maybe when we're older I'll be less afraid

mother free me,
they beat my body blue,
bloody.
so boldly take me up to you.

I'm in no shape to share my point of view.
maybe failing's the first thing I can do.

devil, angel,
anyone you are.
place me safely
somewhere very far.

- miracle fortress, poetaster

------------------------------------------

listening to: miracle fortress

thinking: you

worrying: way too much

guess i made it through

guess i made it through this time.
not sure that i'm much the same.
its weird how much changes in one day,
let alone a couple hours.

don't read between the lines.
i'm not writing about you.
not really. still thinking of you.
i'm thinking of feeling loved
all the time.

its good.
made it through without that guilt.
life keeps on, and its a tough go.
whether or not i decide to notice..

i'm so damn vague,
not sure how to feel. i used to believe anything.
i'm more open in my stumbling.
and all the better just for trying.

tasting a narrative part 2

this morning in class, when i should have been learning about the book of Geneisis, i was looking for ways to roast my own coffee beans at home. so... I'm going to wrap up all my thoughts about java and put it to rest... right now... go-

I have this habit of drinking coffee, whereas i buy a fair trade coffee from a specific country (as opposed to a blend of different countries). One month I'll buy a coffee from Peru, another month I'll buy a coffee from Tanzania, just so i can get a feel for a coffee, and figure out what makes one country's coffee distinct from another. This is just something i've been trying for awhile.

Knowing exactly where a coffee is from, and taking time to prepare it carefully and sip it slowly, is the only way to do coffee. You're not just drinking a cup of coffee, you're drinking a story. so why not make it a really good story. (insert shameless plug for "fair trade" here). incidently, i kept one of the beans of the coffee, that the Pastor was serving, and I taped it in my artsty journal with the text "This coffee bean has a story".

The coffee I talked about last time was distinctly Sumatran. in a coffee there are certain flavours that are unique to a country, dependent on numerous factors- height above sea level, weather, soil... not that i am, or ever will be, one of those guys that will be able to taste all those weird nuances.

But good coffee doesn't need to be a complex issue. I'll make it simple for you;
1) Fair Trade (Level Ground sells some good stuff).
2) Whole Bean
3) Freshly ground

that said, i will stop bugging you about coffee. i'm not as much of a coffee freak as I try and make people think I am (try saying that 3 times in a row). I'm just a really bored college student who talks about a lot of unconventional stuff. And I've pretty much talked the life out of coffee by now.

that said, consider this the end of a chapter. I'm going to turn some pages next time.

later.

tasting a narrative

Hey Hey. I thought I would try a new look for my journal. I really like it. I also thought i would sit down in the collegium today, with half a pot of "kick ass", and "miracle fortress" playing in the background. This really is one of those great moments of life.

Speaking of great moments; I have offically tasted the worlds rarest coffee. And here is a fantastic story to go along with it- A pastor friend of mine invite me to his church yesterday to try out this "rare" coffee he had bought on wholesale. being the coffee freak i am, i took him up on his offer... and I invite a girl that I like (but that is a different, proabably more interesting, story). This rare coffee was from Indonesia, and named "Kopi Luwak".

Kopi Luwak coffeee is regarded as the worlds rarest, and most expensive coffee, in the world. At retail, the coffee sells for $200-$400 a pound. This coffee is grown and cultivated on the island of Sumatra, in Indonesia (arguably, the place where the finest coffees of the world are found).

Now heres how the coffee is produced. On the island of Sumatra there is a species of cat-like mammal called the Palm Civet. At night Palm Civets forage through coffee bushes, eating only the finest coffee fruits. It is said that the animal will starve to find just the right berries.

The Palm Civet is known to have a unique digestive system, which is only able to process the "fruit" part of the coffee berries. So, the bean of the coffee fruit is then "excreted". So farmers will search for the feces of this animal to harvest the rare beans.

So, the coffee is essentially Civet crap. And I drank that yesterday. Ah ha ha ha! (i love being a coffee lover).

The story, as the pastor explained, illustrated a profound point about faith. When God chooses to work He doesen't choose the best, the most perfect, means. He chooses the refuse of life.

One story the pastor told was of how Jesus once spit in the sand to heal a man's blindness. And if you think about it, spitting is one of the greatest insults you can inflict at another person. In that story the worst was used for the best means.

And i took this as a humbling lesson. We don't need to be perfect, or aspire to be perfect, in our characters. Somehow, God works in the ugly and awkward places in life- in the dirt, the crap, and the places where we don't think He belongs.

and this all started with a small cup of coffee. In the same way that a Civet's crap can produce the world's finest coffee, we can find the most beautiful moments of life in the crap of life... the moments of being human, and trying to feel loved.

as far as the flavor of the coffee is concerned, here is my critique-

um, it wasn't, like, the most spectacular coffee i have ever tasted. but the aroma was absolutel alluring, and sensuous - unlike any aroma i have smelled before. oh yeah. the coffee had a distinctive Sumatra flavor. I can't really think of any way to describe other than just saying "Sumatra".

