2006-09-30

I think I mentioned earlier I felt magnetic tonight.

Maestro was where I was tonight. If you don't know who maestro is I'm not going to tell you. All I have to say is I talked to Maestro. He's very cool and looks damn good for his age. He also gave me a hug. I think I needed that hug. Any hug. My friend asked me why after I had talked to him for about 30 mins I didn't get his autograph. Why would I want his name on a piece of paper, that I would surely lose, when I can sit down and talk about the dungeon that is the embassy with him? She even hit me. I didn't understand. If that makes so much sense he should have asked me for my autograph too? no.

I'm happy I went out. I didn't really want to go. I love intuition.

A small girl by the name of brooklyn who is 4 taught me a new kiss today. I love kisses. I didn't know there was a butterfly kiss. Why didn't anyone tell me that? She was adorable. Turns out she didn't know what an eskimo kiss was. I showed her. Good times with Brooklyn.

-----------------------------
This could be part two.
-----------------------------

When you discover more about yourself. I think you actually give away that much. I mean that we find there is less that actually belongs to ourselves.
Like, I, is just what I give to you, making a part of you, me. Less of me. More of all of you. Less of you in you. More of us in us. All of us, in, all of us.

On a farm, you probably won't find an empty bucket. I mean not on a busy farm anyways. You can always fill it with shit. You can then take it to a garden. Help it grow. Fertilizer, they call it.
I've mentioned I think this world works backwards. You can learn something from everybody. When I realized I was being told that everything I was doing was wrong. I then believed listening to him tell me these things was wrong. He gave me every tool I needed to build an escape. Peace be those who bring the pain. Thank you.

Katrina at 3:46 AM

2006-09-29

This is part one.

I feel magnetic today.

Like as if I am one magnet and something else is another magnet. Since, I am in front of my computer thinking about going to do something. I am (or perhaps another thing) is placing a piece of paper between two magnets. I can feel the souths presence but there is a thin line between myself(north)and the south(?).

It almost still feels like its inside when I don't talk about it.
Even when its seems sorted through in my head.
What I have done and been through and seen and heard and said, cannot be used against me.
Every moment is a breath farther away from that place.
Which is just closer to another place.
Every moment is one of growth.
But some things need to be purged.
Energy in, energy out.
I say it enough.
And have for long enough.
I never use it enough.
I think I say it because I know what energy in becomes when its not energy out.

It is 11:03pm. I will be home drunk soon enough. Then I will probably spill some drunken guts. Ahh, be happy I'm not one to drunk dial. Or you'd all be in danger.

Katrina at 10:10 PM

2006-09-28

Unrequited love ripples the soul as a boat across water
Wishing does not make love
any less
I am chasing it who is like the horizon
It reflected and glittered like a sun beam against water
While the dawn broke silently
While my eyes were closed and my dreams open
Love was just a metaphor
For closed eyes and wandering minds
A bittersweet ailment I can’t breathe without
A misery when I turn away
It not enough to feel your hands on my back
Be fully alive and ready to die
A heart slips into your hands
And down in the abyss
I followed it trying to keep an eye
A moving target of my life
Two souls bound in perfect emotion
The secrets lost inside the whirlwind
I am not lost it is you that hides
I am the mild mannered moon
Casting generous light on the black dove
Catering to swallows
I want to feel the flowers blooming
When the wind is warm and the sun is high
Peace enough to hear a butterfly sigh
But your music plays in the tune of my existence
And right now is so loud I cannot take it in

This is the poem I chose to put on poetry thursday this week. It was written a while ago. The topic was synesthesia. I think most poems are synesthetic(? is that a word). Most writing is synesthetic. Especially for a reader. It's so easy to be reminded of something. Like today, It smells like autumn outside. Which almost smells like winter but seems more..electric? I love autumn. It reminds me of something and nothing all simultaneously. So really I am saying it gives me this really awesome feeling and makes me want to think things and do things but I never know what exactly it is. I was born when autumn is just climaxing. Which reminds me I am going trick or treating again this year. I can't stop. It's a need far bigger than anything else. I figure if I go out in a mask this year no one will even notice. I've met 13 year old kids bigger than I am. I think I just might round up a group of children to take with me.
Speaking of children, my friend has two. She was online last week and said she was bored. I told her if she was bored her children were probably ready to kill themselves. I suggested art. Kids love it. Especially if its messy. Not too mention, It really does help all of you in the long run.
I've never understood some parents for that reason. It's like they have children and after the novelty wears off they only give children somewhere to live and something to eat. What's the point in having children if you aren't going to play with them? I would want my children to play with me.
Parents brought there children to childreach at the sum of who knows what a week to have someone else play with their children. Alot of these parents were of single income homes but married or common law. Which left mom at home and also putting out money to have someone else play with her kids. Why? I know there are good outcomes to putting your children in a decent daycare before they begin school. Its aiding in the transition and makes for a more social and accepting child but out of laziness is just bogus. Especially if they come home to the materializing of all this sitting on the couch.
Then in years of adolescence we think we lose sight of our children when really we never actually seen who they were in the first place.
This is bullshit.
I'm not a mom.
What do I know?
I wish I knew.
What does it take to 'know' someone?
The people I thought I knew I never really knew at all.

