine
so i can pull off
a succession of all-niters
very soon - catch up on life
without sleep requirements
getting in the way.

happy bunny ROXS

photo choppies

the secret to a good photo choppy?
it all starts with the fotografs -
one can never make a silk purse
from a sow's ear.
the imagination and the eye?
well you just either got it ...
or you don't.
that ain't somethin'
you can learn.
these photo choppies made with GIMP

where do seagulls sleep?

i mean ... really?
i don't see them anywhere,
when i am out smoking my spliff
in cathedral park at 2 am
they do not appear in the trees,
perched on the light posts,
or on top of tall buildings.
for that matter -
i never see birds at night.
where do they go?
i do not see them in the trees,
either.
hmmm ....

perhaps some secret portal
to the supernatural world
exists - thru which birds
have special access -
you know, they carry souls
to their (souls') next destinations?
yes ... of course they do -
why else do you think
such a superstition exists -
that seeing a bird
in one's own house
means someone in that household
or known to that household
will DIE.

can spiders land on their feet?
i don't suppose they can.
just a thought that popped into
my head at random

i have no internet connection
in my present abode
that means i hafta go to
the 24-hour wireless internet cafe
two blox down

i write these blogs
to stay sane
stephen king once said
that if he didn't write
all that twisted shit
he may well be a twisted
criminal or deviant.
the concept applies to me -
if i write the stuff here
then it does not
get in the way of living
ie - the very act of expressing
a passing self-nihilistic thought
(ie i want to dematerialize/die)
sheds the notion that i would ever
actually contemplate such actions

i slept 4 hours last nite
i told myself that
i really must sleep more than this
when, after flushing the toilet and
preparing to leave the bathroom stall,
i stopped to look for my umbrella!
(WHY WOULD I NEED AN UMBRELLA IN THE TOILET?)
ha ha ha ha ha

i dreamed about programming control structures -
patterns of logic used in program design
yes - i dreamed about IFTHENELSE,
i dreamed about SIMPLE SEQUENCE,
i dreamed alot about DOWHILE.
i really need to get a life.

its starting to happen.
its been at least 9 weeks
since i had any kind of (not self induced)
orgasm
suddenly - i find myself rating
every man i see!
ha ha ha ...
like - on the skytrain -
i silently rate them all,
in my head -
oooh, yeah, he looks like a 6 -
he's clean, has some style, has manners,
doesn't look like a SQUARE and
THE KICKER - clean hands and finger nails!
no one that isn't already martin
(or a very close facsimile -
as far as i know,
only 2 of those exist
in the world -
neither of them on this continent)
gets anything higher than a 6.

i don't so much miss
the actual vulgar, messy part of sex
just ... miss having male attention
lavished upon me
and miss the conversation

i like my job
like that conditions provided
enable me to succeed,
assuming i apply myself
like that progress and excellence
get recognized and rewarded
like that the private sector
does not seem to be where
dogfuckers (sorry k9 ... just an expression)
hang out.

we had a saying,
when i worked
in the public sector -
SHIT FLOATS TO THE TOP
so true

tomorrow i start 5-in-a-row
2 la senza stores -
(yuck - lingerie ...
how many bras and panties
do you think
are in those bins???) and
3 london drug stores -
yes ...
every single fucking thing
gets counted
everything.
counting cereal and toilet paper
is my favourite - big bulky things
stacked neatly - :^))
counting a discount bin
of 2 or 3 hundred of anything
is not my favourite thing,
particularly when each item
must get scanned, individually!

argh - time to smoke something
or ... snort something
hee hee)
*insert evil laughter here*