new job coming up. thot i'd take the weekend off. hold my shit down.

meaning: cross the cultures cross the city --> bathed in radiant lights of day and street light nights

1. don real fur. skate down to the bros and the girls drinking James Ready in the hot hot hot afternoon light... some were down with the veggie burgers --> this is sorta East Village North in a way so it's all good (understood?)

2. when Nixon and I finally made it up north there to the midtown Italian - Portuguese festival, the burning ball in the sky had shifted to a sentimental circle that was bent on adding colour to the evening of Brazilian dancers, uniformed stage bands and the six blocks jammed with immigrant families, young couples and blue collar workers. the empty streetcar tracks disappeared with the curve of the hillside into the distant haze of the midtown landscape -- it was a light but thick green.

3. saw an old roommate i hadn`t talked to in years. that went pretty well. looked pretty bulky. i thought he would be a bitch to me. but he was pretty cool. but he did talk a bit in riddles, if you know what i mean. like, the way people talk to you when they have some negative opinion about you (i.e. their ego is telling them they`re better than you) but they don`t really want to tell you.

4. heard a new version of this laid back band`s wikkidist song. we had to pass through one dark bar, and head through a curtain to the back room to take in the set. the guitar screams california. the lyrics inspired. apparently the drummer holds shit together. they could be for hippies or hipsters -- and yet they wouldn`t belong to either category. somehow the tunes are crisp and marketable. you just know they don`t think they`re better than anyone -- ya know... apparently they`ve just started recording my favourite track -- and, this stoked me out, the drumbeat they just laid down is pretty damn intense, the lead singer says...

5. gathered gossip on the inner-workings of the jungle crews of the city. one of the star players in the scene is looking for a new home. *but i may have already witnessed the next step --- I talked to a powerful party promoter that`s trying to bring FG on board... that was random but nice to hear

6. met up with my womens studies girl and just chilled on her porch at like 3 a.m. or whatever. i guess she likes dubstep now. and MIA. obviously. I guess the new vid with Rye Rye is just SMOKING HOT. (i.e. the girls are smoking hot -- chillin on a couch or something). this coming from a women`s studies major.

7. made some beats. yeah.

8. and etc.

There are virtual worlds we create that lead to the things we love to love so real...

-I'm talking tossing on fav beats, soaking up dope imagery from random photogers and top notch artistes, and maybe playing home-made Flash games on sites all over. Connecting with kids through the forums. Floating.

-Passively taking in the best in overground/mainstream/analog content -- just, done up in a digital form (and free, obviously). But collecting the info FASTER. Reading MORE. And calling each writer and scene head on their BULLshit.... Learning.

-But then sometimes you want to toss it back out there. You have that unique little something -- anything -- but you know it. And then you pass it along. Toss your own samples up into the mix... Writing.

Hopefully the process is the sweetest thing -- our new rooms and homes have morphed into the online sphere.

Here's to being okay with that -- cheers!

I read this today on wholewheatwords.wordpress.com, as I finished my last day of my first year back at Ryerson. I found it by Googling this girl's name "Charlene Chae" I had written down on what I think is a Vancouver bus ticket. The blog is wholeweatwords.wordpress.com.

 

I used to have a girl with whom I’d talk about sandwiches.

 

“People who really know their sandwiches,” she said, “—sandwich gourmets—always use butter, even if they’re putting mayo on there too.”

 

Why? I asked. And sandwich gourmets? Really?

 

“Really. Keeps the bread from getting soggy,” she said.

 

Nothing worse than a soggy sandwich.

 

“Nothing.”

 

We walked across a dry concrete courtyard. It was indian summer and on campus boys and girls smoked and read books in the colourless sunlight. The grass was still brown and freezerburnt. Geometric 1970s buildings cast mathematical shadows on rounded 1960s buildings.

 

Days later, the girl decided that what we were doing wouldn’t work. Among other things we no longer would discuss sandwiches.

 

Afterwards I made sandwiches without her input.

 

It reminded me of all the kids I used to hang out with who ultimately decided they were too "cool" to spend special moments together. It made me think about how everyone has a summer they don't want to forget. And somehow I don't think I've had that yet. Somehow I think I need that. And as Erika tells me what we had together was special, but she's not ready to "go there" at least yet, I think about how badly I need to have those moments. It doesn't seem to me like Juliet is capable of going there right now. She's always sick or afraid (and that's cute, for sure) or just too busy with work and such.

 

But just as the writer did, the only thing you really can do when friends become douchebags, is just keep on trucking. Continue to enjoy your life, and the things that make it special.

So I met this girl the other day at a trendy party. Now, that would normally be an immediate turn off -- a girl who hangs out at hipster hot-spots are not usually worth your time. Seriously. I mean, I hate 80s clothing (despite the comeback its making right now), I hate little girlies preening to choppy washed up electro, and I hate how they always think they're hot shit.

But this girl was different. She was intelligent. She was ironic, yes. But she was not negative or overly sarcastic, which intrigued me. More inspiring than anything, I guess you would say.

The problem is... no I'm not too afraid to call her. It's just... well...

I think a special girl requires special moments together. And I just don't have time or $ to spend to make that happen.

One day we will reconnect. I think we both know it. I think that's why we're not really worried or anything.

And when we do it will be sweet.

But for now I will just vibe out to my day to day as I pay the bills and watch my friends pay theirs -- grabbing wings or styrofoam-tasting pizza and listening to comedians from Brooklyn or watching the odd hockey game on TV or drinking brews or chilling to some nice drum n' bass... mmmm.... tasty...

And hey, not all electro's bad either, you know. It just really has to be done right. Think Booka Shade or Deadmau5 or Apparat or David Guetta etc.

Is that what you thought you were doing? Reaching out to me? WTF.

How can you help me if you don't know what I'm going through? How can you figure out what I'm about unless you give a damn? You can't. That's the whole thing.

I just don't know what you were expecting? Like, am I supposed to ask you out on a date the first time round? Ugh. So confusing.

See: you don't understand what really makes me happy.

You just can't believe me when I try to describe the ecstasy I feel when waves of sound wash over me, with the most difficult of production and the deepest of pulses. I guess you don't get the passion that wells up inside of me, just to watch worlds collide -- kids partying together in the most random of settings, using the flows of the world for their own enjoyment and social readjustment. You don't know how much my heart goes out to the kids who can push themselves to stare into the blackness and somehow come out alive. I mean, if you checked the sublime you wished for me, would it be a visual representation of monetary flows, housing projects, underground economies, and the power of love? You don't know shit about art.

And you know what? That's okay. Because I'm not unhappy.

I just push as hard as I can towards that place I know I need to go. And I'll bring as many people along for the ride as want to join in...

So sit back and enjoy the little thing we call life.

i guess i feel like i'm about to step off of a precipice
...
it's one of those feelings where, you just know, whatever happens, things will never be quite the same again
...
but things aren't exactly perfect right now, either
...
although, at least you know what you know right now
...
i'm not going to lie
...
i'm afraid