Katrina at 10:01 PM

I came across this just now and it kind of relates to the book i just finished. I think I said the book fell into my lap at the same time I was thinking about the ideas in it and the same goes now for this guy. Well at least some of the things he says. I also wonder if it makes a difference how loud the noise is in his experiments. I wonder how loud the real world is too. How loud the humming wavelengths are that we don't think we hear. Oh, but we hear them. If you listen they will tell you things. Like what to do next. Or better yet, what will happen next.

David Icke

Katrina at 5:58 PM

Katrina at 7:12 AM

2006-09-27

Theres a dream that I see I pray it can be
Look cross the land shake this land
A wish or a command
I Dream that I see dont kill it its free
Youre just a man you get what you can
We all do what we can
So we can do just one more thing
We can all be free
Maybe not in words
Maybe not with a look
But with your mind
Listen to me dont walk that street
Theres always an end to it
Come and be free you know who I am
Were just living people
We wont have a thing
So wed got nothing to lose
We can all be free
Maybe not with words
Maybe not with a look
But with your mind
Youve got to choose a wish or command
At the turn of the tide is withering thee
Remember one thing the dream you can see
Pray to be shake this land
We all do what we can
So we can do just one more thing
We wont have a thing
So weve got nothing to lose
We can all be free
Maybe not with words
Maybe not with a look
But with your mind
But with your mind

-cat power

Katrina at 6:03 AM

I finished two books. metamorphosis by franz kafka and as a man thinketh by james allen. Both are good. metamorphosis is a little emotionally disturbing at times and is also a great metaphor on a whole. Think 'The fly'with a little less jeff goldblum and early 1900 style.
As a man thinketh tells us we are our thoughts. yup. I guess that book is considered self help nowadays. It's pretty good. It kind of seemed like the book fell into my lap at the right time when I was thinking the exact same things that the book talks about. I love it when that happens.
I should have read siddhartha by herman hesse years ago but I didn't. What a poor excuse. I started it tonight.
What a boring entry.

Typical Katrina style.

Katrina at 4:20 AM

2006-09-26

Finally, It all makes sense...

Katrina at 3:15 AM

2006-09-25

A stream of consciousness

stop
red
blood
wound
heal
time
space
build
people
intuitive
know
unknown
fear
death
life
birth
eyes
blink
breathe
lung
cancer
cigarette
smoke
fire
water
bridge
boat
paddle
smack
bruise
blood
skin
burn
fever
sick
medicine
doctor
nurse
white
shoppers
hair dye
fake
make up
costumes
theatre
script
movie
director
chair
table
food
drink
drunk
stumble
fall
......
It felt good to get that out.

Katrina at 11:20 PM

2006-09-24

He held the world in psychedelic fingers but the reality of them, all turned up, illusion....

I went to a party on friday. Sarnia on saturday for another party. It was a party hardy weekend. Talked to some people that were too logical for my illogical tastes. Talked to some people too illogical for my pieces that cling to logic. I saw some people I haven't seen since highschool at Sarahs house.
People love the past(I think I am also in the 'people' category). They eat it up like sliced meats, cheese and crackers at a reunion. They just can't wait. It's almost like being attacked in a comforting kind of way.
All in all it was productive. Lisas mom is a crazy crazy funny lady. Crazy. Funny. My favourite qualities in an alien.
I'd like to talk about romantic relationships gone sour here....
3+20= The sum of the weekend.
Its your life, but its our world....

with teeth,
me

Katrina at 11:58 PM

2006-09-23

FREUD TOWN A.C.

Devil say I am an unlocated.
Window of myself devil.
say Nobody sit.
There nobody light.
the lamp devil.
Say one glimpse of it.
From outside do the trick do.
The trick devil.
Say smell this devil say.
Raw bones devil say the mind.
Is an alien guest I say.
Devil outlived devil in.

Perhaps, I know where my devils sleep. Perhaps, I know where they roam. Perhaps, I know where they find they rocks, to throw against our home.

Your devils, unbeknowst to me. Stare mine down at night. Perhaps, they fight. Perhaps, they are right.

Katrina at 4:14 AM

The beat to this song , I won't forget.
Ya, I'll remember you otherwise.

So, anyways, if you go to a party. You should know how they work. Beautiful things they are.
People, they is.
:)
I can only hope you remember me too.

Katrina at 2:30 AM

2006-09-22

Katrina at 6:36 AM

It's 4:18am. I can't sleep. In that, I will make you suffer. There is, strangely, therapy in pain. Alot in life cannot be taught with words and cannot be learned without pain. I don't even know if that makes sense...Anyways, the point is...embrace the late night blather.
I think I'm just going to write about why I am awake. Hopefully, it will help put me to sleep. Sorry.
(val, I keep leaving you messages in my blog, talk about geek. this might be of interest to you in the end part)

Incoming!!!!!!!!

