Monday, April 27, 2009

Old Ghosts, New Ideas

Milan Kundera once said that if something were to only happen once, it may as well have never happened at all. As we, humans, have but one life to live, we may as well have never lived at all for how little influence we could make upon the vast universe. For many, this is a frightening concept. I can understand why! At first glance, it would seem as if this Nietzschian-esque philosophy were outright extreme pessimism at best, nihilistic at it's worst.

For me, however, there could be nothing more encouraging. If I may as well have not existed, if all my choices, all my mistakes and triumphs are to have no overall significance in the grand scheme of things, then I am truly weightless and free to make any choice I desire, as I desire.

In short, I'm fully ready to start taking the sort of risks that would normally give me pause because I've absolutely nothing to lose from the experience. Too often, our fear and worry of failure and consequence act as anchors, keeping us trapped at the bottom of the sea in a crippling sort of stand-still. It's already begun, I think, as I've always been prone to act first and then rationalize my actions later (if at all!).

Growth! Try as I might to fight it, it's inevitable in me. Even Pan, The Avenger became more complex a personality as he met Wendy and interacted with new places and people! So too, then, must I and I'll ride on the backs of all the winds to do so. Happy thoughts and pixie dust.

In case it hasn't already become obvious, my insomnia is absolutely still in full force and my renewed refusal to take sleeping pills has left me feeling rebellious all over again. Consequently, I find myself motivated to write and write and write!

She'll catch his eyes
through empty skies
and light a beacon in the dark.
Hers is the only voice he knows,
His is the only ghost she chose.

A slow waltz,
clumsy steps that lead into
a frantic sort of passionate movement
she's floating, light-footed
he's sinking through the floors.

Outstretched fingers brushing lips,
hushing every sigh, muting every kiss,
giving form and weight and context
to the breeze that bore the flighty heart.
New moons birthing weary eyelids,
resting heads over slowly moving chests,
dancing with every breath.

Still, he'll catch her eyes
though they've dimmed the lights
and line a path back to the cloth.
She'll give a smile, and all the while,
laughter in the dark.

He said he wanted the weight of her,
she said it was never hers to give. "Some
questions are better left unanswered"
"Sometimes it even hurts to laugh"


p.s. I think I've fallen.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

"Round and round the sun we go; the moon goes round the earth. We do not die of death we die of vertigo!"

Sometimes, it's hard to not believe in some higher force orchestrating things from afar, because life is far too wicked and ironic for me sometimes. For instance, the night that I cave and finally take my sleeping pills, I spend hugging a toilet because of an unforeseen bad reaction, and so I end up awake anyways. Meanwhile, the night before gave the best sleep I've had in ages, however brief it might have been, and achieved without ever going near those stupid pills.

The family is off in Italy and, as a result, my brother and I have had the home to ourselves entirely. Needless to say, each day has been quite interesting. Since exams ended last week, I've spent a grand total of two days sober. 2/7 isn't so bad at all, I don't think!

I've been spending time outside my usual circle and I've got to say, it's actually very liberating. I've said it before, but meeting new people is always a fun experience for me. Or, just getting to know people that I never took the time to before, equally fulfilling! The point is that boxing myself in was not a wise choice and now I am going to spend days talking to bums, strangers, passerby and anything remotely alive-looking that I come across.

Speaking of bums, what's with homeless people in this town growing more and more bold? Can we not drink in a park in the middle of the afternoon without being accosted by some dumpster-dweller? We understand that we're essentially drinking on your lawn, but asking for my beer is like asking for my HEART. Scratch that, I'd rather give up my pump-organ than my liquid happy. Hilariously enough, he had a nice pair of snake-skin boots.

Not a good year for sports! All my teams were hit with early eliminations! The Giants, Juventus, Liverpool, and now the Canadiens! We're out of the playoffs, but I only just got started growing out a beard and have no desire to shave just yet. So, I've decided that I'm going to continue to carelessly let the face-fuzz run rampant across my visage. The progress will doubtlessly feature on dailybooth at some point or another, so if you're not already on there and following me, what are you waiting for?

