- stars concert. the bowers of white roses strewn around the altar, the smell of hundred year-old wood, the beauty of a church lovingly crafted in a time where building it was making wiht one's hands and tools a devotion to a higher power loved since childhood. The flowers exploding from the bassist's hands every time the music crashed to a climax. The adrenaline you could smell in the air, the breathlessness that became apparent when the band surprised us with a halt and we looked around, amazed by the depth of our experience. - everytime i get high with steffylove <3 - The first time I ate indian food, at a restaurant called Le Taj in montreal, with my grandparents, mother sister favourite aunt. The second the butter chicken hit my palate every inch of my body started to sing with intoxication. Fluffy naan yielding, creamy sauce. It was the first exotic food I had ever eaten, the first liberation from my childhood terror of anything that was different. Difference in food was danger, death. I was used to avoiding anything that i was not completely sure wouldn't kill me. That first time was magical.
- Not my first kiss. That was expected, a given in the story I used to think only had one way of progressing. What really changed me was the time I went over to your house alone, shaking inside from anticipatory fear, self-defense, erika's anger still ringing in my ears. I felt so brave. When you inched your foot close to mine, sitting together on the white suede couch, I wondered if you knew what you were doing, if it was just an accident, if you were playing with me - first time feeling wanted. When they actually touched... I can't even describe the feeling that shot through me. I think I tried to look over at you, see what you were thinking. You were looking right at me with that wicked look in your eye, the one that is still there three years later. I blushed and grinned and felt loved. Haven't really stopped since. the trust the love the knowing how much you love me and the freedom - The delicious synergy of flavours and textures created by the Genious that is Chef Michael Smith. This is too soon to describe, all I can say is mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm vanilla rosemary chicken apple braised pork in my cafeteria my life is complete mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Tuesday, 02 December 2008
relapses are scary as fuck.
am i going to be like this my whole life? an indecisive trainwreck waiting to happen? i hope not.
how the hell am i supposed to go around fixing something that isn't supposed to be broken anymore?
why do i feel so disconnected, so far away like nothing matters at all like anything could happen and it wouldn't hurt me it feels like a cage of apathy that i'm stuck inside, scared and lonely.
Sunday, 02 November 2008
did i just hurt you?
i never meant it. i swear.
love --
Friday, 26 September 2008
is it strange that i feel no homesickness? that i am more alive, more vibrant, more appreciated by a greater range of people than i have felt in years?
yesterday i was unanimously voted floor representative. here, people complain when i can't show up to a party, because it's just not the same without me. not mme france's little girl, not quiet or trying too hard or a snob or a bitch or anything. people like me. not just my group of friends, or my groups of acquaintances. people i meet in the street and start conversations with. people who i see smoking shisha in the middle of the night by the water.
been asked out a whole bunch. been asked my number a whole bunch. been called up by random people that i met the night before.
and i'm still me. so am i a different me, or is it a different world?
i can put my hair in a giant orange polka-dotted mohawk and be deemed epic. i can go to the second-hand store and try on huge eighties' wedding dresses. i can dye my skin purple like i will do tomorrow and run onto a football field at halftime dressed all in violet and mosh with 700 like-minded nerds who study hard and party harder.
but i know that to people at home, looking at those pictures, not to mention the video of the nasty greasy pit i spent two hours thirty-six minutes and six seconds in trying to climb a 27 foot pole... i'm a freak.
and i don't mind all that much. at all, actually. i'll wear my gpa with pride, get the xxx bar and slam for fun. eng is here, knock back a beer.
i chose well for me. i think the difference is happiness.
all this doesn't mean i don't miss all the people likely to read this, though. yeah, you.
let's do it indian-style and smoke the peace pipe?
Wednesday, 23 July 2008
things change and stay the same. my body hurts and i can't sleep because of the pain. my heart hurts too.
silly to try to believe that things are the same. things will never be the same again.
go to bed, kat. only you can understand what you mean.
i'm trying to take time to fix myself. sorry i haven't been around much. just... easier like this. don't hurt anyone.
Sunday, 22 June 2008
If I had just one tear
Running down your cheek
Maybe I could cope
Maybe I'd get some sleep
If I had just one moment at your expense
Maybe all my misery
Would be well spent...yeaaaa
Could you cry a little
Lie just a little
Pretend that you're feeling a little more pain
I gave now I'm wanting
Something in return
So cry just a little for me
If your love could be caged, honey, I would hold the key
And conceal it underneath the pile of lies you handed me
And you'd hunt and those lies
They'd be all you'd ever find
And that'd be all you'd have to know
For me to be fine
And you'd cry a little
Die just a little
And baby I would feel just a little less pain
I gave now I'm wanting
Something in return
So cry just a little for me
Give it up baby
I hear your goodbye
Nothin's gonna save me
I see it in your eyes
Some kind of heartache
Darlin give it a try
I don't want pity
I just want what is mine
Yeah.. Could you cry a little
Lie just a little
Pretend that you're feeling a little more pain
I gave now I'm wanting
Something in return
So cry just a little for me
Cry just a little for me
Could you cry just a little for me?
