I have no reason not to answer the door.

I got home from nanaimo yesterday, and I have spent a lot of time alone in my house since then. After a coffee with an old friend and a 5 hour commute back to Abbotsford I had a mexican dinner, and read poems and stories to youth group kids.

And, like i said, the rest of my time has been spent alone, moving couches around the house, unpacking piles of paper and clothing, trying to make my house feel more home-ey.

I decided to open one of the gifts my sister gave me, all of which I have determined are books neatly wrapped in blue paper. The gift turned out to be "What is the What", a story about conflicts in Sudan. This might turn out to be the best story I have ever read. But we'll see.

I think another one of my gifts is "A Thousand Splendid Suns" which, when placed beside my copy of "a long way gone" will give me a very compelling collection of stories. All of which came to me by chance.

So, speaking of Christmas, I now have nothing planned. I figured out the truth behind the saying "everyone has to leave their home so they can come back and love it for new reasons". This townhouse with cold windows, faded brown carpets, and stacks of books I have never read / payed too much for / feel guilty for buying so compulsively is now the closest thing to home that I know. and the question continues- what is home?

(home is where is spend too much money, apparently. Now, theres a good point. I think the overspending of money has a lot to do with insecurity. A lot of us feel insecure during the holiday season, and thus we spend a lot of money to distract us from our feelings, that driving need to feel a completeness that family is supposed to bring. end side rant).

Speaking of Christmas 2: its good, but weird and tough. All my immediate family moved out of Nanaimo this year. Though, my mom's friends still live there, and to me they are, maybe, better than "family". Now its just a matter of finding family here, in my apparent new home.

I think the two main things I will wrestle with in the next little while will be 1) figuring out how to make home feel safe, and 2)

trying to learn how to write more concise, pointed, entries. small excerpts of prose that speak to one aspect of the human condition, rather than skim over the many details.

next time. I promise.

we could have tea and conversation

So, do you remember that story I told a while ago, about coffee that was eaten by foxes and then "excreted"?

Well, today I made my way down to a tea shop here in Nanaimo, and I picked up this tea called "Pu-erh", a tea which is stored in bat guano.

The tea this shop was selling was stored in guano for 5 years. I was told that a tea stored in guano for about a hundred years would cost in the thousands.

In the tea store there was a small wall with tea stored in green bins, which you could take down and smell. This one tea I smelled was like a forest fire, a rich smoky smell. I was really impressed. One of the things I picked up was a "flower burst", which is a ball of tea that turns into a flower in water.

So, now I have two new things to add to my list of things I love;
1) Teas stores
2) Henna. I was a party on friday, and I got a henna design on my arm. Henna is an indian plant-based stuff that you use to draw designs on your skin, then you let it dre, and it temporarily dyes the design on your skin. Take that tattoing.

What has my trip to the Island beeen so far you ask (besides a lot better than my last visit)? It started it off with me riding the bus and the ferry with a girl who used to go to my school, and me being too much of a loser to approach her (i suck).

I stepped off the ferry and walked immediately to the beach, and the forest area, beside the ferry terminal- the same forest I lived beside for a summer. It brought back some good memories of finding solitude in masses of green with the sound of running water.

Then I made my rounds at my favorite coffeehouses, which I used to frequent- Coyote Cafe, and The Buzz- both of which are solid coffee places.

Then I decided to have some calamari at a romantic mediteranean place with my roommmate, jeff. The whole time we were both wishing the other was of a more feminine persuasion.

Nanaimo's downtown, by the way, is a quiet place to be after hours. Its not hard at all to find a place of solitude in this town. Or cute girls that work at coffeehouses either. Both of which I kind of like.

But, I don't think I'm going to move back here anytime soon. I still like the idea of being within driving distance of both Vancouver and Seattle. And concerts. I like concerts.

Well, this has been way too long. I have much prose to give you in the next little while. I might work on that when I get home on Wednesday.

happy advent (can't wait to get back).

- Adam

we're both looking for something

I'm going into Vancouver for awhile today, then stopping into Nanaimo for a week or so. By tommorow, I mean 4 hours from now.

Note to self- stop staying up until 1 am.

I feel a little sad. I think its the feeling one gets when leaving home. Or the feeling one gets when they return home.

I don't really want to "go home" per se. I want to just stay here in my townhome and feel like I have a life worth living. I'll be back soon enough to figure that one out.

These are the tough times in the life of a college student. For that small space of time you step out of a safe community, a place of caring. I think a lot of us wrestle with going home and expecting it to be a place of acceptance, a place where the person you are changing into is appreciated.