We haven't even begun summer yet and already this vacation is shaping out to be infinitely better than the last. I'm strangely at peace with all the occurrences in Javland. Oh, certainly there is drama and due stupidity, but when you don't really much care, it simply becomes entertaining. Or maybe it's just because I'm allegedly a "shitty person" or "the worst person ever", or my personal favorite, "the original asshole." My only regret is that these people don't have the nerve to voice their opinions to my face, so I can better demonstrate my assholery in full-force.

I desperately need new reading material. Late nights are unbearable without a good book to keep my company and I've finished everything on my list of things to read. So, if you've heard of or put down some particularly fun novels lately, throw some suggestions my way! I'll love you forever if you do.

Wolverine: Origins comes out in theatres next week and I am absolutely, positively, utterly and completely beyond excited for this movie. My three favorite Marvel characters on film, two of which appearing for the first time? Gambit and Deadpool equate to fanboy-mode Javex. True story.

and finally, in music land, I am all about four albums right now. Bitte Orca, by the Dirty Projectors, It's Blitz! by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Fantasies by Metric and Chunk of Change by Passion Pit. I recommend all of them to everyone, ever.

And with that, I'm going to go play more RE:5 'til sunrise.
Goodnight, droogs!

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Where Can I Find A Woman Like That?

Quite possibly the greatest song ever written.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Vowels Lost in the Gauze.

I need to somehow merge sober Jav and head-full-of-liquor Jav into someone who will actually
have the nerve to say and do what I truly, deep down, want to. Until then, many more nights grinding teeth to powder. I'm slowly undoing years worth of conditioning and adaptation, for what?
Well, I'm not sure but it's happening regardless of whether I want it to or not. An adventure! A strange new kind that doesn't require indians or pirates or the Lost Boys (though having them behind me would be of great help.)

I really want to have metal parts. A MegaMan blaster-arm would be essential to the build, along with cool robot eye-glowing scannery-type stuff.

Tonight was strange and interesting and I'm not sure how, exactly, I ended up involved in this but it has been fairly enjoyable. I forgot how much fun spending time with "new" people can be. Making new connections with people is always a fun experiment. The ending kind of fell apart and I'm extremely uncertain as to how I even got home at all. Not sure what it is about me, but I seem to attract all the crazies in this town. While waiting for my bus, someone popped out of a CoucheTard and threatened to cut my head off. Apparently I was giving him dirty looks or something? He ended up throwing a glass bottle in my direction, thankfully not hitting me, and getting pinned to the ground by metro police.

Let it never be said that my life is boring.

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Ask No Questions, Tell No Lies.

There are some things you're better off just not knowing.

Polaroids of Polarbears.

I've got the first Alexisonfire album blasting and a Foufs-induced headache still pounding away at my brain. Saying that this feels familiar would be a huge under-statement. Still, it was a goodnight! Well worth losing my voice shouting at strangers and singing Spice Girls at the top of my lungs for. (Hilariously, every song I sang before we entered the club was played once we were inside. Ace of Base included.)

I can't help but feel like now that I'm done school for the summer, I've nothing overly productive to do and while at first, I embraced this idea whole-heartedly, I now find myself very much put off by the it. Sure, I've several projects lined up to keep me busy, but frankly, it won't be enough. I don't, however, want to spend my entire summer doing nothing but working as last year went, 'lest I die from boredom and the subsequent lonliness.

Interestingly, I've found a nice, thin, long cut that stretches from the top of my left rib, just under my heart, down to just under the fourth rib moving outward. No idea how I got it, or even when. I hadn't even noticed it until I took a shower earlier and my chest began to sting. (No, I don't often look at mirrors whilst topless.)

Tomorrow, I'm going downtown to trade in my DS Lite for a new, sexy Nintendo DSi. I haven't decided on which colour to get, but it's going to be the new apple of my eye for quite a while to come, especially since my Xbox hasn't come home yet. (Miss you, seXbox.)

These pretzels are making me thirsty.

