Try to buy a bike.
Check the deck of cards.
Just kissed the sun
But missed the lights
Waiting now, electric mix.

Saw this guy with a starved dog.
Dog starvers are the worst.

Black and red.
These are the colours of my love for you.
Green and blue.
The stream of babbling youth.
One time here,
Is two times there.
For memories are a painful port.
For once you dock, anchor lain.
Though shores seem lighter,
And whores are fairer.
The jokes maim, already those in pain.

You self assure.
Times of no pressure.
When stores were full
A larder was harder to empty, than fill.
And time aplenty.
A time of plenty-
Fruitfully, choice was will!

Here my cockes, sobbing through.
Hear my soul, six levels of white and grey
Remember tomorrow, all the rue, rue.
Rail against, the time that grew.
Risk the rush and running dismay.
Toil to dust, and wrinkle and ash.
Try testing, fortune bound you will clash.

Cats eye bead black.
Surrounded by yellow.
Jaws bite become’s slack.
Befuddled in the shallow.

And slash.
Gnash and bite.
Fright and cut.
Tooth and nail.
Claw and red.
Red as blood.
True as soup.
Bitter as bile.
And nature sits.
Waits for awhile.
Yellow eyed things-
Twisted and vile.

VERGETARIAN: “I don’t have enough money to buy meat, and the meat I could afford I don’t buy because I value the life of animals above that of the monetary value attributed to the cost”. I’m on the edge of becoming a vegetarian.
But I don’t want to be limited.
I feel like I shouldn’t fuss.
I don’t like the taste of most meats.
I question our methods and morals.
The greater ethical code of killing beasts as if they were made for man makes me malinger and gag.
The hellish drag of taking, without giving back.
I feel that this path has spiraled off-track.
And now that we’ve come this far, I want to turn back.
Is it my fault? Can action take clause.
Can I be the one to find us new shores?

Today I will take some energy from the universe and store it inside myself.
I will run to 380.
Purchase coffee and postcards, maybe stamps too.
Then to the gym.
Upper body today.
la-dee-da-dee-dar.

Last night I was rendered morose because of the brilliance of others.
How are we supposed to compete or be seen to possess value?
Its tough stuff.

I have some pieces that need to be worked upon.
Need an inspired thoughfulness.

But I can’t put and “I” to the characters, a young and old woman.
My inflection, thoughts and reflection are shallow.
I am in darkness unlike what I believe they feel.
Maybe If I could adjust my mind to be just right, indeed;
quite so that of a woman.
To pretend. To coax myself into fully believing, to acting and falsifying to myself.
I don’t believe in what i’m doing. Thus I cannot actualize.
the ‘z’ in words kills me. Wise man. simple.

I wish I felt better.
Why must I be stuck in this middling.
Waiting for a precise moment.
Last night I snotted. The covered laughter out the nose with a cold.
It was horrible.
I sat in silence with all the things I wanted to say.
I laughed at myself and others and how they were in touch with the plant.
The world that they were a part of.
God of. Creation.
I watched each of my housemates faces in silent glee, each as they prepared and indulged in food.
The expressionlessness. A raised eyebrow. The spoon used for Jam.
It was all so bizarre.

I’ve lost some of my shine.
Time for a change I feel.
Somehow I’ve already lost
Chemistry is nothing but the melody.
The universe is the symphony.
What is then, the mind of god.
Harmony.
Vibration, movement and change.
Noise for survival.
Where everyone fits.

2nd hand books ahoy.

Kant. Can’t. cannot.
But I shall!

freeze-
WE ARE ALL THE SAME.
put your breakdown down.
Put it on ice.
Like it, and ingest it.
But slowly.
Fore we all get brain freezes.

If you were in a rush, then you should have caught the bus.
I’m sorry but i’m walking. Its not a big detour.
I don’t like your tone.
I don’t feel well.
This is a drag. I feel the drag.
ugh my back.
The cafe today was nice. Walking walking walking.
Did some shopping. That worked.
All was fine.
Drank a lot of water now.
lots of sunshine.
Bed early tonight I think.
Walking with Claudia wasn’t that pleasant, what a boring subject I brought up.
How far did I run? And in what time?
She’s a smart girl.
Bike shopping was not a success.
I’m still run-down.
In time; I will prevail above this sickness.
Might just sit in and study.
Good lad.