And, for a lot of us, that just doesn't happen. So, I guess there is a grace in realizing we have a safe place to "come home to" after stepping into family life again. I'm sure theres more to it than that, but I can't process it right now.

I promise you, very soon, entries about:

- Family
- how i have felt bad about my relationships in the past year, and how i need change.
- The need to slow down, live reflectively.

- anything profound, so I can get to sleep at night, and not feel sad all the time.

we'll see. I'll try and keep you posted on my trip. The important details. Not the dry stories and anecdotes that only i find amusing.

talk to you later.

guess you're the only one

stuff I can talk about for the sake of talking:

1) I finished exams yesterday. which hasn't impressed me yet. I still have that insecure "gah, something is due tommorow" feeling.

2) Thought I'd shave today. I do not look like a man anymore. Damn.

3) I need a good haircut. I mean, an actual good style. Any ideas on where I should go?

4) I finished a bit of my indie poetry book this week. I should have a number of copies on my coffee table by the end of the day.

Though, after a years worth of meticulous processing and work it only came out to 30 pages. Thus is the creative process. Note to self: spend less time editing and more time writing.

5) I do not feel like writing today. It could be the coffee i had this morning was too weak, or that I no longer resemble a beat poet.

6) yeah. Its just a day with nothing to say. That will change come christmas. Once I find some magical way to make my shoulders less tense.

we'll see. I need to get on the road again soon.



I will never get over the fact that I missed lifehouse in Vancouver.

take me by the hand

light snow.
light snow.

and some old music I don't like.
trying to think of a good phrase.
no use.

I can't stand my friends- for no reason.
just old quirks that only bug me today.
no use.

and my crappy computer. old, outdated
only five years old.
feel down.

I don't like the mirror. tired, worn out.
only twenty-two years old.
how do you rescue a day like today?

cold lines.
i draw some words with my hand.
today isn't going to give me life.
I'm not going to find the good phrase today.

light snow.
light light snow.
lets have a good talk, until we're on the same page.
or until we can’t do that anymore.
we only live two houses away.

they protect me from the storms

lift me up and take me out of here

Paper season continues, and I don't have any artistic drive to speak of. or anything interesting to say, for that matter. then again...

It doesen't feel like Christmas just yet. Which i think is appropriate, actually. I think that Christmas day, the coming of a long awaited messiah, should be anticipated, waited for with expectation.

They call the weeks leading up to Christmas "Advent", a tradition orignally intended to allow for the mystery of season. One thing I am discovering is my cultures distaste towards mystery. For some reason having everything figured out, packed neatly into a well designed explanation guides us. my culture doesn't like hurt, and mystery hurts to experience.

Walk through a mall and you'll see it. Plastic Santas, chocolate advent calenders, holiday kitsch and going into debt for months. Somehow we have traded community, simple conversation, with the need to buy something. call me cynical, but I think Christmas is supposed to have more depth.

Mystery. i think thats why it doesen't feel like Christmas yet. I'm still waiting.

On a side note, my roommate and I are doing a show in Nanaimo on the 17th. It will be my first time being home in a year. Even so, I'm going to spend Christmas away from home, hanging out in a townhouse... or in Vancouver.

i should tell you why sometime. as soon as all my assignments are done. or as soon as I have a pint beside my coffeetable. i like this plan.

later.



where its at. feel free to send me a letter.


Listening to: The Arcade Fire.

take your eyes off me, just for a moment

I'm in the closing chapters of "paper season" right now. Which means I'm working on my last of 3 ten page papers.

Its also the Christmas season, and in true student fashion I have been too busy to stop and reflect on what Christmas feels like. To me it feels like a lonely season of looking for family.

I should be sitting outside in the cold with a smoke, putting together thoughts with friends, being real as opposed to desperately trying then feeling bad about it later. i took a couple shots at being human this week, and now i feel bad about it. thus is life.

side note- i'm way too vague when I journal here, because i don't want to come across as one of those creepers who reveals "a bit too much" online. then again, my handmade journals feel very unfulfilling to write in today.

side note 2- I grew up with the gift(s) of guilt and sarcasm, and they have haunted me to this day.

It is the Christmas season. sometime before this year has run out of time to fill with moments I'm going to drink my fair share of fair-trade Sumatra coffee, and I'm going to write something pretty while I can.

We'll see.

Side note 3 - my whole plan to parent myself at age 22 is not worth shit. Let me be the first to say that I need some mentor figures in my life. thats me. (take deep breath now).

