Well, what the fuck?

You know you are one of my closer friends, one of the few people who kept me around that place at all. To go from caring about me so deeply to writing me off as a friend at all it heart wrenching.

To jump to the conclusion that I did something that I swear I didn't is hurtful beyond belief. I have never told one person one thing that any of the others from that site have ever told me; EVER, let alone when it comes to one of my better friends.

To know you think so little of me kills. I love you Ryan and I hope you realize what you are doing to me.

The Frames.

Have you ever seen the movie Once? If not I would highly suggest you do, it is a great indie movie with a stunning soundtrack. 


The two main actors are Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova both of them have such amazing voice's so haunting, between the two of them they give me goose bumps. Anyway the point is I found out they have a band called The Swell Season, and Glen actually has another one called The Frames. 


Both are incredible and I could link hundreds of them but I can only pick one.
I hope you enjoy it as much as I do

Favourite Sunday Post Secret.

It was a toss up between two this week so I will post them both.

I don't know if I can relate to this one personally but for some reason it spoke to me, made me want to put it on here. Maybe it's because I am the girl that so many people decide they want to spend their lives with. I don't know which is worse, having what you think is no one ever feeling that way about you(Which I will add you are wrong at some point someone will thank such a thing about you.), or having nearly every person you come in a romantic contact with feel that way and having to let them all down. No not every man in my life has wanted such a thing from them, but off the top of my head I can only name maybe two who haven't.

I guess it's shitty to be on either side of this one.

Touch might just be the hardest thing to forget, the physical feeling. I still remember what you look like, I still remember the way you smell, the taste of you, and the sound of your voice. More than anything though I remember the feeling of you against me, the tender touches that one day turned to lashes of anger. I remember it all, the good and the bad, it creates such a complex in me sometimes that I don't know if I will ever be the same again.

A long one.

The skies are sheeted in black rolling clouds, wind is howling through the greens of our trees, the light brown bark looks to be as dark as the black skies heavily seeped of rain. My window is open and I can hear the falling of each drop, each splash of water hitting grass, cement, puddles, cars, roof, all of it, it echoes in the silence of this room. 


So much has happened since I wrote a blog I nearly don't know where to begin. 


I think I will start this entry in the same respects that got me started doing a blog at all. Another life I was blessed to know has fallen, perhaps you will now understand, when I said I am immune to death, this is why. It seems every few months I lose another person in my life, I gain so many more than I lose, which really on means I will lose more in the long run. No single life can be replaced, no presence I have ever come in contact with will ever be replaced by another. This life was one of the man who had reached the age of 90, 90 years of life, yet in the last 2 years I would not have been able to tell you of who he was that day. I could tell you stories of who he once was to me, and the way I would play with the wrinkled skin of his hand while my fourteen year old self sat on his lap like a child would on Santa. Such a man full of hope, a glistening in his eyes letting you know that he loved you; but in the final years he had grown silent, that sparkling incline of hope faded, and most days he no longer knew who he was. 


Condolences are given in so many different shapes, ways, and forms... yet each of them mean nothing, they are notions of not knowing what else to say, and I hate them. I KNOW he is better off now, and I know he is looking down on my Bomma with a great sense of pride, he loves his children each and every last one of them, grand children and great grand children a like. His memory has been restored, his youthful years restored. Yeah, I get it, I've heard it all before but thank you anyway.


The house is empty, pitter patter, rain falls and all I want to do is scream out at the top of my lung, a release of some sort. 


"I know that things are broken, too many things left unsaid, you say you have spoken and like the coward I am I hang my head." Liar by Mumford and sons; I'll post the video at the end of this.


One thing ended and it ended with a sour note, an off key with no sound, simply silence. Words are passed down a grape vine and I don't think you expected it to come back to me, but it did. It came back to the one person you never wanted to find out, or maybe that exactly where you wanted it to fall, right into my hands. I have so many questions with no answers, and I will never ask them, I will never speak with you on my own terms. If words are ever passed between us again it will be your doing. I will not lie and tell you that it had no effect on my mental well being because it did, but when one door closes another opens and I wasted to time staring at the door you slammed behind your exit. as the thundering sound of that door echoed down the narrow passage of my mind I followed it, left and right, then right and right again in circles, and the sound dissipated. It was swallowed by the sound of that new door opening, and out of that door I saw a new brilliant light. The light was no brighter than yours but this light hand no storm clouds surrounding it and rather than a grey tainted light, this one, it was pure white, and I have let it draw me forth.


