I hide in my bed with the lights on the floor

I thought, since I finished a paper this morning, that I would sit around reading small portions of books online. I came across a story called "Ella Enchanted".... and I am in love! I now remember why children's books are so full of heart.

There is, indeed, a huge difference between being "childish" and "child-like". Being Child-Like allows you to find out something you didn't notice before.Like how fun sitting under a ray of sun next to couch can be.

the difference between fantasy and imagination- fantasy being the lesser of the two

a night
another fairy tale.
wash me in your
open arms.
lost. lost in
bridges, crossing
to the castle.

princess,
take my hand like
imagination.
another timeless night.
the air is
only moving verse.
green and soil,
gods and creatures of a
smaller narrative.

a night,
an amour of
enchanting parchment,
a paper dress.
paper covers, quiet skimming.
calm aroma,
new white pages.
the good stories are those that
open our arms.

-those that make the
same world more captivating.
those that brings us more
into life,
rather than escape.

PS- I think for Lent I'm going to give up typing out my thoughts online. ie- here, and FACEBOOK. I think that my habit of putting thoughts online has become less "every once and awhile when I have something good to say" to "all the time because I feel like it".

Alas. facebook is a lame place to leave poems lying around.

See you.

what the light was like

The days still feel like weeks, with this whole not eating thing. Which, in many ways, is only getting frustrating.

My roommates were both participating with me in this fast, and they both went off it yesterday (well, I kind of went off it myself, via the eating of two loaves of bread, but I decided to go back on). One of my roommates decided to clean house, eating every bit of immediately accessible food! (including peanut butter, orange juice, and some chili I made).

My other roommate bought a pizza. Evidently, we all suck at nutrition. In other news, I started singing lessons last week, and I am a horribly self-conscious person, prone to starting something, getting really good at it, then quitting because I start to feel too insecure... ever since high school (that particular list includes guitar, football, shotput, writing prose, and swing dancing).

This, I have promised myself, will not be one of those times. And now, a poem that has nothing to do with what I just said (until next time):

three small lights

my life is like three small Christmas lights,
(and many other things).
holding the house together with low glowing warmth.
keeping things together.

all our friends are getting married,
and I'll stay much the same.
I'll go on trying to be fine with my life,
always feeling about halfway there.

I'll be one who keeps the lights on tonight,
not the one trying hard not to cry.
even when clouds part, or light covers window,
and I'll find her soon, I know I will,
the unassuming girl in a white paper dress.

We'll wake up the same, though tomorrow I'm still single-
we'll pick up books and play words in the morning,
wake up next to metaphors and verse.
the tracing of arms and quiet hands,
the hiding and painting mystery in covers.

all my lights are making plans.
We'll all stay friends, then love somehow happens.
I'll serve coffee downtown, toss rocks at nameless shapes of water,
and I'll forget everything I've assumed about "beautiful".

We're all still trying to figure out what love is like.

I am still running

Before you read this, consider listening to this instead.

Still Running

A sunny day with blue sky. The sun, slightly warm, glowing in a light shade on the couch. These are the shades of waking up ten years old in a small bunk-bed, my room in a basement in Nanaimo, one of the 7 or so houses I lived in growing up.

A lot of this past year has been distancing myself from my childhood, but still gripping onto, trying to rescue, the child-like aspects that make simple things like sunlight so warm and loveable. There are a great many things of my childhood I am blessed to hold onto, things that the triviality of life will not erase. Working a 9-5, raising kids, paying rent- none of these things should ever / are not meant to replace the first flowers of joy our childhoods birthed. Rather, the rest of one's life is, ideally, supposed to be learning how to love old things like sunlight in new ways, finding something about sunlight we didn't notice before, for every new stage we live in.

I'll leave it at that... because I really am having a hard time finishing this thought (Tuesdays suck).

Lets talk about this in person, my two or three readers, most of which live too far away. Or... talk to someone else about it, until then.

Later.

Evenings

an insight on fasting: eating food and sharing community cannot be separated. Sharing food is essential to time spent together. Its interesting.

more or less / evenings

Pt. 1

a new CD to call my own,
something I haven't had in quite awhile.
I mass produce most of music collection.
I almost forget which parts were free.

And I forgot what I was going to do today
somewhere between feeling broken and two cups of coffee.
We seem to live in a state of unresolved sadness,
And that is the very thing that makes us human.
apparently.

My first cup since I started this,
something I haven't tasted since Sunday.
I can't decide just yet if this is numbing the pain or
if its just me trying to feel fine about my life
for once.

My head is spinning because of the coffee,
or maybe its the long night alone again.
Thieving and wandering in creativity.
listening just makes it easier living with myself.


Pt 2.