- Adam

listening

good mornings and cold trees

the sun in the morning,
a simple white sky, behind a townhouse, not risen yet
and two quiet evergreen trees. my sliding glass window is blurry,
and its too cold to cast it open.
i'm nothing.
i can't pronounce a word. i can't write one eloquent note
or dynamic overture.
i don't like myself that much.
i can only go so far with words.

birds are leaving over autumn's ending

I just finished a three page paper, in one sitting, so I thought I'd reward myself with a little bit of writing prose time. right now.

So... here I am... In the collegium. Dang. This is not as easy as I thought it would be.

So, I almost completely burned out yesterday. I had this fun idea to put on a concert during exam season, with three papers haunting me on the horizon like 3 dark sailed pirate ships.

My burning out involeved the planning of a concert, with Adam Loewen (a friend of mine) and Jacob Moon (some guy from Ontario).

But, actually, the concert was really good. I think there is an inherantly relaxing quality about coffee paired with acousic guitar and friends.

The whole thing about me planning events by myself, while also trying to think about personal life and school work, is not going to fly next semester. Next year I'm going to plan less, and love more.

Let me leave you with this: a poem from that a girl I like wrote (i should probably tell her, one of these days. assuming that she doesen't read this, or does not already know. girls are very cunning that way).

I bought some eggnog at superstore
it's in a carton in my fridge; open cause i already had some
couldn't wait
but now
its waiting
for coffee and friends

more to come.

- Adam

And, PS- I know it sounds like I'm treating girls like static objects, instead of unique persons. Which is something every guy deals with, but not one talks about. as soon as you start treating a person as an "it" it becomes easier to abuse that person, disrespect them, try to use that person as the means to an end.

there is a great value in being human.

so, let this be a lesson to me. appreciate friends. and really spend time trying to connect with a person, rather than spend an evening trading clever comments and calling that intimacy. forget that.

she says wake up, there's no use pretending

This weekend has been a lot of:

- childlike affectionate notions set to a background of green with iron and wine

- bad tea. good coffee made poorly (my coffeemaker broke).

- trying to write prose. not doing so well.

- trying to write homework. doing worse.

- insecurity, or something like it, paired with anxiousness and self-doubt.

- a poem a wrote that I do not like to read. annoyingly, people seem to like it.

- set to a background of jose gonzalez

- nervous public speaking (i need to stop touching my face, appearantly)

- singing "naked as we came" between unexpected conversations, set to some rainy days, and nights not sleeping.

This month is not the least bit predictable. or formulaic. something like this takes a lot of patience to feel comfortable with.

oh well. come visit. I'll make you some good coffee, made poorly. And we'll sing some iron and wine and read prose.

with hot chocolate, and a warm fire over candlelight.

O come, O come, Emmanuel

I'm trying this new thing out, these days, in my random habit of journaling. that is abiding to a set amount of guidlines for a decent entry;

a) always having a coffee on hand
b) writing after a good day / a day spent with a special someone
c) having something of concrete interest to say
d) being able to say that concrete thing in a concise, well thought couple of sentences instead of effing long paragraphs.

Today is a really good day for christmas. After hours of homework I'm going to put up the ol' lights, light up the ol' candles, and sit in the glow of a fire in the chimney with hot chocolate, watching beyond the sea.

hopefully with a girl. gah, i'm so lonely. that i will not lie about.

And I might write more about christmas... good, cheery, childlike stuff as opposed to "blah, my life is so lame, i feel so lousy, i wish it was snowing and not raining and i wasn't lonely so often" stuff.

And, I'm considering moving out to a different place, and living alone for a little while. I haven't told my roommates yet. I love the guys, but i also love solitude... Time alone to just be.

So after class I'm going to go shop for lights, some cocoa camino, and a new coffeemaker... if the MCC thrift store has one. feel free to stop by.

one of these days I will have something to talk about.

later.

all the while I was outside watching the rain

As the story goes, the Laureate / Jamison / Jeff show was pretty sweet. When Jamison played tons of people sat on the floor, and stage, during the set. Then Jeff played, and the crowd sat in awe of the provocative guitar talent.

And then Laureate, a band that sings a lot about the prairies, invited me on stage for the last 5 minutes of the show, to make fun of them and make people laugh.

Afterwards, I stayed up until 5 am with Erin (a girl I met last year-ish). We watched Royal Tennenbaums, listened to Sheree Plett, and tried to build a tent out of blankets. The next day we went to a church called "The Bridge", where two sections of chairs face each other, instead of at the stage. It puts the focus less on a band, and more on being with people.

My depressing thoughts about climate change were put to rest on Friday. I had one of those "random thing I just said that just happens to be profound" moments. Basically, I don't have to feel despairing or guilty about climate change. after all...

I didn't grow up in the building of a Industrial culture, and I'm not going to live long enough to see large scale climate change efforts take effect. I fall somewhere in between, in the generation thats waking up and realizing something has to be done.