Oh, for those keeping track, I'm still operating on zero sleep. Go me!

I just finished watching Moulin Rouge for the 30th time and I forgot how much I love Ewan McGregan is this movie. Nicole Kidman, not so much. At any rate, what with that tear-jerker ending, I need something violent or funny or both to lighten my spirits.

Or Skins. Because I haven't marathoned the first Generation in a while. (read: few days.)
Or maybe the Sopranos? I haven't watched it over since the series officially ended. (and terribly, I might add.) Mind, I could also go with Roswell. (which makes me think of you, Chrissy.)

Anything, really, to keep me company.

Oh, hey, cool! My nose just started bleeding all on it's own. That's fun! Yet another clear sign that my body is falling apart, I suppose. That and the fact that I found gray hair on my head. Despite my initial joy at the idea of having a head full of grey hair, growing it incredibly long and calling myself Sephiroth, (a joke I think that will go over most of your heads.) it's actually kind of disturbing.

Does anyone remember the Bots Master cartoon from the early 90's? The one that was partially in 3d, so if you bought the toys and had the glasses, you could see the ninja robot jump out at you, or the explosions come out of your tv set? I just found those 3d glasses in a time-capsule shoe-box along with my Sega Game Gear and some comic books (Mostly Deadpool and Gambit. Some things never change.) Anyways, I'm torrenting the entire series now and going to make the most of these glasses. IT'S LASER TIME!!1!!1! (Oh, how I miss corny 90's catch-phrases.)

Have any of you guys ever made yourselves time-capsules? If so, what've you stuck inside 'em if it was recently and if you don't remember, have you ever opened one? I used to make a bunch and left myself treasure maps to them.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Hands Reaching In The Dark.

Sweet Fred Astaire, you always know exactly what to say. Each movement meticulous and perfect, each line clever and rehearsed. You never miss a beat, never skip a verse. A smile, and subdue those with eyes upon you; a graceful twist and turn-on-heel to have them breathless, baited for you. If my voice could reach those notes, would I have your charm? If I could learn to tap my toes, would it get me very far? I'm sorry, but tonight I think in prose.

I've got my guitar in hand at 5 a.m., singing nothing but sad songs. I meant to write great things. I meant to cobble melodies together, bright enough to make you smile and loud enough for you to hear it always. It feels sometimes like my skin is in the way; a filter between what I want to think and what I mean to say. When finally they manifest and take shape, they're nothing like what I imagined, just more of the same. But I'm growing! Stretching, wrenching, tossing, turning and spending every restless night becoming. Yes, becoming. Turning into something I could, for once, bear to bring to light. Can you taste it in the air? It's lingering like a perfect kiss, haunting you like ghosts on the edges of your lips. A breath for every heart beat. And it does beat! Like a drum, it's frantic first and races against itself just to make a sound and be heard, but calms and finally becomes strong.





Our hands are reaching in the dark. Fingers stretching outwards, hoping for that first innocent brush. Then interlock and anchor one to another. Pull them close, hold them tightly, each wrapped inside another. Palms meet and retract slightly, hiding nervous sweat and blushing cheeks. Only for a moment, then tightly grasped and sealed. Two hands, two arms, two hearts thumping, struggling to keep warm; a rhythm drumming in the dark.

I couldn't say it with words. My tongue is far too clumsy.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Hurrah! Freedom!

"And there were moments on that first night in this fetid little paradise when I prayed that in spite of all my secrets, I was somehow kin to every mortal man. Maybe I was not the exotic outcast that I imagined, but merely the dim magnification of every human soul. Old truths and ancient magic, revolution and invention, all conspire to distract us from the passion that in one way or another defeats us all.
And weary finally of this complexity, we dream of that long ago time when we sat upon our mother's knee and each kiss was the perfect consummation of our desires. What can we do in this Savage Garden but reach for the embrace that must now contain both heaven and hell: our doom again and again and again".

To all who have expressed concern toward my well-being after my last post, I appreciate the thought. I'm fine. Granted, I haven't yet caved and taken the sleeping pills, nor have I yet slept since the blackouts, and yes, I'm still exhausted, but I don't feel nearly as bad as I had.

