rude awakenings

We aren't going about this the right way. This Earth is not a resource. She is not a commodity. She lives, she breathes, she can feed us with her fruits yet we rip apart her flesh, and drink her blood. Pump her dry and leave her sighing. Sometimes I think we are a virus twisted around this globe, a puerperal parasite feeding happily upon it's host. Sometimes I'm disgusted with what humans have become. Misanthropist by nature, and so by nature I live. Forests are my friends and each tree a sleepy soul. Their groves are my heart's home, I live in the trees and they live in me. I've never been one for society, not a fan of this humanity. I've always been removed, by some force that calls me back to the wild places. I love in the spaces where many creatures live, societies of my own. No rules except that it's better to work together than to compete for the limited resources. These beings know the meanings of life. I want to live in pe

I'm trying to get back into words, back into the playful art of sentence sculpture. We have a multitude of fridge magnet words, and it's incredible what you can piece together. This is a mini poem, half fridge phrases half mind musings; Give me a smile wind child, daughter of the moon You slather the night with love, licking it fresh. you are curious, naked, in full repose. And to think. it took 3.5 billion years to build something as beautiful as you. Love is an idea, shared between two to understand the self. And I understand. More to come as I fill my hat with momentous phrases. toodaloo

I'm in a funk. Today I had time to kill so I visited my family, specifically my grandparents and my mother. To set the stage I'll need to give you some details on these people. My grandfather is 91, has Alzheimer's and mostly bumbles around the house and pretends he knows what's going on. My grandmother is 88, a chain smoker and a stubborn lady with a foul mouth. My mother is an alcoholic who is just as stubborn and just as foul mouthed as her mother. So needless to say the evening was far from enjoyable. The issue as of late is that my grandmother doesn't like the cold climate of Calgary and wants to take her son, who is a multiple stroke victim with no use of most of his body living in a care home on Vancouver Island, down to Bellingham Washington. She owns a home down there which is currently rented out to students. So her plan is to rent a house there until her home is free in July. All she seems to care about is taking care of my uncle, even though he's

It's been a while. Christmas and new year's have come and gone, now I lay at the cusp of another semester at MRU. I foresee it going better than the last, but by no means amazing. My constant struggles with socializing and lack of interest in my colleagues will forever challenge my existence, but I always get by somehow. Besides lackluster schooling other aspects of my life are peachy.  This past weekend the band 36? hosted a collaborative art explosion to design the album art from multimedia contributions of anyone interested. AKA Me and my friends spent three days sitting on newspaper, painting, smoking joints, drawing, smoking weed, collage-ing, crocheting, and of course smoking marijuana. It was an intense experience, very enjoyable, and it let me use art as a form of expression which has been lacking in my life as of late.  At the end of the three days of 'el3vatin6nature' sessions, four 6' x 6' wooden frames were filled with a crazy array of multimedia