And so, I can do a couple things;
1) Start consuming less of everything
2) Finding love in the simple things in life (lying on a blanket under a dark tree during a windstorm, sitting on a backeck with coffee).
3) Get creative. Yesterday I brought my own cup to church. Having my own sweet colorful mug to drink out of, instead of a throw-away, felt pretty good.

Oh, speaking of that, I totally made my own journals out of cardboard and hemp. Come visit, and see them.

and 4) Let my kids inherit solutions to the climate crisis, instead of more symptoms. As I'm discovering, I grew up in a culture that has ditched community, and forgotten how to be together. Thats one thing I can work on.

So, to conclude... I've got some hope. Now, if only I had some good prose. note to self- slow down at least 3 times a week. and write prose instead of facebook messages (facebook is lame for lunch).

In other news, it was really windy today. And when the wind hits the trees it makes this huge whooosh sound. Its one of those sounds you would love to hear while holding hands with someone. or, just wishing you were.

sigh. more to come.

- Adam

keep the car running

The Peace Festival, which I helped plan out, finished yesterday.

And, I must say, it went ridiculously well. Its one of those "exceeded my expectations" things.

I'll give you some details tomorrow. I'm just sort of throwing this entry together, to let you know life is alright. I'm feeling pretty good about things right now.

Listening: Arcade Fire
Drinking: Columbian, Guatemalan, and Bolivian coffee
Waiting: To relax and write a good entry, for once.

Thinking: of a special someone

later

not enough

tonight: I'm reading some prose.

Tommorow: I'm hosting a concert.

After that: I'm living a more simple life. And writing a more simple journal.

Eventually: I will perform at a coffehouse in Nanaimo (The Buzz).

And: Get over myself.

After that: I will work at a coffeehouse. Or, fall in love with a girl who works at a coffeehouse.

We'll see.

&

when they say you're not that strong,
your not that weak, its not your fault.
When you climb up to your hill, up to your place,
I hope you are well.

- our lady peace

this glancing life is like a morning star

Once I found myself, I realized God was there all along.

- postsecret.com

I'm working on a paper right now, and its not working out so well. Although, yesterday i came home and realized i did not have much to do... that the concerts i am putting on were fully planned, and the homework was reasonable.

But, now being back for a day and a half i'm starting to feel some anxiety creep up on me. Which sucks.

I have this weird thing about me, i have realized. I feel good about once or twice a year. For one or two days a year i get to feel confident, relaxed, purposeful. And it seems like the rest of the year is spent building up to that day.

then the next day its back to normal. I'm also starting to realize how down of a person I am, and I have this fear that my friends don't like me as much because I'm always complaining.

shit.

I think that the small things in life pile up after awhile. And the to do list gets so backed up, that it shuts you down. And in the mess of trying to get things done you forget the important things; like writing, breathing, having time to just "be".

I think there is something to be said for living a simple life. With the time we spend doing less, we could spend time with the ones we love, being real. And with the cash we save by buying less useless crap, we could buy some food and invite our friends over.

I have a lot of weird ideas like that. I tell myself, often, that trying to live this simple life I'm always talking about will effectively wreck my "feel good about once or twice a year" theory.

deep sigh. hmm. anyway, I think in my next random, seemingly pointless, entry I'm going to talk about local food. and farmers. and the importance thereof. and then i can make you some pie.

if we do decide to share pie, please reassure me of something- that people don't hate me because I complain too much. I'm trying to give this whole "learning to love yourself" thing a shot.

see you later. ;)



PS- i was wondering something. i think that i have a lot of love to give. and i think one of the reasons I feel down is I'm having a hard time finding out how to give love. but thats another conversation altogether (this "trying to be human" thing is more work than i thought it would be).

weekend in the city 4: in a way i lost everything i believed in

i think this is going to be my last entry until next week. because i'm thinking too much.

stuff that happened, that was not neccesarily a big deal, all that much;

1) saw some picassos, warhols, and rembrandts, and greek-women-statues at an arts museum.
2) ate an amish sandwhich
3) drank some sam adams (it kind of sucked).
4) reflected on new york.

i have never loved vancouver more since coming to new york. this place has big landmarks, but it doesen't have a single coffeehouse that i can find, or much of a community mindset.

commercial drive on the other hand...

5) sat in my room at the seafarers.

feeling: sad-esque. i'm not really "taking this all in" as much as i am just "letting it happen", as dave described it.

realizing: i am a very self-reflective person, which is both good and horrible. for all the trying to figure out who i am, i'm still having trouble with loving myself (unselfishly). or something.

