April 2011
1 post
o u t o f t i m e
seconds, this blog, has run it’s course. I started it the day i moved in this shithole, and it’s followed an important part of my life, but a part that feels securely behind me. I won’t delete it but I won’t update it any further either.
it’s only right to begin anew and close this little time capsule. the new is coming as soon as I can get it up. sit tight.
March 2011
13 posts
1 tag
w r e t c h ( e d )
you fill your fat belly with intricate beauties. you swallow the organized chaos of light, color, shadow. eating it down & down & down till organs threaten with rupture. then you try to nibble at cold reality, at fiscal propriety, at getting on in the adult world, and you wretch. and you wretch. and you wretch. till you choke on lung and throat and half-digested strings of light. till your...
“Its so odd when youre nice.”
– incoming text
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p i n n e d
your eyes pin me to the seafloor of love. the ocean’s bed breaks-free anything hard or not giving. a quiet tidal pull rubs soft the jagged edges and whatever in me can’t find motion comes free-floating to the surface for ships passing to pick from and wonder after.
“my vagina will not explain itself.”
– incoming text message
1 tag
Watchunited steel workers of Montreal
2 tags
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r w i r g o h n t g
sometimes you forget being right doesn’t matter. being logical doesn’t matter. you forget life is alive and plays in real time with a scope so large there is no right. you forget everything in measures. the sweet and the sour. being right and wrong. logic and whimsy. rigidity and flow. sometimes you forget knowing isn’t doing and thinking isn’t living. you forget you can be...
4 tags
words
not_ruzz:
ruzz: I don't know how to respond without calling you crazy :/
6 tags
who was the girl i snapped test shots of by that flower wrapped fountain on memorial drive. it was in a gated yard against a stone and brick building. the day was hot and sticky, and we were hot and sticky from walking. why do i remember the curl of flowers but not the curl of her lip. why the peak of the fountain, grey-brown and sharp sided, but not the peak of my passions for her. am i going to...
I give.
1 tag
g r a s p
we reach for stars. burn out our hearts. bone and ash and the rolling black fire of night will see us through. we steady our palsied hands with lies and dig deeper into the hot-wet wound of our-self(ves). march will find either our bottom or our end. april will hold either our after-birth or greying quieted limbs. may will hold all, or nothing.
February 2011
12 posts
when your own body becomes enemy you have no friends.
4 tags
f e b r u a r y
we fucking destroyed january. we put it in our mouths and chewed it down. gristle and stone and all. we destroyed it. nothing it threw held sway. it died a day at a time; now february need follow. we know it’s february because our heart is a broken shoreline. because our blood rolls just below a constant boil and our bodies cry out for the coming melt. we know we cannot give up. not this...
1 tag
l o v e r s
browsing tumblr and stumbling across past lovers transformed into masturbatory material for other men puts me off. porn reveals itself for what it is for a second. abstracting the experiences of real humans and making them fit for anyone who wants to inject themselves into the scene. they don’t have to deal with the complexities of love, or the drama following drunk hookups, or the loss of...
4 tags
i n ( v a l i d )
you wake rough-raw. the first hit misses it’s mark. double down. there’s enough pain to go around. maybe if you drown the body-pain, steep it, with an aching heart, or longing mind. maybe if you soak in the stink of nostalgia you can use the weight of it to break the connection. read yourself. remember finding god. the scrambling neurosis of recovery. that black heart with perfect...
2 tags
“MONDAY, FEBRUARY 06, 2006- thank you for helping me find god tonight.i would...”
– from one of my old hidden blogs.
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“i just keep telling myself over and over again that the app store shall set me...”
– me in an outgoing email
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l i v e
i dreamt of raw entropy, or life. everything coming together now, apart now. the world of dream exploding and tearing at the seams as quickly as it shaped and became. a moving, unstable mass of destruction and creation exceeding my tiny mind’s abilities to calculate, plan, think. a moment of terror; out of control. a moment of surrender; released from control. a moment of life; moving and...
s t u t t e r
you come in and root around. looking in corners, under couches. you take your pictures. you can add them to your “files”. My home, my kitchen, my life. you add them and say you’re championing me. watching out or protecting me from my slum-lord landlord. sure. but you also make me someone who can’t look out for myself. make me someone whose home, and life are so broken, so...
3 tags
[self release];
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“i have no game. im like a monkey who waits under the tree for ripe fruit to fall...”
– ruzz, in conversation.
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January 2011
17 posts
2 tags
“yes, it does. if you feel like panicing, i think the societal cure is to throw...”
– an email i just sent.
3 tags
the way you talk about my needs, like they are sitting in the room with us inspires my need to rebellion. makes it rally around never needing again. never wanting again. the way you talk about my needs, makes them seem a yoke about your neck.
3 tags
crushing neurosis. the weight of the imagined grinds you to powder. you’re holding on for february. for anything really. stress headaches. muscle spasms. incredibly long dark nights waking into days of put aside demands. immobile. an infinite range of choice that pulls you into stillness. you can’t get free when it’s you who holds you. maybe you can’t even catch your...
I’m just a dreamer, but i’m hanging on. — the tallest man on earth
why does it feel so gruesome watching people climb in, sift through, and climb out of my garbage bins daily?
“it’s only after you’ve lost everything that you’re free to do...”
– fight club
5 tags
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t h e c e n t e r
the center cannot hold and january claws her tax. she pulls every loose thread towards her, a lover tending her needs. a mother defending the dying childhood of her kin. grasping. tearing. fighting. she’s a formidable foe and carries with her, always, an arsenal of horrors meant for only one thing. the taking away.
f a c e ( i t )
you’ll miss facebook on those off days where you let a problem stew, and tumblrs full of crap that doesn’t distract you. or when you’re trapped in the house for days on end because you’re a delicate flower that avoids the cold weather—which occupies your region for 9 months a year. or when you’re idling on a thought and just need out for a while. or when you...
4 tags
Watchmy love said the birds know the end is near.
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h a l f s t a c k
chewing through page after page. snow and the almighty written word. winter and careful minds. a comma for the crook of a knee. the sheets may not be full of arching backs, or muffling the impassioned cries born of fall love affairs, but your hands are never far from the spines and curt edges of fresh pages. last year i spent my nights reading your beauty marks, the waxing of tensed muscles, the...
December 2010
10 posts
1 tag
i will get out from under all this. eventually.
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e n d s
the whore in your side kicks & kicks as though your ribcage is between her and survival. a trapped animal destroying whatever it must to get free. your ribs remember coiled hose pushed through your tender innards. they remember the blood and gore set free. the compression come uncompressed. a lung the size of a small apple scarring it’s way back to scale. bone doesn’t care about...
3 tags
n e i g h b o u r l y
she yells and cries, cursing bursts of anger, wailing bursts of hurt. a staccato in canadian french. he must be sitting quiet, or talking softly. she gets louder then, louder, still. doors slam. dishes are hard-thrown into metallic sinks. she’s leaving. oui, she is leaving. she clears the eight or ten stairs, pushing out the heavy back door. her feet crush fresh snow crossing the parking...
1 tag
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