It has illuminated my life and the path I walk on.
It is not the same.
It feels just as good though.
I wont say that I don't miss you, because, of course I do, but I can also tell you I would not give what I have now up for anything you could ever offer me. I hope you find happiness and I hope you find everything you ever wished to have, but I will not be at the finish line, I can't be.


I think that's enough for this blog, I'll do another one tomorrow to cover the other half of what is going on lately. 

Favourite Sunday Post Secret.

It's been awhile I know, I've been slacking, just things have gotten so hectic.
Today I was looking through the Sunday Postsecret's that I so rudely had forgotten about and found this one: 

Well I have just recently gone through a break up, and although I may have been the one to do it, it still takes a bit of my soul every time I hurt someone. They are all such great men that I hurt, amazing people really and any girl WOULD be lucky to even keep their attention for as long as I do; but either there is no connection or they aren't truly ready for my life, but they are in such denial that they don't see it. So I end up breaking hearts, getting labelled as a man eater, and rather then having guy pursue me because they care for me, they do it because they are curious what the hype is and they are positive they are 'the man', gods gift to any woman.


Anyway, The postsecret caught my attention simply because I have spoken with people about that loving passionate sex, you know the kind where you look into each others eyes, slow movements, feeling every movement, the sex where your energy's become one, as do your thoughts, your love, in love. Oh you know what I'm talking about? good! because I have no clue.


Any woman in the world, would love to know a secret like that one up there. To know that someone misses you so badly they don't care to the involvement of intercourse but rather the tender words exchanged between the two of you.


Who ever this secret belong to, I highly suggest you tell your ex, who knows maybe they will reveal something back to you; then again, they probably won't answer your phone call, so, never mind.

Another gone

Another gone and done, and with each falling rock I realize more and more what it is I want. 
This is nothing to be mourned over, nor something to be ecstatic over, it simply just is. 
Another stepping stone.


The children, work, the few people I hold dear to me.
That is all that should matter, that is all I should be focused on. 


I prefer sombre and sober; just so you know.

Somewhere with you

We fight, we make up, we drift, we're pulled back together.

There's some sort of draw between the two of us.

Two different books, two different paths, two different lives, two polar opposites

yet something always brings us back. 

You're a person of sorts.

A sweetheart, a jackass

An intellectual, a nutjob

A dark storm cloud, the only ray of light

A source of inspiration, a distraction

To sum it up you're the most brilliant person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.

I don't know where I would be to this day with out you.

Thank you.

What the hell.

Its snowing, again, its April 28th, and its snowing. 

Really?

Why? 

Fuck you. 

I'm miserable.

I'm watching Cars for the second time today and it's only 10:33am, I really wish Marx would move onto his next movie obsession, Lighting Mc Queen is a jack ass. Justin, The kids father was here last weekend for their birthday, and well, it went well, we worked out a new custody agreements, and he's actually put in an effort to talk to them everyday. Hopefully it sticks, maybe if he keeps up with being a part of their lives I'll eventually hate him less. 

What else... oh... the kids got spoiled rotten for their birthdays, it was ridiculous, although of course my gifts are the favourite. I got Marx a Tricycle (to bad the weather is such shit in this stupid country that he'll never be able to ride it.) and I got Leeaura an indoor play tent so she can escape her brother! yay! 

I'm still miserable.

I hate blogging when I'm this pissed off. 

Manchester Orchestra

Yet another amazing band that I feel the need to share with you.

They're an indie rock band from Atlanta, Georgia, and yes it seems all amazing things come to me from this city.

This song in-particular is my favourite by them, the video is dangerously creative, and the lyrics are something I think nearly everyone has felt at one point in time. 

After all that's what makes a delicious song isn't it? 

Favourite Sunday Post Secret.