I was thinking about how memories are like pictures.
A continuous reel of pictures. Then I thought of tv. then how the tv works which is kind of like how an eye works.
Then I thought, we are conditioned to use our eyes in conjunction with the memories that come along with it. For Instance, Your mother is the person who shows you and tells you about a crockpot. You learn this is a crockpot. You learn it slow cooks tasty all in one dishes. Like stews. Like pulled pork. Roasts, Or small children (oops..backspace...backspace is broken). Someone taught that to your mother and her mother and before that there probably was no crockpot...what a bad example.
You remember what something is because of the picture you got along with some words, but if she had taught you it was a sock warmer, and she warmed socks with it, you'd probably only wonder why it's called a crockpot...why is it called a crockpot?

Its the limbic system, the brains emotional centre, it makes each of us like a plug-in of the crowd.
We believe things to be true because other people say so. (I admit. I have to be up in an hour and I have no idea what I'm talking about, the crock pot thing I should delete. silly backspace.) When someone comes up with something new and unheard of it makes sense because it's almost as if we already knew. It just never raised a question. At that point, we claim to have all thought about it.
I wonder if we all had our own realities, what fun it would be, instead of this collective.

My badbum question is where does reality reside?

I think that we think our outside world is real. Maybe, it was just one animals perception passed down.
Even more, maybe this perception IS my own and part of it is thinking that you are a separate person inside. Maybe, you are just a piece of me.
This world works backwards. I swear it. So then, anyways, If I feel it to be true, that it all comes from inside then how come I can't sleep? Why am I so worried about what is outside after being so darn sure it comes from inside...because Jenny, I may not be a smart man but I know what love is?
No.
Damn these demons, other pieces of me, they poke me with sticks in the night.

I think also, it could be that I don't see a point in nothing. I also don't see a point in something. I am stuck here. No faith. No death. No life as I had once thought it would be. Is that not a big superfreak? Spending at least 17 of your early life looking forward to something that turned out absolutely no different aside from the experiences and the thoughts and growth that came along with those experiences? Call me naive but I was expecting something more. I now see. As great as it is. I was waiting to realize...

THERE IS NO EFFING MEMO!
*sigh, far too much energy wasted.

Which reminds me I still need to get to my post on old age. I caught a documentary tonight about a old age home. If you don't know what that is it's a place where young people put old people because they don't realize that old people are still human. So they kind of shove them together and surround them with four walls and wait for them to die. One by one. Sometimes nurses will drug them and then laugh about them with their co-workers. This I have seen.
Thats pretty much how I feel about them anyways. There is only one exception to that thought of mine....another post.

I'm hoping you all didn't get this far...don't tell me you were expecting something more.

Katrina at 4:24 AM

2006-09-21

I remembered this as I was doing the dishes and I felt I had to write about it.
I'm calling it the anthropology of water.
or one of these...
Aegyptus had 50 sons.
Danaos had 50 daughters.
Oh, the irony.
Damn me and my feeble mind.


Water must be held in something other than your hands. You cannot hold it. You'll notice it slips through places where you thought were seamless. Like people. I have tried. All took themselves out of my palms. This perhaps is how it should be. What - If I remember - anthropologists call 'normal dangers' in the idea of encountering alien cultures. I remember the friend who first taught me about that. He over-emphasized using the word encounter instead of discovery when he was talking about it. I remember:
'Think of it as the difference between believing what you want to believe and believing what can be proven"
I thought about it. Actually, for far too long. I should have just spoken my mind. I said I don't want to believe anything (lying) and I have nothing to prove(lying again). I just want to travel into the world I see as 'reality', and stop, noticing whats under the sky (this is, indeed still, the truth).
Cruelly then, he mentions something about a culture he had studied in his 3rd year where true virgins and false virgins are identified by a water ordeal. Apparently, an intact virgin can dive deep into water but a woman who has known love will drown. Sounds like a risky testing procedure, but anyways.
Ignorantly, I said something along the lines of I'm not interested in true and false(the incoming is a proven point of my once(probably still) ignorant nature. Once you realize you're a tool you find yourself looking for other places you shone so brightly as such and then you have THE why water will find the cracks in what seems so seamless)
I wanted to ask him other things, because he is so good at keeping me grounded, but my inhibitions took over for some reason. I wanted to ask him the difference between heaven and hell. I didn't, I ended up telling him the story of Danaos and his daughters.
Quickly, Danaos was this hero in greek myth who had 50 daughters. They loved him so much, it was almost as if each was a part of his body. When he would stir in bed they would wake up and go to him. They grew up and when it was time to marry. Danaos found 50 bridegrooms ( 50 boys of Aegyptus). Set the day, married them...blah blah. At midnight on the wedding day, 50 doors closed simultaneously. Then a terrible encounter took place. 49/50 of the daughters had a knife in their thighs and stabbed her bridegroom to death. (the 50 bridegrooms had planned on killing the brides anyways...).
This archetypal crime of women was rewarded by the gods with a kind of paradigmatic punishment. They were sent to hell and sentenced to spend eternity gathering water in a sieve.
What happened to the other daughter? It was never confirmed.

Lets just say, the water was deep.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Edit:

In the foreground a half-barren tree
speaks louder than that sky
whose wind screams mercilessly in my ears
and the leaves are falling from the tree
but its bark makes not a sound.