I read some old poems I wrote last year.
And I decided I might stop talking to "you",
a vague person I refer to.
I seem to forget who I'm talking to sometimes.
or I just like the idea of having someone to give words to.

I write much like I take adventures,
always wishing i could share the story, at that moment.
I don't want to keep all this to myself.

Pt 3

Its been a very interesting 4 years.
I'm different, but the same.
I still feel the constant need for love.
But now I'm starting to know why.

I can't stand to be this honest and still not feel confident.
I'm more a fan of feeling specific and concise.
I almost forgot I wasn't eating this week.
Somewhere between feeling unfinished and two cups of coffee.

another evening of friends with pizza would be nice
right about now. or when this thing is over.
A nice fire and some candles, some hot chocolate, a movie
and some awkward glances. We're both wondering how I feel.

...

I should probably get some reading done now, with all this free time. Let's hang out later.

- Adam

No surprises

Fasting, Day 3.

I was talking to someone about this fast this morning, and I found myself very discouraged afterwards.

Mainly because a) I don't know much about fasting, other than what I have read in books, b) I don't know much about poverty for the same reason, and c) The first two days have felt like a week.

The background story: Some students from my school started this partial fast to build a sense of community, and talk about poverty and agricultural issues. We meet once a day and each have 2 cups of rice and half a cup of beans.

Yes. this is not them most intelligent thing I have ever done.

So far, I'm feeling too weak to care about issues, and a little too hungry to concentrate. Thus the need to re-evaluate how I'm doing this... less tea, more OJ and water. One of the things I'm figuring out really quickly is how much free time I have, with all the not eating. Eating is pretty much my hobby.

I suck at nutrition. One of my goals for this week should, essentially, be to eat healthier after this is all done.

As well, I'm starting to appreciate bread a lot more, now that I can't have it for the next 12 days. Freshly baked break, broken with friends. Bah.

This will get better... as soon as I get some vitamins and juice. And as soon as I get my head together and figure out what this "not eating" thing is supposed to accomplish with the 30 or so students I am leading. What does any of this have to do with solving poverty, or doing anything of great consequence?

I'll get back to you.

I think, therefore, too much

Ok, seriously. When the only person that comments on my blog is a spanish spam advertising site, there must be a problem. gah!

(friends who do comment here, do not be offended. your feedback is appreciated. word).

Secondly, to my great shame this blog could have the least to do with my actual life. I'm sure that if you, who have never met me, you would be surprised (no, really).

However this works, I find when I write it has less to do with my daily life and more to do with venting deep unspoken thoughts. I probably I think way too much.

Just a quick thought I wanted to throw out there.

Thirdly, I'm thinking a lot about how I should not be chasing after ideals. In other words, my friends and I seem to chase after this idea of "home" a lot- what does home mean. And the more I talk about home the more I sense that home is as close as a loving relationship, a holding of someone's hand, or an hour devoted to slowing down and being with someone. Whatever.

I could either chase after some ideal my entire life- like the ideal wife, car, house, job, future- or I could stop, and ask myself "is there some way to find something I love about life today?". As opposed to waiting for all my ducks to be in a row (to use a cliche that is really funny to picture), to wait for everything to be together in my life.

So thats that. This journal is, in my mind, a poor representation of myself sometimes. I can't remember when it became a place for me to just vent... or be too hard on myself for that matter.

On a side note, my friends and I are starting this fast called the "least to survive" fast. Basically for the next two weeks we are only eating the minimum amount of food to survive- a cup of rice and some lentils once a day.

I'll definitely keep you posted on this one. Thank you for bearing with me, and all my random doubts and wonderings.

Later.

some comfort and some grace - reprise

I'm starting to think that this idea of home has to be about relationships.

A friend of mine wrote an entry about home on, of all places, facebook. He wrote;

"What is it that makes home? Part of it seems to be in my trust in God's faithfulness in His provision for me. There's certain peace that comes from knowing that the Father will take care of His son. No home would be complete without that peace We got onto the conversation about home". And so I responded, with this:

"maybe home is just about where find out who you are. where you feel most like yourself, the real you God intended you to find.

and maybe thats all this faith is. a bunch of people who feel lost, and are looking for belonging.

I have come to believe, with a lot of hurting and hope, that we find God in the nuances of our creative nature. God wants us to find out who we really are as humans beings because we are important... so stupid things like feeling hurt, heartbroken, or overjoyed are perfectly legitimate to feel.

home, then, is where you can feel safe to open up to change- where you can feel safe enough to go into the deep places of the heart where you find out who you are."

In one of my classes yesterday a speaker asked the question, why do we feel the need to rest? I started to think the reason we rest is to "be ourself". Rest is removed from trying to impress people, trying to win approval. When I rest it's as if I am acknowledging that who I am is important to someone else.