"I revel in the idea that one day I will disappear and no one will know where I have gone."

Enough said...

What is the attraction

Every person finds themselves attracted to different personality traits, different physical characteristics, and different bits of experience. 


This means when people ask me "What do men want?" or "How can I get her to be more into me?" I have no real answer. 


Men are easy, if they get to eat, sleep, and get some pussy on the side they are mainly content creatures. Of course there are extras, such as...
You need to shut the fuck up and listen to what they have to say. 
You need to be (or at least pretend to be) interested in what they say.
Ask for help even if you don't need it (Nature wins over nurture in this case)
Give space for guy time or private time.
Be sure to have your own ambitions/life.
Be there when they need you.
Tolerate their interests.


Seems simple enough to me, it's not rocket science. I don't understand why so many women can't figure out how to maintain a relationship, or why they can't figure out why they send men running in the other direction. 


As far as women go they are a bit more complicated, yet the list seems shorter. They need attention, affection, and respect. 


Once again you should listen to what they have to say, listen to them bitch and moan about things that seem pathetic to you. Offer your advise to prove you have been listening, absorbing, and contemplating along side them. 
You need to offer reminders of how much you love their physical and intellectual features. A light finger trailing across the sneak peek of flesh that makes an appearance along the small of her back, just above her jeans with a soft moan close to her ear is enough. 
Respect her body although being fucked like a toy can be fun from time to time, a good passionate romp shows that she means more to you than just a quick ram. Respect her dreams by helping her push forward, see other sides, offer different options, or words of encouragement. Respect her life by giving her space, and trusting in her.


Each gender should obviously put forth an effort in their appearances, but every individual finds separate things sexy. One woman may love your beer belly, one man may love your thick thighs or broad shoulders. The best advise that can be given when it come to the physical is to say "Fuck what everyone else thinks, strive to be who you wish to be."  If you can find happiness with yourself, within yourself, then you deserve someone who cares for you the way you care for yourself. Why bother trying to fit into someone else's sex appeal if you don't fit into your own.


Ladies and Gentlemen, there are the keys to the opposite sex.
Now please shut the hell up.

Long weekend upper tune.

you let me violate you

you let me desecrate you

you let me penetrate you

you let me complicate you

help me
i broke apart my insides
help me
i've got no soul to sell
help me
the only thing that works for me
help me get away from myself

i want to fuck you like an animal

i want to feel you from the inside

i want to fuck you like an animal

my whole existence is flawed
you get me closer to god

You can have my isolation

You can have the hate that it brings

You can have my absence of faith

You can have my everything

help me

tear down my reason

help me

it's your sex i can smell

help me
you make me perfect

help me 

think of somebody else

Night Goblins

Night Goblins

N i G h T g O b L i N s

n I g H t G o B l I n S

I'm sorry

N        i             g            h             t

G     o       b        l          i          n    s

What the fuck did I do?

Favourite Sunday Post Secret.

I've felt this way before, and I ended up leaving him.
I know many people who are married or in a committed relationship that hate each other.

I'd rather be alone than lie to myself. 

I wonder how many others out there can't stand their significant other.

Dream

I thought maybe I should take the time to speak of the dream I had last night, as it has stuck with me through the entire morning and I keep going back to thinking of it, trying to figure out why it disturbed me so. I'll try to tell it as close to what it was. Please be aware that two of the people in this dream are Characters from my old RolePlaying website. www.Rolepages.com (Vice Rosetta and Gazelle Kiley.)

We all awoke in a darkened room and as I began to rub at my eyes I saw the others. We all laid there sweating and slowly coming to our senses. When I open my mouth to speak no words would come out, no questions could be asked, and no pleas of help could be released. Barleys seconds past as we all attempted to communicate with one another, then a sliding steel door opened up ways. A stream of dim light peeled through the darkness, lighting up the face that I now embodied. 

A woman who sat beside me caressed my thigh with her own delicate white hand, this woman had dark waving hair and even with her face smeared in black and glistening with wetness her beauty shone through. This woman of black, pure black eyes pulled me to my feet, her fingers intertwining themselves with my own, and the enchanting lady known as Gazelle Kiley pulled me forward. 