6) the sessions today were about factory farms, and local food. i'm considering becoming a vegan again.

7) listened to some damien rice. no wonder i feel so down.

i'm coming home tomorrow, to plan events and write that ten page paper. i wish i could describe this trip a little better, or at least pull some kind of profound statement out of it, but its just not happening.

i promise you, yet again, some prose. as soon as i find a decent coffehouse / as soon as i get back to the pacific northwest. and i promise to listen a little more, instead of talking all the time.

we'll see, soon.

weekend in the city chapter 3: let down and hanging around

i'll keep this list short because
a) i'm getting sick of my own voice
b) i'm sitting in a session, overlooking the UN building. Yesterday we (dave, renee, and other random people and I)

a) took a tour of the UN
b) stood beside east river
c) ate sketchy mozza ball soup from carnegie
d) rode sketchy subways
e) took in a comedy show on broadway

f) walked down times square, the land that never sees the dark of night. more stories later.
g) considered seeing rent. still considering.
h) hung out with abby. more stories later.
i) heard dave tell the story about how he almost got shot the first night, twice.

thats the short of it. New York never stops moving. its kind of a gong show.

more later. i am too worn down to write.

PS- i was lying. theres no more stories later. i'm just feeling really apathetic. thus is New York.

weekend in the city 2: you belong to me

(man, was my last entry ever down. i need to cheer up, get some cranberry juice, or something).

I'm in new york right down, typing on a tiny computer in a hostel, loacted something on manhatten island. which, is weird. the reality of me being here has not caught up with me yet. i'm going to try and write this entry as unself-righteously as possible. we'll see.

we started our jouney by almost missing our bus to seattle, at 7 am. Then we flew from seattle, across america, the mississippi and lake michgan. the flight was half empty, so dave, renee, and I had three seats to ourselves- which allowed for some prime sleep.

and the flight had this TV screeny thing built into the backs of seats, which had some good music. most of my flight was listening to "neon bible" and "wincing the night away".

then we touched down in NY- really abruptly. Then we found the subway and ended up in manhatten. taking the subway, by the way, is a lot more adventurous (an sketchy) than taking a cab. dave, renee, and I understand the concept of being a "backpacker" over a tourist.

being a backpacker allows you to step into the life of a place you are visiting, rather than observe the culture at arms length.

its halloween here, so the sub was packed with constumed people. after we found our hostel we found our first sketchy New York pizza.

quick tangent- new york pizza places are very straightforward. as in, say what you want, pick it up, go. its not like a typical subway where you take ten minutes to order and gradually go to the cashier. i'll explain it later. long story short, i shouted 'stromboli!" and ten minutes later i was eating a ball of dough with special guest- cheese.

after that we wandered into a park crowded with people, smoking clove cigarettes (to my shame. i feel lightheaded, and my mouth has a dry taste to it. never again).

so now i'm trying to find the balance of keeping to myself to avoid conflict, and meeting interesting people. tommorow we're going to try and watch a broadway show, and drink pints of samuel adams.

and maybe, sometime between being tired and anxious, we'll get to walk through the village. i almost feel guilty for getting to do all this.

there are many more details, which are probably irrelevant, and i'm dead tired. tomorrow, we start discussing sustainability and climate. my head will be full for years to come.

later.

a weekend in the city, chapter 1: ghosts from broken homes

I'm flying out tomorrow. so starting a travel journal seemed appropriate. I'll be on the run until Sunday, so hopefully that inspires many "prodigal son"esque writing. meanwhile, i'm stressing out about next weeks peace festival.

I'm trying to figure out which books to bring. my heart is telling me Blue Like Jazz and Traveling Mercies. If my copy of Life After God had arrived via mail by now, that would probably find some space in my backpack as well.

I checked out the hostel i'm staying at online- the seafarers- which definitely seems built for the sake of young adulthood. I'm down.

I wrote a pre-trip poem, which turned out a little bitter and scared of the unsureness of this trip. I swear a lot, i won't lie. swearing is one of those "i really want to feel human" things that i love. right up there with beer and artsy movies.

I realized that i don't have a good jacket... so rather than try and find a ride to commercial drive, the place where all good jackets reside, i stopped into Valhalla Pure. $100 later, i have a new jacket... and a whole lot of conviction. damn.

i really want to listen to some music, and forget about stress. forever. i promise that these journals will be progressivley less crappy and depressing. it just feels like one of those nights.

i'm having a lot of those lately. lets have some down-time when i get back. i'll bring the tea.

later

listening to: cities

- Adam

because this city, this city is haunted.
theres no hope left for these souls.

- alexisonfire