Katrina at 5:19 PM

Serial Joe-Mistake

comic relief.
I remember watching these guys get bottled on stage in 1999. Geek tragedy.

Katrina at 4:02 PM

NIN - The Perfect Drug

beauty in the box

Katrina at 3:56 PM

Bad as it seems - Hayden

You know you love it.

Katrina at 3:37 PM

2006-09-20

"-(the f(r)ighteningly beautiful utopia of codependency).
Lost and found of the self in love. Hate comes from a love ideal, unachievable."

Chris Sandon updated finally.
www.chrissandon.com

Katrina at 4:20 PM

2006-09-19

rachael and the tattoo.

























'if we pick them
we'll pick by guessing
white chrysanthemums
when frost has first settled
and decieves the eye"
-mitsune

One morning words were missing. Before that, words were not. Facts were, faces were. In a good story, aristotle tells us, everything that happens is pushed by something else. For Instance, three women were bending in the fields. What use is it to question us? they said. Well it shortly became clear that they knew everything there was to know about snowy fields and those blue-green shoots that come up in late spring and a plant called 'audacity' which apparently poets mistake for violets. The little ticks in forms of questions construct an instant of nature gradually, without any boredom of a story.
I try to avoid it. Boredom, that is.
It is the task of a lifetime. You can never know enough, never work enough, never use the infinitives and participles oddly enough, never leave the mind quickly enough.

In each of you I draw, it's wrong but I do it. I find, beneath the pencil scratches, radioactive material.
Do you think 9 miles is down far enough?
16 miles?
195 miles?
They are of course, my own scratches.

Faces
I once thought sharp blades
the way they pointed them at me
and waited
a hunter is someone who listens
so hard to its prey
that silence pulls the weapon
out of its hand
and wounds only itself

To Singapore and Toronto.
Good Morning or Night.

Katrina at 11:23 PM

mimnermos

In the offing he sees old age.

Yes, lovely one it's forever today now what's that shadow unzipping
your every childfingered wherefrom?

for poor tithonos.

They (on the one hand) made his chilly tears immortal
neglecting to tell him
his eyes were not.

He gazes perhaps he blames.

Sweat. It's just sweat. But I do like to look at them.
Youth is a dream where I go everynight and wake with
just this little jumping bunch of arteries
in my hand.
Hard, darling, to be sent behind their borders.
Carrying a stone in each eye.

Katrina at 10:52 PM

To watch a game you quit playing because it caused more trouble than good..
is like still playing the game, but you can never win because you're not playing. Which is to say you won't lose either. You just kind of observe the energy and must take it in because you have no other option but to quit. You don't quit because you aren't playing. Quitting is an end to those in the game but they don't realize it's just a new beginning. Perhaps, with no game if they played their cards right this hand.
That same person still playing the game while you watch, is probably the same person who went for the coolest playing piece in monopoly. The same person that avoided the iron(y).
The same person transfixed on the game, in which, they are in the dark about what they are playing for. Perhaps, playing for the dark. Now anyways, they just play. You sit idle and laugh while they lose boardwalk and parkplace. They didn't need it anyways with 4 hotels on north carolina and the likes? I wonder what they fight for?
One is good and one is bad but none of it is true.

Katrina at 2:49 PM

A taste of India

I went out with a friend for drinks and dinner tonight. Hilarity ensued. We were on topic so I asked him to mesh monkeys and lamp shades into a point relative to his existence. He did it. Really, really well might I add. The whole rant was extremely funny but the funniest part was his wisdom for life at the end. 'Humans are like monkeys because we want light but we cover it with a lamp shade'. It was the end because by that point I was laughing so hard I think half the people in the symposium left. On a different note: a taste of India is a really great restaurant.

I was drab like the weather today, but like the rain I was consistent about it.

I think it was Harry Truman that said 'if you can't convince them confuse them'.
I also believe it was Diana Black who said 'a big ego is a shield for alot of empty space'.
Maynard said 'He had alot to say. He had alot of nothing to say. Well miss him.'
A paranoid is someone who knows little of whats going on.
Seriousness is the only refuge of the shallow.
and finally.
Witty sayings prove nothing.

and I have nothing to prove. Or do I?
Such a funny thing, really.

When you are insecure you tend to be perceived incorrectly. I wonder who's problem this is in that certain situation. Ones for being insecure, feeling incompetent and seemingly undeserving, or twos, for being pretentious, self-absorbed and numb in emotive areas. Two creates a shadow over one and one is far too dependent on that shadow. While, one is the perfect concave for for two, two is a nice convex for one. Although, constant friction of the rubbing when both lean into each other will only cause erosion. So, whats more?
I don't know thats as far as I got, then the phone rang. There must be more important things to do. Like, count magnets in other peoples kitchens from my bedroom window, play beer caps alone until I pass out or count the fibers in my carpet.
Pack, pack, packin' the bags. We all like packin' when we play with...

Someone sign me.

Katrina at 12:00 AM

2006-09-18

Letter 6

And again for those who screamed encore (I could be standing alone).