My last paper is done, and with it, so too is my school semester! Sure, there are two exams left at the end of the month, but that's weeks away and I'm ready to write them tomorrow after all the work, reading and reviewing I've had to do just writing those monster-essays. Short stories, done. Poems, done. School until September? Fucking. Done. And with that, I think I'm going to be taking a break from that particular creative outlet, with a few exceptions, this blog included.
It's a strange feeling, not having that mounting stress on my shoulders anymore. It's renewing.
Now I'm only focused on making sure this summer is a memorable one. Last year was a huge disappointment and I was far too busy to really enjoy anything. We can't have a repeat performance of that, or I'll quite literally go insane. Well, ok, more out of my mind than I already am.

This bleak weather lately has everyone feeling down, but strangely, it hasn't been affecting me in the least. I suppose I'm so used to night-time and the dark that a few cloudy days doesn't really phase me, but even beyond that, I don't mind the rain like I used to.

The hermit days are dead and done.
And in the spirit of that, I'm excited for what's to come.

Also, never forget the classics. Some times just because it's in your past, doesn't mean it needs to be forgotten and certainly doesn't mean it can't still be enjoyed.

See you all at Foufs thursday.

Sunday, April 5, 2009


Insomnia, tonight was the last straw. I've endured you long enough. I hate hospitals. Absolutely loathe and despise hospitals. I always have and I think I always will.

Tonight was strange in general and I should have known something was up, but far be it from me to listen to what my body has to say. I've had a killer headache all day from the exhaustion, on top of having absolutely no energy at all. I hate canceling plans and more than anything, I hate breaking promises, and I hate to do both those things tonight just for how absolutely shitty I felt.

Deciding to rest, I grabbed my laptop and sat down on my bed, tried to kill some time and hopefully, just maybe get some sleep. Apparently that wasn't in the cards for me, howevI er. One second, I'm firing off rounds into zombie-brains online, next thing I know, someone is calling my name, I can't breathe and have this terrible taste in my mouth.

Turns out I had blacked out and fallen face first off my bed. The fall busted open my nose and both the bad taste and reason I couldn't breathe was for all the blood. My mother, who I'm guessing heard me fall, found me on the floor. I was sure I was fine and went to clean myself up, but oddly, the bleeding hadn't stopped. I was starting to feel light-headed and slightly nauseous. I'm told that bleeding for an extended length of time out of your face will do this to a person.

I must've blacked out, because the next thing I knew, I was sitting in the backseat of my Father's truck, on my way to the hospital. I wanted to die then and there. The rest of the drive may as well have been hell for me.

An hour of waiting in that lobby, watching everyone else was enough to have me shaking. Thankfully, the only thing I could smell was blood thanks to my fall, because anything is better than the smell of sterilized death that hospitals reek of. Finally, someone saw me. Lots of stupid questions, blood tests, bright lights in my eyes, other things I don't understand and all for them to tell me something I already knew. Extreme exhaustion, prone to blacking out, best cure is rest, blahblahblah. Sent on my not-so-merry way, though I was glad to be getting out of there at least.

Got a prescription written for sleeping pills. Don't really want to take them, but I do want to get some sleep. The worst part was I just keep thinking "I should've just gone out tonight." Especially because there was someone I really wanted to see...

I still have my headache, too.

I call do-overs on today.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Ignore This.

I'm going to offend you. I'm going to say things with unabashed arrogance and the utmost certainty, even if I don't believe in it myself just because I know I can. I will scrutinize and criticize every detail. What I'm saying is that I've a gift for being honest. These aren't the things you should be worried about.

In the battle of brain v.s. heart, in my case at least, you should be hoping they both destroy each other. Warm nights bring out the very worst in me and I feel like more and more, I'm becoming the person I had been. This, more than any reason, is why I spent so long cut off from friends and loved ones. Why I ignored calls and text-messages and lived like a recluse for months upon months.

I can't change because I'm sure that deep enough down, I don't want to.