So i’m still getting my bearings of campus, right.
Walking to my english class, I accidentally went to philosophy instead (completely wrong room).
I barge into the classroom and immediatly realise my mistake.
So i’m there, kinda awkwardly thinking how to fix this interruption.
I look around the room. Cool as, I ask:
“Why am I here?” And promptly leave.
Halfway down the hall I hear clapping and can only imagine it was from their classroom registering what was basically the philosophy version of a driveby.

I call it “dropin method” classroom teaching.

I am the poor.
Paurve. Impoverished. Sickly and invalid.
I am man.
What I do has no cause or effect.
Only what I attribute value has value.
To go beyond is to invite darkness.
Wishing from within to comprehend.
I came here to write but one thing-
but I, I forgot. I’ve come to the conclusion.
Memory is fickle, foresight is tragic.
In the moment is where beauty lies.
And this is what I call magic.
So here is.
Here be.
So resides.
A story in full.

View.

Introducing himself.
Introduced herself.
They individually identified, and touched.
Confirming their reality.

A true moment did occur between them.
The chemistry and registry of the universe fed back to them and itself.
Sight to hearing and finally touch.
There is the moment relayed.
Beautiful action.

Where did it all go?
Where did it all fucking go?
How have I made it to this, to this now.
Today, not tomorrow or yesterday. Today.
Now. But now is mucus, now is cold-sweats.
Headache, shivering, sliding uncomfort.
Squirm and sniffle. Ears blocked, eyes bleary.
Blindly, clouded mind in a new city.
Lost and all is forgotten. So easy to look to tomorrow.
But nay. No! Look to today.
Do not fret, from past to future; to and fro.
Fear not your strife, suffer not my woe.
For today, is grim and great.
Sordid and lavish. Oh boy,
This time now, for all to enjoy.
Self-Schadenfreude.

A see-through paper bag.
“Like a plastic bag”
No Jan a glass bag.

Man-Maid Beach
Now I know what eyes can touch.
Beauty flickers, afarway crutch.
Bronze and slick and sleeping still.
Vagabond vice, reaping ill.

Sight a sense for feel and need.
My eyes b’gouged, freely decreed.

You don’t eat meat but we’re packed in like sardines.
Do you think you’d eat human flesh?
It’s bad to eat your own genus, race, type, species.
(isn’t that what lead to mad cow disease)
“Pree-on” disease. I knew it.

Mooney’s Bay Park.

Major Motivation is all people is self satisfaction.
Your life’s accumulation of experience leads up and into your own self.
What you believe to be good and proper and normal.
Over time you solidify. Become choosy. Decide what is best for you.
These choices are informed off of other information.
Sickness, health and a complicated value structure.
As we grow up, we become harder. More real.
But like glass. Sand, fired to extreme temperatures,
our beauty lasts just as long.
Despite our type, mold or colour.
Glass is made to be broken.
We grow brittle once be solidify.
Enjoy yourself, be unique and shapely.
Pane or glob.

I feel ill. So sick. Tired. Achy. I’m in a bad bad way.
I have some sort of cut on my foot that has got infected and my leg hurts.
Yesterday at the beach I got too much sun.
I’m all fucked up.
I will spend today in bed, do washing tomorrow, and if i’m not better.
Then i’ll have to go to the doctor. Frustrating times.

Law, how do you think I came across tonight?
What was the impression that I gave?
“I don’t know”…
O.K.
“I’d say, always, just as your… (how do you say in english), your… yeah I dunno.
Acting according to your personality”.
“more something like true, not trying to say what you are, acting accordingly”
“Etre fidele a soi meme”. I am true to myself.
Do you think anyone was bothered?
“maybe Manuell, because she positioned herself away from others”
“I don’t think you hurt anyone’s feelings”
To me it was fine, it was good.
“for people who enjoy sharing their thoughts, i’m not well placed to answer correctly, i’d say”.
“I don’t think anyone was bothered”

Question- We saw a guy get hit by a car.
5 or 10 people were there. So we kept walking. It was a big surprise.
astonishing maybe.