We moved with a need of urgency, it was if she knew something I didn't, as if she could feel what lay before us, as if she knew I would need her to make it out of here. The others darted after us but soon we all split, went our separate ways in the twisting of curves and the lefts or rights. 

My feet moved as quickly as I could possibly let them land, and with every foot fall red slick muddied dirt made a sickening splat, spraying the shadows in a rusted unseen shade. The lean form of Gazelle moved with precision, she didn't stop to think of which way to turn, or which tunnel to dart through. While others moved towards the light she and I pushed forward in the shadows. 

every trip every fumble I encountered her hard strong arms we're there to catch me, pull me back up, and drag me fourth. 

Without notice a sudden cackle of unknown depths echoed around us, and long hot licking flames engulfed the walls around us, they moved with knowledge, the launched themselves at Miss. Killey. With terror beating through my veins, and the silence sinking in, I stood, I watched this woman burn, and there was nothing I could possibly do. They died out eventually and my dark angel lay nearly motionless on the ground. 

-Time lapse as I don't remember what happened after this part.-

The sound of dragging followed the thudding and splashing of by steel toed boots. Looking down to my arms was the charred and boiled body of my savior; I couldn't have left her behind. She was still alive, useless, but alive. 

Every bit of strength I had within me was used to pull her forward; there was a banging on a wall just behind us, nails dragging, and the dangling of what I would have assumed to be change. Glancing behind me I could make out the face of a male dark enough to blend into the shadows that had stalked me throughout this journey. My head snapping forward I saw a radiating glow coming from a hole barley big enough to fit through. 

I ran with everything I had, now dragging Gaz by her wrist behind me, I didn't look back again but I could hear this male chasing after us. 

Diving head first into this small opening in the wall I continued to pull at the limp woman, tugging, heaving, then a sickening rip, pop, snap, and detaching flesh was heard. Her arm came lose, came right off, the flaccid limb held tightly in my grip. I couldn't bring myself to let go but my eyes began to instantly pour out the salty watering. What had I done? 

-more time lapse of what I would assume to be crawling through this opening, Gazelle gone, and that male more than likely trying to free her from the hole in order to continue on. I would also assume that I made it out of the tunnel and scurried out the door way as quickly as possible.-

The breath of fresh air filled my lungs, the cool breeze hit every nerve in every right way in a shock of relief, my body was leaned against the outer wall as I took it all in. For reasons unknown I still held Gazelle's disfigured arm.

Then I the first squeal of laughter ripped through my peace, another, and then another. It sounded as if a pack of hyenas where standing right atop of me. Slowly raising my head to look, I was right, a dozen of masked humans paced with riffles in hand... waiting.

Going back into the building I once considered my tomb I looked around in panic, I was unarmed (pun intend) and alone. Dropping to my knees I began to dig through the mud, searching, seeking, and finding a clip... then a sweet little handgun. It may have not been much but it was better than nothing. Piecing it together I inhaled deeply for the last time in this room and darted out into the night. 

Plastic coverings of sheep masks taunted me while they danced in excitement. I pulled the trigger once, twice, hitting one, then the others fired with vengeance. Being a dream of course I made it out with no wounds, no pain, and Gazelle’s arms still locked in my grip. 

Running with no direction, no sight, no feeling I came to what looked to be a paused inclined conveyer belt. On both sides were a high plastic slab, and of course I must take this route. 

Placing my first foot on the belt it began to move, to push me off. Running forward with more effort than it should take I came to the top of the 'hill'. When reaching the peak I was greeted my mutilated beings, some were missing heads; others had chucks missing from their faces. Black oozing blood poured from each once, sticky and thick. 

Before I knew it I was surrounded by chomping mouths and ripping nails.

-at this point Marx had woken up, I could hear him calling for me and I awoke from this... dream of sorts.-

I would have gone into better detail with this and made it longer, but I'm off to go get the kids shots done, and then go to work, so I'm sort on time. Maybe one of these days I'll come back and edit it, but in the mean time I just wanted to get it out before I forgot it all.