'Why don't you think of him as the one who is coming, who has been approaching from all eternity, the one who will someday arrive, the ultimate fruit of a tree whose leaves we are? What keeps you from projecting his birth into the ages that are coming into existence, and living your life as a painful and lovely day in the history of a great pregnancy? Don't you see how everything that happens is again and again a beginning, and couldn't it be His beginning, since, in itself, starting is always so beautiful? If he is the most perfect one, must not what is less perfect precede him, so that he can choose himself out of fullness and superabundance? - Must not he be the last one, so that he can include everything in himself, and what meaning would we have if he whom we are longing for has already existed?'

Val - Check your email. warning: it took me an hour so it should be a doozy.

Katrina at 2:15 AM

2006-09-17

Letter 8

Taken from letter 8 of letters to a young poet.
http://www.sfgoth.com/~immanis/rilke/letter1.html

"It seems to me that almost all our sadnesses are moments of tension, which we feel as paralysis because we no longer hear our astonished emotions living. Because we are alone with the unfamiliar presence that has entered us; because everything we trust and are used to is for a moment taken away from us; because we stand in the midst of a transition where we cannot remain standing. That is why the sadness passes: the new presence inside us, the presence that has been added, has entered our heart, has gone into its innermost chamber and is no longer even there, - is already in our bloodstream. And we don't know what it was. We could easily be made to believe that nothing happened, and yet we have changed, as a house that a guest has entered changes. We can't say who has come, perhaps we will never know, but many signs indicate that the future enters us in this way in order to be transformed in us, long before it happens. And that is why it is so important to be solitary and attentive when one is sad: because the seemingly uneventful and motionless moment when our future steps into us is so much closer to life than that other loud and accidental point of time when it happens to us as if from outside. The quieter we are, the more patient and open we are in our sadnesses, the more deeply and serenely the new presence can enter us, and the more we can make it our own, the more it becomes our fate; and later on, when it "happens" (that is, steps forth out of us to other people), we will feel related and close to it in our innermost being. And that is necessary. It is necessary - and toward this point our development will move, little by little - that nothing alien happen to us, but only what has long been our own. People have already had to rethink so many concepts of motion; and they ill also gradually come to realize that what we call fate does not come into us from the outside, but emerges from us. It is only because so many people have not absorbed and transformed their fates while they were living in them that they have not realized what was emerging from them; it was so alien to them that they have not realized what was emerging from them; it was so alien to them that, in their confusion and fear, they thought it must have entered them at the very moment they became aware of it, for they swore they had never before found anything like that inside them. Just as people for a long time had a wrong idea about the sun's motion, they are even now wrong about the motion of what is to come.

The future stands still, dear Mr. Kappus, but we move in infinite space."

Still one my favourite reads. Full of lovely feeling to help you when you find yourself drifting into numb.

Katrina at 11:35 PM

This is an ode to Rainer Maria Rilke

Self-Portrait

The steadfastness of generations of nobility
shows in the curving lines that form the eyebrows.
And the blue eyes still show traces of childhood fears
and of humility here and there, not of a servant's,
yet of one who serves obediantly, and of a woman.
The mouth formed as a mouth, large and accurate,
not given to long phrases, but to express
persuasively what is right. The forehead without guile
and favoring the shadows of quiet downward gazing.


This, as a coherent whole, only casually observed;
never as yet tried in suffering or succeeding,
held together for an enduring fulfillment,
yet so as if for times to come, out of these scattered things,
something serious and lasting were being planned.

What survives?

Who says that all must vanish?
Who knows, perhaps the flight
of the bird you wound remains,
and perhaps flowers survive
caresses in us, in their ground.
It isn't the gesture that lasts,
but it dresses you again in gold
armor -from breast to knees-
and the battle was so pure
an Angel wears it after you.

Telling you all

Telling you all would take too long.
Besides, we read in the Bible
how the good is harmful
and how misfortune is good.
Let's invite something new
by unifying our silences;
if, then and there, we advance,
we'll know it soon enough.
And yet towards evening,
when his memory is persistent,
one belated curiousity
stops him before the mirror.
We don't know if he is frightened.
But he stays, he is engrossed,and,
facing his reflection,
transports himself somewhere else.

On Hearing of a Death

We lack all knowledge of this parting. Death
does not deal with us. We have no reason
to show death admiration, love or hate;
his mask of feigned tragic lament gives us
a false impression. The world's stage is still
filled with roles which we play. While we worry
that our performances may not please,
death also performs, although to no applause.
But as you left us, there broke upon this stage
a glimpse of reality, shown through the slight
opening through which you dissapeared: green,
evergreen, bathed in sunlight, actual woods.
We keep on playiing, still anxious, our difficult roles
declaiming, accompanied by matching gestures
as required. But your presence so suddenly
removed from our midst and from our play, at times
overcomes us like a sense of that other
reality: yours, that we are so overwhelmed
and play our actual lives instead of the performance,
forgetting altogehter the applause.

Katrina at 10:58 PM

The best one

I've heard alot. Not always to me directly. Sometimes I overhear them. Sometimes you have competitions with your friends to see who can come up with the best one. This one was said to me tonight, it almost convinced me...but not quite.

no name guy: "If you're name was homework, I'd go home early to do you"
me: "wow"

yes. It was that sad.