~

So, thats that. I was hoping to sit down, enjoy a relaxed morning and write calm prose. Instead I sort of woke up feeling anxious, unrested, worried. One of these days I would love to see all this stuff, all the thinking that comprises too many mornings wasted, unfold in the context of a narrative- a story told carefully, allowing the most held-dear insights time to unravel and grow.

I'm not, personally, a fan of stories that give you a list of dry details and events. I like those stories that are made to breathe.

I really need to just figure out how to find rest. There must be some magical formula behind this... Having my time better managed? Putting all my plans for this semester, including assignments, on paper? Spending less time inside? Reading a bit more?

Whatever. I'm not too worried. I owe you some prose.

Listening to:

Waiting

So, thats that I guess.

I took the greyhound (never again) home to Abbotsford today, and then got on the wrong transit bus twice. Then I walked home for two hours.

In Vancouver I;

1) Spent way too many hours at the Drive
2) Spent, also, way too much time on Burrard
3) Did not spend enough time at JJ Bean
4) Performed poetry at Cafe De' Soleil (randomly).
5) Visited Georgia O Keefe and Emily Carr at the Vancouver Art Gallery.
6) Drank a bottle of Island Lager on a cold and windy night looking out at lights of Vancouver across the ocean water. Beautiful.

7) Watched many a beautiful film: Juno, Garden State, Blood Diamond.

Now I'm home, and trying to adapt back to college life while toying with the notion of writing some good poetry. one of these days.

I'm planning my first concert this year with a friend, at a City Blends. If you really want to go, its Saturday at 7.

I learned more than I could imagine in a few days of traveling. Such as how to talk to a crowd instead of at a crowd when performing. And now I know less about home than before.

Which is humbling, almost enjoyable, a bit sad. I wrote in my journal yesterday that "It's God's gentle way of saying 'It's Ok. I have this all figured out for you. All you have to do is enjoy it"

So, this year is going to be a lot of that. Hopefully.

Listening to: Death Cab for Cutie - Transantlanticism
Reading: Traveling Mercies
Watching: Born into Brothels
Thinking: You (as always).

~

these snowy nights can remind me of my finitide,
gently tapping on my arm.
the smell of pine trees and cold air falls
and leaves like a faded holiday season lost of warmth and memory.
We'll look back fondly in a year or so.

The most beautiful and pure aromas have lived here with me,
pinned to my walls and the ceiling every morning,
every night I was praying for another today, another chance to get things right.

endless numbered days

Hello Friends.

You will all be happy to know that I am safe in Vancouver, after three days of fun in Washington state.

Some good stuff I found:

In downtown bellingham I found one street with three packed bookstores! I came pretty close to spending an entire day there. My time was divided between The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath and some Luci Shaw poems (foolishly, I did not purchase either of those). Eventually I just picked up a copy of Traveling Mercies for my mom.

I found this great artsy town called "Fairhaven", with a cafe that served vegetarian food, a record store right next to an italian coffee place, inside a building with a small fountain and winding stairs. It was heaven.

At the record store I found copies of "Our endless numbered days" by Iron and Wine on vinyl. This purchase will definately turn into many nights of tea and conversation.

I had concluded that I will definately live inside an artsy town when I grow up.

So. I will keep you updated. I need some down time. or some home-made alfredo sauce.

Thus is my traveling life.

traveling grace

Imagination seems to be the thing least valued in our present culture. There is a lot of attention given to fantasy, but the difference between fantasy and imagination is that in fantasy the story has us at the center of it, indulging us. Imagination takes us beyond ourselves.

- eugene peterson

A Christmas Journal: Chapter 6

My life is turning another chapter today. Kind of. Upon realizing that this isn't the home I thought it would be, I'm going to go look for it.

I'm traveling to the Seattle area tommorow to meet up with my mom, who moved there this year with a man she met online. It should be good. Apperantly she lives in a tiny place called "Ferndale", so many adventures and conversatians involving my weird progressive ideas will ensue.

Then after that I'm going into Vancouver, the most beautiful city I know. On this stretch of my trip I will be:

1) taking the skytrain to the neighborhoods I frequent- Gastown, Granville, East Hastings, Commercial.
2) Stopping into the Vancouver Arts Gallery for the "Georgia O'Keefe" exhibit.
3) Sitting down at JJ Bean
4) Meeting at least one or two people of the creative and feminine persuasion. hopefully. If I can get over this whole "insecure" thing.

5) Writing something.
6) Conversing about life.
7) chasing a skunk. or a squirrel.