Damien Rice

We might live like never before

When there's nothing to give

Well how can we ask for more

We might make love in some sacred place

The look on your face is delicate

Late night rambling.

You're drunk

I'm sober.

Yet tonight we've met in the middle.

I can't help but wonder if you're sitting there thinking of what regrets you hold.

Every small decision you wish you could take back, in ever aspect and stage of your life.

My curiosity strikes and I want to know if you want to change yourself.

I can picture you sitting there, sucking back your vodka, staring at the screen. Perhaps you are laughing along with others, perhaps you are just staring with blank heavy bagged eyes. Are those eyes green, or are they brown right now? I can picture your room, the mirrors that reflect your corner tucked bed, the basket of laundry, a messy shelving stand of some sort. I shouldn't remember these things, nor do I know why I'm placing them out in the open on here. Maybe I'll just delete this when I'm done typing, when my fingers decide to stop spazzing out over the key board. 

(Might I mention that my "O" button is being a bitch and I have to hit it twice as hard some time multiple times for it to work. Stupid P.O.S notebook.) 

You know awhile ago, if you would have asked me, I would have told you of pain and even grief, but now, I would tell you of calamity and acceptance. It feels nice for once in our knowing of one another to not try. I'm not trying to be better than I am, I'm not trying to keep up with you, I'm not trying to impress, or delight, or sooth, or care. 

I'm simply just at ease with what things are, what lines have been traced, and I'm getting rather cosy on my side of that thick black separation of chalk. I wont try to wash it away, nor will I try to sneak over it. I am pulling up my bean bag chair, some blankets, an endless supply of coffee, and an empty mind. 

You are who you are, I am who I am, there are issues, there are a lot of issues, but I'm okay with it. I'm okay with what I hold against you, it will never dissipate, but I will not let it control me. You're too 'special' to walk away from. I wont be what I was, I wont feel what I felt, but I'll still be around when you need a distraction, or you just need to talk to someone who now trusts you as much as you trust them. 

Sweet Dreams JL.

It is April... Right?

There's a few things I've been procrastinating on posting, so here we go, one blog post 4 topics, all done in nearly cliffs notes... because I just don't have time today.


The other day
No, I don't remember which day, but it was nice enough to play out side for a few hours!

This would be my stunning son Marx Adam, who has an attitude the size of Texas, I have no idea where he gets it from.

Coffee run, I think Marx was more excited than I was for our morning Tims.

Have you noticed ALL the snow on my lawn is gone?
It's almost all gone across the street?
I couldn't have been happier this morning!


The funeral
No. I didn't take pictures at or after the service due to respect factors, but I have a few from the drive out there, and I video of how ugly Alberta is, but I won't bore you with that. The service was very sweet and personal, set in a small church with an amazing pastor. There was a small tribute section which I think is what really got to me. He was so loved by so many people, the church was packed, some had to stand out in the lobby due to not enough seating in the main room (Is that what it would even be called?) anyway it was as nice as a funeral really can be I suppose. 

 


Morning Tims,
severely needed
for the long day ahead.







The rose I was 
given from atop
of Grandpas Casket.

Yesterday.

I kept the kids home from daycare, both of them aren't feeling well.
I have to admit the quality time with them is nice, they're home today also.

 This would be my daughter Leeaura Catherine, all cuddled 

up on the couch with her Ele, Magazine, and blankie

This morning.

I woke up to something this morning, something to ruin my entire day... 

would you like to see?

I have only three words about this....

Fuck you Canada!

The devils tears

I have nothing to say today, so instead I'll leave behind a song that has been haunting me all day.

This band is amazing, check them out.

Favourite sunday Post Secret.

"Trying to be a nicer person is killing who I actually am, and it makes me meaner to myself."

I find it humorous that we all think our secrets are such big deals. They are the forbidden apples that we have taken and kept to our selves, in fear that such a thing could potentially get us banished from our own garden. The funny thing is, whom ever wrote this, whom ever feels alone in this, is wrong. Here I am standing beside you with the same thoughts running through my mind daily. 

I believe in self evolution, I believe in progress, adaptation, and improvement. On this never ending road of furthering ourselves in ever which way we can, sometimes we lose sight of who we are. With time though, you discover who you really are, who you really can be, and who you were meant to be. 