Katrina at 2:15 AM

2006-09-16

input

3 blogs down. the post about death/birth/my silly rant. I had someone send me a comment on it. I am not sure how exactly it relates because I haven't thought about it since but its relative and I feel like if I thought about it I am sure I could change the theory a bit and incorporate it into the cycle

"oh i was just about to go to bed when i thought of something ... right before people die they are a lot like parasites too. living off of feeding machines or the help of doctors and nurses (or sometimes other family members)when they are too weak or their memory is gone. it sounds kind of mean to think of it like that but really they are a living organism just living off someone or something else." -Sarah

Yeah, old age...thats going to be my next post.

Katrina at 12:30 PM

boys with breath control

I found another one.

Most already know...I have something with boys and the flute. I don't know what its all about and I don't care but it makes me smile. I thought this one could pass even though its not a flute but because he has his nose pierced, neat hair and he's still playing a wind instrument (he kind of looks like the guy that played legolas in lord of the rings too). I'm easy to please. It's a nice picture. I wanna call him the pied piper but its already aptly named 'Hamelin's first' by
*VladimirBorowicz http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/39842386/

I have this feeling I'll end up spending my life with the type of person I most avoid.
I need to stop that, Or, surely I'll end up fucking myself

Katrina at 12:40 AM

2006-09-15

free falling

If you have ever jumped off the highest diving platform at the aquatic centre you will know what I'm talking about. I went on the super shot or something like that at the fair tonight. It's like the drop zone at canandas wonderland. Waiting in line I knew it was gonna be freaky but I didn't know it was going to feel like free falling off a cliff or something. I think I am now afraid to take a plane because I can assume it would feel the same for longer if one were to plummit. I have to laugh now in movies when they show the hero walking around on a plane trying to fix things or give people parachutes in the middle of this falling sequence because no...that would never be possible. I have never screamed on a ride. I screamed like a bitch. It feels like jumping off the highest platform at the aquatic center times about 5 and having it last about 3 seconds longer. It was scary. I didn't like that feeling. I now have a rival with the worst death...It's a war between drowning and falling. yup. getting shot would kinda suck too. actually any death other than in sleep would suck. actually. whatever.
I haven't had cotton candy in about 3 years either. I forgot how tasty that stuff was. I wish the world was made of it but that nothing got sticky.

There is an inside voice. It gives you options. some are 'good' some are 'bad' and some are the truth. You have no choice whether or not you listen. You do have the choice regarding which voice you sing with. No matter which you pick that is the voice that people hear. When you walk away from someone you always leave them with a memory. Memories are alot of who we are. What you leave with them is who you essentially are to them. Spread the love.

“In the world through which I travel, I am endlessly creating myself.”
-Fanon
"My choice is what I choose to do, and if I'm causing no harm, then it shouldn't bother you.
Your choice is who you choose to be, and if you're causin' no harm, then you're alright with me."
-Ben Harper (smokin' the ganj)

Katrina at 11:19 PM

This is probably a blog for kate or someone of that kind.

DEAR DIARY:

Today I started my period. My mom showed me how to use a sanitary napkin. It was embarassing. At recess today kellen (my crush) was whispering to tommy scriver. I think he was talking about me. I wonder if he'll ask me out...
I'm sorry I forgot it was 2006 not 1994 anymore. A girl can dream can't she?

A quote from Childhood and Adolescence by someone who I forget (although I'm staring at the book) OR someone I care not to mention. Followed by my silly rant that probably won't make sense but things are ticking and I'm a bit stoned and I think it could go somewhere. I also think it's the weed talking. So, if it makes no sense smack me with some heat next time you talk to me.
"The birth cry marks the baby's first breath and serves as a boundary between his former waterborne, parasitic existence and his status as an air-breathing, separate organism. He is still attached to his mother by his umbilical cord, but this has ceased functioning as a life line and will shortly be clamped off and severed - a painless operation. "

WHOA! AMAZING! (sorry)
ok
so
I used to volunteer at chilreach until I thought I had learned some things from the kids and decided the next part in my learning at that point was to talk with some old people. I ended up talking with beautiful old people (you may call them crazy,schizo, bi polar, suicidal, Autistic, manic, dis-associated, delusional, disordered, retarded, fucked up whatever. They are the only people I know that actually and literally speak their minds. )
So, Now I decided to study some childhood issues again but I won't be finished with the wise ones anytime soon. Anyways, I am reading this book I found, it's old and silly to read but I thought about something when I read that paragraph.
I don't like the fact that they kept it so coldly fundamental but I guess thats how it goes. I kind of appreciate it in this instance because it kind of put something into a simple perspective.

Simplicity is fantastic. People can absorb more when you can say it with less words. Words just waste time.

As it says, birth is a process leading from 'parasite' to 'separate organism'. So is birth even birth at all. or is it death and then birth. or is it rebirth?

birth (bûrth) n.
The emergence and separation of offspring from the body of the mother.
The act or process of bearing young; parturition: the mare's second birth.
The circumstances or conditions relating to this event, as its time or location: an incident that took place before my birth; a Bostonian by birth.
The set of characteristics or circumstances received from one's ancestors; inheritance: strong-willed by birth; acquired their wealth through birth.
Origin; extraction: of Swedish birth; of humble birth.
Noble or high status: persons of birth.
A beginning or commencement.

oh no, Ive gone crosseyed and the word birth has lost meaning.