As an ambassador for Australia, I feel obliged to be quiet.
How do you think people would like that?
Its a shallow stereotype, but there is some truth in these things.

If you take issue with my talking. Then it is you with the problem.
But noise is still noise. And pollution is still pollution.
“And if I’m destroying your cool, you should let me know”

We all have Easter.
We all have the expression that if you press a shell to your ear you can hear the ocean.
-Nobody found that amazing.

Pranks are great.
What kind of pranks? Salt upside down, lid off.
Replace/ salt with sugar.

I asked Laurent what he thought “commies” stood for.
They are a first year group in Arts that focus on comunication.
Naturally I thought of them as the Russians. They wore blue shirts however, so I was hesitant to bridge the connection.
So Laurent goes; Commies? It’s like “magic tricks for dummies”.
It’s not the real thing, its a play on words.
Amazing where the mind can lead you. So wrong, so out there.

Do you believe that you can actually influence people, or just comply with the rudimentary life and death question.

I wish I was motivated by sex like all the rest. That way my energy would be right for all, or at least some.
A constant. ICK.
To redress with girls of my teenage years. My chemical imbalances.

If you graduated and you could have something golden what would you choose to have?
“A golden carrot” (on a stick)

I would arrive, present from a waking dream. Toothless with half a digested golden carrot lodged in my digestive tract.
-This was a ramble to the young exchanges students I had for company.
Fleeting understanding of a group whose second language is my first.
Quickly now, down the rabbit hole; confusion and a stream of babbling follow.

“I let my subconscious throw up when it feels like it”

I met MARC – the Vice President “the guy with the money”, of uOttawa.
And then bumped into him again on the stairs later on that day.

This is an olive branch.
Give you my love’s chance.
This is me in earnest.
Trust the feeling as furnace’d.

So, many problems.
Issue to take.
All’ve got one.
For goodness sake.

‘Tronquil’

I am getting sick.
So fucking tired.
Jesus.

Today the international meeting thingo was on.
Tomorrow I begin university for real.

I still feel lethargic.
I think I need to go for a run.
Maybe give the gym a try.
Mix it up anyway.
A couple of early nights wouldn’t go astray.
Many many things to achieve.
Feeling a bit tired.
I need energy to tackle these tasks.
I want clarity to hold all these ideas in my head at once.

Today I realised a good friend of mine in Melbourne;
his younger brother is in hospital with pneumonia.
Scary thought, losing a loved one.
Especially a family member, like a brother.
I dare not imagine, and can barely fathom the hurt it would inflict to the fabric of my being. What a state.
So with that thought, accompanied by the ever present basic existential “Nothing matters really, except for that which you attribute meaning and thus give value”.

So I wrote him a poem.
Because poetry deals quite well with the tragedy of life.
It rhymes, its a cute little test that everyone can partake.
If they follow the poem, if they read it through; how it affects them will be different. Some will be moved, others without care. Relevant or with a prefix, people having read something so easy as a basic poem will be influenced.

So this is what I wrote:

Bed+Babes & Icecream –

His name is Mitch,
He knows how to party.
His company’s rich-
handsome and hearty.

Take not for granted-
times, love and affection.
These days he’s planted,
test-tubes in erection.

But soft we will pray,
better fortunes afield.
Bounce back today.
Best wishes are sealed.

“Mitchy, you’re a radical and energetic young man.
You have a loving family that will always be there, and a bright future to look forward to. I send my positive thoughts and energies your way.”
Sincerely,
Patrick.

Things are often defined by their contrasting nature,
Therein beauty and enjoyment can be found in sickness.
Recovery, patience and invalidity are reflective times.
Not something to become addicted.
But the idea that these times, simply by seeking out comfort can be good.
Mind, there is no feeling like freedom.
You are momentarily mothered again, your issues to be absolved.
This is only a buffering stage. You are required to recover.
Please, please, please. Recover.
Seek new feelings.
Sense the free world.
Find perspective, in this time.
Be rambunctious and pugnacious, fight-
By all means. But do so with good in intention.