threestares

it's always just one more step. I fully believe that, especially in a moment when you thinking that whatever it is you are doing is about to hit the utmost of futility, it's usually that step that falls one after the one you thought was going to be the last in that direction.

That didn't come out right, but I totally hear what you are saying...

Good for you for making the change! it's a scary thing but fuck it feels good in hindsite.
at least, that's what I hope you are feeling.

My mom was born in Calgary and I have been to stampede way back in the day....I have not been back to the city for so long I have forgotten what it looks like....That's what aging does I guess. Thanks for the B-day wish. Your profile pic is very nice.....

Beautifully put, I do love California, yet my distain for the south Bay Area, and suburban spawl in general keeps me away. It's better that I hate it, I could never afford to live here and live my life, in ways Portland feels more like home than this place ever did, I never fit, people on the whole not only didn't understand me, they didn't care to. Maybe I just need to prove that I can create my own world and my own life, now is my time to assert myself, to shout who I am from the fire escape, to be my own god, create a new orbit. I feel muffled here, filtered, I think maybe my teenage rebellion was shallow and abortive, and I do it again, this time with rebellion no longer the goal, just a side effect of making myself happy at the expense of all else.

ps... I am glad about your brother. I always think it's somebody I know when I hear of an anonymous "name to be released" death.

I'm glad to hear about your brother

the thing I likemost about Lance Armstrong is that he is retiring...

when I first woke up, I knew it was one of "those dreams" .... the ones that come with that different feeling, the aura, I woke up late and as is my routine, I started to write it down as quickly as I could remember in my handwritten journal.
I knew it was important, but I thought it was to do with the death of me to her. It was about my ex, one I had lived with for 12 years and broke up with last summer. That was her red backpack, full of all my gifts to her from over the years. In my dream, it was the death of me to her...

Only after I updated my journal and finally turned on the TV did I re-read it and see so much more clearly how it was almost a perfect slowmotion capture of a bomb going off. The tongue of the red satin being the rail of a train kinda freaked me out even more... the tattered red backpack with the computer parts beside it, and then to the commuters punching out the windows of the train cars with their bare hands to my own shorn knuckles ...

Yeah, it really does make me wonder.

caffiene, ephedrine, asprin

then do a shot of vodka.

my favorite

I am doing the complete opposite

Relatively sober now. It comes and goes in waves...the little bastard.

Fucksakes. I'm sorry!

If it makes you feel any better, I have a neighbor with hearing problems which generally translate into him yelling everything he says.

While gardening outside my bedroom window.

At 7am.

I'd throw heavy blunt things at him but he's nearly 70. Maybe if I threw a cat or something? Cats can be very effective crowd control weapons.

damn I wish I could be in Cowtown for a night, I'd love to go see Lotus Go-Go,
....
and of course see what's happened to the city of my birth.

Where abouts in the city do you live?

ahhh! up by the Winter Club?

As a kid, my family had a membership there (if it's still even there)...

I grew up in Varsity Acres. I'm dying to find out if my old house is still there.

i think too many people are hemmed in by sociey's expectations, and their own preprogrammed social schema.
Underneath it all , if people were more open they'd explore more of themselves.

I believe in honesty.

Sometimes honesty is too hard to take.