Now, call me crazy but in there it says nothing about birth being a transition from one form of life into another. Yes, from one place to another (in body to out of body). Parasite and organism. I could be very wrong. I could be crappy in explaining my points. A parasite is a organism living off a host neither killing or helping it and an organism is a living thing. Kind of similar in the fact that they are organisms but still different things. They are different things in a matter of seconds, from a science point of view. So, it can't be birth in the way this book explains because it talks of transition. So, rebirth? If it's rebirth then it must have happened before and when was the first time, conception? but the egg and sperm are two separate things and if a parasite to separate organism is birth than egg and sperm union must be birth. and if birth is the transition from something else then obviously the egg had a birth and the sperm had a birth....you see where im going.
so if its continuous rebirth or beginning, then the end of the transient must have had to of passed each time and that would be death. So, life must be a transient stage before the death and rebirth of life in another form? Always more each time (or less and smaller depending on how you look at it) So death is just the transient stage into life and life is just transience into death but life and death are different everytime. I mean living in a womb for 9 months is a pretty different world I would assume, I can do that because I've been there I just don't remember. Not to mention, It's full of growth and change...kind of reminds me of now.
So, maybe I shouldn't be putting it all into parts. Maybe it is actually the complete opposite and it is all the same and just runs its course infinitely. That maybe these things aren't constant rebirths and deaths but constant change and evolution. Which would fit nicely with the chaos theory in a way. It's all coming back to cycles lately though. Everything is cycling and spinning and moving down the spiral. Everything comes from nothing but something and all the ends are just beginnings.
I sound like a fool. This I am aware of. It was just a thought people please don't stone me. They are all I have.
I'll end this now but its just the beginning.

Im going to have a bazaar for maybe a rehab institution or something and call it 'Katrinkets thrifty treasures'. Ok, that might not happen but it would be cool if I made it happen.

My best friend from public school told me that I told her in the 90's that my favorite song was karma police by radiohead. The problem with losing or drifting from old good friends is that you lose the memories only they can remind you of. This makes your life seem shorter. Try to remember more by doing things out of the ordinary. Like calling an old friend.

p.s
In my life, the people I've loved the most are the people I don't think I know anything about.
The things I run from are what I should stick to for at least a little longer.
I never wait for harvest.
I talk of the roads I've taken as if at times it been different but really it's all one road the landscape just changes.
If you leave the house good things always happen.

p.p.s
Bittersweet symphony reminds me of winter and sitting on a bus. It gives me a feeling of anxiety when I hear it. As if I need to be somewhere else. Want to go somewhere? Anywhere?

Peace.

Katrina at 12:02 AM

2006-09-14

Today

Katrina at 10:07 PM

Watching the human comedy

This begins with me venting. Ends in positive energy. Thats how I roll. I have the negative but I never expect you to receive the negative. So I try to roll it in love and send it packing afterwards. When you finish the hard stuff it makes the easy stuff sugar and pancakes(?). I never know what I'm talking about. It's pointless for you to try figure it out.

My boss for the carnie job has a wooden leg. If I wasn't allergic to violence I would have beaten him with it by now. Thank my lucky stars it's only a 10 day long journey through the depths of hell or I would have quit. Today, since his piece of tree prevents his leg from bending, I had to pick up this chunk of pork he dropped on a greasy/dirty floor in our trailer. Me, being a somewhat decent human being I picked it up all the while thinking I was to throw it out and as I go to do so I am grabbed by a gross hand on my upper arm. 'Give it here'. 'ok' I say. He proceeds to cook it on the grill.
After I swallowed the vomit in my mouth. 4 people are in line waiting for food. I just looked at them. They looked at me and then him. His little pool of spit in the corner of his mouth. His soriasis (sp?) scalp bleeding. They cringed and walked away. I said, 'Your amazing customer service skills have exceeded my expectations, but if you want me to stay I'm going to have to throw that out'. He said 'If you waste my food I'll take if off your pay and watch your mouth or you'll be out of a job'. Pardon me? Out of a job? I have two and you have a back bacon joint where everything is sold fresh off the floor in hopes to save money. I couldn't help but wonder why I needed this second job at all. I really don't at all. I am doing a friend a favour. I never question friends. I should have wondered why she wouldn't work for her own father. Now I am thankful the apple fell so far from the tree. This is just this mornings events. There was the time when he asked me if 45 minutes was enough time to make love. Gross. I mean no respect for anyone but himself and I think I'm being nice.
I also work with a woman on very illicit drugs that keeps taking money and I watch her do it. Im almost excited that she's taking the money. I'd almost rather her with a fix than him with anymore dirty pork.
I don't know if I'll go tomorrow other than to say I want to come back only to get my pay. Really the most egocentric fleshbag of a human being I've ever met. I didn't know people could be so self involved. Call me naive. Most just pretend. At least thats kind of respectable. At least they see there might be an underlaying issue.

Anyways, Kate needs lots of hugs. If you see her make the connection.