Never the less, pushing yourself to hard will only create confusion.

Never give an artist flowers...

because we destroy them for the sake of beauty. 

 

There is a quick little peek at the fastest bit of photography I have ever done. When the mood strikes I can't ignore it, yet I'm out of time.

Warrior Dash

So ladies and gentlemen, I was absent mindedly flipping through facebook the other day and I stumbled across an event called "The Warrior Dash". 
This looks absolutely amazing and I want to do it so badly! Not only do I want to do it, but I want to come in first place for the women. 
I think this is a GREAT goal to have, it should be fun, and it will give me a reason to whip my ass into better shape. With that said I'm giving myself a year to train, so to all my lovely Warriors who partake in the event, I will see you in 2012. 

Blood, sweat, mud, fire, and beer! 

Jesus the words alone get my engine roaring.

Welcome to my new obsession!

Not only are you getting an amazing challenge for yourself, meeting a ton of people who are just as potentially crazy as you are, but, there's live music, it runs over the course of two days so you get to hang out and enjoy the sun with a bunch of drunk nut jobs, and there's beer stands! This sounds like my kind of place. If fact, dare I say this, but, it almost sounds like more fun than the stampede. Oh, oh, OH! and a perfectly good excuse to mud wrestle! Jesus. Half naked women everywhere, and men! you know the more I talk of this place the more its beginning to sound like the perfect utopia. 

They are hosted all over the damn'd place, but not here in Alberta, go figures. There's one over in B.C. but  if I'm going to travel for this at all, I might as well go somewhere more interesting than British Columbia. Perhaps a trip to Texas, or Australia would add to the event for me. hmm.. lots of planning and lots of hard work ahead of me.

Late night conversations.

While I sat here late at night of the 7th, silence creeped through out the house. I could feel the haunt of a past lingering in the air. So many memories, so many thoughts tried to work their way back into my inner self, but I fought them off, I kept them away, determination to get back to me had taken over. I wanted to not speak with a person, I wanted not to be reminded of the obstacles I face. While my small toes curled under the blankets and warmth had finally reached my nerves, that's when your name appeared on this computer screen.


I received an apology, an explanation, and an "I miss you", but it's not enough. When I said I hold no resentment towards you I meant it, I feel nothing but love for you, and I am ever so grateful that you were ever in my life. You had taught me so much, given me light when I was over taken by darkness, but the more I think of it, the more I realize I could never forgive you with my whole heart. I will never look to you the same again, and I will never feel for you the way I once did. 


Amazing men backed by poor decisions are not what I want to associate myself with, I do not want to give you any more of me. I could never forget you my baby-roo, and you will always drift in and out of my thoughts. I may speak with you from time to time, just to make sure you're doing well as I want nothing less for you; but it will never be the same. No more 2 am phone calls, no more drunken affection, none of it. For that I'm sorry, for it all, I'm sorry. I know this will not effect you too strongly and perhaps that brings me peace.

I only could hope we both find happiness, but sadly neither one of us will reach said happiness with the other in our life.

For the last time ever, I love who you are.

Twisting Stomach

Knots.
Tangles.
Twisting.
Turning.
I feel as if a war has gone off within my body, its fighting its self, its fighting for me, its trying to protect my thoughts. Let this be my out let, let speaking of it free me. I can not eat, I can not sleep, my mouth is dry no matter how much water I bring to my parted lips. I have no words, I try to speak but nothing will come out. The golden girl is seen through so many eyes, but I can not live up to the standards others have set. It seems as if this time frame will not come to an end.


This is not me, I am the one who is ecstatic about life, with yes swings of emotions that take me to different places. A temper usually is my outlet, but lately I find myself sinking deeper and deeper into the black pit I once was freed from. My freedom has left me, has left to see if I will sink or swim, and I'm not doing either, I suppose I'm floating in an endless ocean, letting the waves push and shove me along. They take me under yet some how my lungs always find air, just as they always had. I am a survivor, and that is something I have built pride upon. 


This is poorly written but to be honest I don't care, I really do not care. 
I just want to find my light again