I'll explain it to you later... over some chai. I need a break from coffee.

some hurting

"if theres no love, you try and find it wherever"

-me.

.... yeah. its just a weird kind of day.

some expectation

dallas green was pretty darn great. i must say. i still have that "relaxed/chill/wow, acoustic music is my heart" feeling. its cool.

The concert was at stanley park... so imagine a clear starry night, and a stage circled with evergreen trees (arguably the best type of tree) and sitting in the cool grass with blankets to keep warm. i love it.

Before the concert a friend and I shared horribly overpriced halibut and a beer that tasted like bread. after the concert i fell asleep.

oh, completely random and pointless- i had a 5 second sleep last night. which, for you who don't know, is 8 hours of sleep that feels like 5 seconds.

Then today i tried to get my passport application in, at a passport office in Abbotsford. They told me i had to go process it in surrey. Which kind of steamed me off. Why have a passport office if you can't process a passport? Damn government.

Meh. I shouldn't complain. If i lived anywhere else in the world i would be arrested for typing in that last sentence. I owe you some better writing... about my fun and entertaing personal life, of chasing after girls, and then being too afraid to talk to them. what a life.

later.

PS- i had a dream about teapots last night. Anyone down for a walk to MCC?

menno food and dallas green

I'm having one of those "arg, i feel like crap... but i shouldn't complain because i have no reason to feel like crap" days.

This feeling could have been brought on by a number of things;

- eating sketchy farmer sausage, with bun.
- eating a deep fried ball of dough, with special guest... raisins. it had some crazy name, but i can't remember what it is.
(mennonites eat some weird stuff, i must say).

or - working on my indie poetry book. i wrote some freaking heavy stuff during the summer. man.

it was a depressing 4 or so hours.

Before the end of this week, if not the end of this year, i resolve to

- not eat mennonite food
- not work on poetry projects and
- actually hold hands with a girl (i have to stay at least somewhat optimistic about this last one).

we will see.

oh, by the way, i'm seeing City and Color in two days. finally. details to follow.

as soon as i stop feeling weird.

I'm still living. somewhat.

my plan, for the next three days or so;

1) sit in class for 8 hours
2) fall asleep in 8 hour class.
3) Get Passport for New York
4) Watch "Dead Man Walking"
5) Sauce (preferably, tomato)
5.1) eat farmer sausage and perogies.

6) Watch "Benny and Joon"
7) Listen to Our Lady Peace (and lots of it). or maybe some Kings of Convenience

8) watch City and Colour in Stanley Park.

9) Write less pointless entries.
9.1) feel less like an insensitive... blah.
10) Hold hands with a girl.

(the last one might be a bit of a stretch... we'll see).

its hard for me but I'm trying

(I know I've quoted this book before... but this time it looks different. so ha).

Everybody has to change, or they expire. Everybody has to leave, everybody has to leave their home and come back so they can love it again for all new reasons.

I want to keep my soul fertile for the changes, so things keep getting born in me, so things keep dying when it is time for things to die. I want to keep walking away from the person I was a moment ago, because a mind was made to figure things out, not to read the same page recurrently.

Only the good stories have the characters different at the end than they were at the beginning. And the closest thing I can liken life to is a book, the way it stretches out on paper, page after page, as if to trick the mind into thinking it isn't all happening at once.

- Donald Miller, Through Painted Deserts.

i might become a mess of love

the "jacob and lily" show at my school today worked out pretty awesomely. i must say.

here, check out some music...

and, i'll have some prose ready for you after i get some sleep. later.

its like lightning in a clear blue sky

today was the first day of schoool. and i am horribly tired. I got to try out one of my really bad one liners, in front of all the new students (and their parents).

"Hi, I'm Adam, I'm the arts rep. If your an artsy person, or if your the kid in high school that no-one talked to, talk to me."

...well, they thought it was funny. in retrospect, i should never talk in front of a large crowd...ever.

Anyway, i still have a hundred thousand things to think about before school gets into the swing of things... meeting itinerarys, introductions, calenders, classes... GAH.

Its going to be quite the long year. I may, or may not, be going to New York and St. Lewis this year... and Europe/Spain in 2 years.

what a life. So, i have been promising myself for way too long to sit and write prose over a cup of coffee. erg. I should really get on that before "paper-writing season" kicks in. shudder.

we will have to see. later.