And just for fun, I'm going to put together a collection of things that every person in their twenties should experience. If you haven't already experienced these mainstays make sure you do... today. unless you already have (Heather):

Illinois - Sufjan Stevens
Five Leaves Left - Nick Drake
Transatlanticism - Death Cab for Cutie

Garden State
The Royal Tennenbaums
Good Will Hunting

Blue Like Jazz - Donald Miller
Traveling Mercies - Anne Lamott
Life after God - Douglas Copeland

The list goes on. On a side note, I always feel like a bit of a tool when I look back on a long blog and realize that I have not said much. Or, I have said too much and lack a central uniting theme.

Sigh. I'll work on that when I'm traveling. I think thats what traveling is all about, really- finding some wisdom in writing. You learn to say what is important, and work through the rest in solitude- working through the details quietly over a warm drink, enjoying the relaxing prospect of developing insights and connections.

Let's talk. Later.

- Adam

hiding in the paper, pretending not to hear

So, it has turned out to be a fine Christmas. Today has been a lot of hanging out with friends, eating bad "chinese" food, smoking cigars, and pints of Keith's.

And watching the traditional Christmas movies: The Santa Clause, Home Alone, Almost Famous.

A Christmas Journal Chapter 5: Lessons of a Christmas alone.

- You need something to start the day. Without something to start the day, it becomes hours of nothing.

- Malls, even though filled with many people, will only make you feel more alone.

- In some cases it is better to go out for tea. It gives you an excuse to get out of the house.

- Red Peppers are not in season during the Christmas season.

- Yams and Sweet Potatoes, however, are (I think).

- I need to figure out some way to become more confident. Less depressed about life.

My roommate called me on that today. He told me I have to start talking about what is depressing me, work through it. I have to agree. Something I'll have to think about this year.

- I need to build up friendships, for those times when the community of school is not around. Though, there is hope in knowing I have a community to come back to, after all this.

- This home thing. I don't think I'm sincerely pursuing something called "home". As much as I'm just identifying with feeling sad/lost. A better thing to pursue could be as simple as honest/sincere conversations.

I don't know. This all seems like just another late-night desperate attempt at answers, trying to feel like I have at least one small aspect of my life figured out.

I think I do have a lot figured out. Now, its just a matter of accepting that. Accepting that, yeah, I'm a mess, but I do have a lot of wisdom to offer. I have said it before; How can you love someone else if you do not love yourself? How can you offer love to someone if you don't feel like the love you have to offer is any good? How can you offer your passions and gifts to someone unless you recognize how valid those things are?

something like that. I still have a lot to learn.

- The way to figure out who you are is through relationships. People that love me see things in me that I do not see in myself.

- Having deep moments of reflection is what being in your 20s is all about.
- I need to learn how to listen.

So. Thus is my first Christmas away from home, trying to learn something about myself. The journey continues.

All the best. Talk to you next week.

- Adam

Listening: Sufjan (this song is a gift for you).
Thinking: You
Feeling: Lonely
Sorry: This entry was so long.

older song meant for an older day

December 23: A quick update.

I'm cooking some sweet potatoes right now, and sitting beside a cup of tea from Harrogate . Tommorow I'm planning on spending the day with my friend next door, having hot chocolate with baileys and watching bad Christmas movies.

I think tonight I'm going to watch the movie "Eastern Promises", which is a bit unnerving. I think its going to be a tough one.

I'm trying to process the fact that I'm not seeing my dad or mom this Christmas. I'll have to tell you how all this goes tomorrow. overall, its not so bad. Well I mean, its tough, but I have a community waiting for me when all this is over. The grace of this college life.

That is my today. Hey, let's all try something: hang some green and red materials around the house, turn on some lights and music, and bring in branches from trees outside (because I think the smell of actual tree smells better than those cheap plastic christmas trees. I am not down with fake trees). I think by then it will feel enough like christmas to get over the fact that it feels lonely. We might find some solitude.

Until then, all the best. Tis the season. And all the rest.

but they're just old light

I have a story. I feel insecure. And I don't know why.

This is my first christmas alone. My first Christmas apart from the context of family. I decided that the only place I would find an inherant sense of healing, of solitude, this Christmas was here, in my new home in Abbotsford. I am alone. I am an Island.

I don't think this time alone is working all that well. I wonder if trying to force the thought of home on this house is worth a shit. ...If trying to force this house to somehow feel like a place where my shoulders aren't tense makes a difference. Where does one find a sense of love? a sense of living in that love and feeling fine?

deep sigh. Day two of my first Christmas as an adult. I like to think this life is progressive, and I'm not going to feel lost entirely by next year. I've said it before- one of these days I'll find what I'm looking for.

(I'm not sure what I'm looking for).

I'll leave this on a more positive note, something with a deep comfort: love is...

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.