----------------------------------------
My feet live to feel life in that unused path
The past is gone
And these feet have no choice
But to reclaim their virginity
Clean slate amongst old soles
----------------------------------------
Unrequited love ripples the soul as a boat across water
Wishing does not make love any less
I am chasing a love like the horizon
It reflected and glittered like a sun beam against water
While the dawn broke silently
While my eyes were closed and my dreams open
Love was just a metaphor
For closed eyes and wandering minds
A bittersweet ailment I can’t breathe without
A misery when I turn away
It not enough to feel your hands on my back
I want to hear the children laugh at death
Be fully alive and ready to die
A heart slips into your hands
down in the abyss
I followed it trying to keep an eye
A moving target of my life
Two souls bound in perfect emotion
The secrets lost inside the whirlwind
Am I not lost is it you that hides
I am the mild mannered moon
Casting generous light on the black dove
Catering to swallows
I want to feel the flowers blooming
When the wind is warm and the sun is high
Peace enough to hear a butterfly
But your music plays in the tune of my existence
And now is much too loud
-----------------------------------------------

Watching the venus creature of desire
Swim the infinite sea of reflection
The mirror of lavender dreamers
Landscapes of thoughts
Confined to a weak heart
Burning words from a torch
The stuttering silence
Stifles the lungs, urges not to forward a lyric
A song can be sung even when quiet speaks
A martyr for the lonliness
Waiting
The birds melting away with the snow
Sad melodies and grey days that seem so still
Quick came the weariness, so embracing without choice – no!
The sun moves from left to right and says goodbye – no!
Ignite the golden stars that were stolen from the shadows
Drops falling from the feathers of the lashes
Even the sheets are binding in the night
The death of all these inquisitions
The death of life is perfect
The absence of all thought
No longer under the reign of deceiving immortality
The black debris and gorgeous tradgedies
The Cinderella scapegoat
God sat on his hands and the radio was a saviour
Humming along to the gridlock of thoughts
When the dark is heavy one sings before they die
The sweet song of unattachment
My adagio. My Love.
My fear is all that stands
Between me and a killjoy.
----------------------------------------

end note:

'Beauty is unbearable...offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should like to stretch over the whole of time'
'A guilty conscience needs to confess. A work of art is a confession'
-canon law

Don't wait. Just do it.

Cheers

Katrina at 12:52 AM

2006-09-13

I was next in line that meant I was invisible

Two things I want you to remember.
conjunctivitis of the soul is a good thing.
if you are captain you can sail to the stars.

I had a cold chill of nostalgia today. It kind of made me feel sick. I was watching derrick and rosie talk before we left for home after work today. They have been married for 14 years. 3 kids. Now most of you know I was with mike for 6 and some years. Devastating in hindsight. Anyways, I remember the look and mannerisms of mike when he would say things condescending-like in hopes to prove a point and miss starting a war in its place. Sick looking. The evil chuckle while he spoke as if he wasnt serious enough to care but this is how to repress. Let's all pretend everythings ok. Which is to me exactly what they reminded me of. My/his energy being wasted into beating around the bush and forgetting that perhaps the problem isn't with the other person at all. When every word that leaves your tongue and enters your ear is negative, brutal to the inside. I never noticed. I just played the hands. The issues I must have left him with are probably tragic seeing as I'm constantly running from those types of pictures now. I don't even think I should leave myself with so much credit. Credit or Blame?
I'm the first to admit I don't know jack. I surely didn't at 16. I suppose in asking the questions I lived into the answers.
Grow. Just be sure to notice when you are covered in air tight shrink wrap and can't breathe Some things aren't as obvious as they seem later.

I have received news it is roadtrip time on the 28th. This time its New brunswick. Should be terribly amusing. As are all roadtrips. I remember when Scott and I found balls falls on our Niagara falls and surrounding area roadtrip. That was such a nice place for a doobie and a conversation.

The roadtrip inside is scenery and pedestrians. Never the person driving. She's despensible and invisible. This means she still gets hurt.

Katrina at 1:47 AM

2006-09-12

4:41am sept 12, 2006

The most ridiculous post ever follows...this is my tired blabber I thinkis worth while. In being worth while maybe I should post somethingun-worthwwhil and then and only then would I worth anything...but I don't care to be. Let me finish tomorrow.
this is just a recap.


Time. What does it matter? Am I tired because I'm awake too much or am I tired because I think I am sleeping too much? Anyways, I love you...

Am I strange because I want people to listen to me but ask people 'do you need to vent?' when they start talking? I think so. Tell me what the difference between hate and love is... If you think you know perhaps you are perfect...or perhaps the most wrong since...( if you are unsure about this paragraph see me before you go off exclaiming what a 'stupido' I am or callling me a 'tula' because frankly I like conversations that see through the ignorance you and I both hold against each other )

This also makes sense if you were one of us present.
I drink after work at the fair which is for the next 6 days and the woman who got me this second job is Ida my mothers friend. The issue with older people I find alot of time is the fact that they seem to think they are held above some beautiful white ribbon of perfection that I must work my way through but never will because the steal is rubber and bends as people move(???) I received a 400 dollar bonus today just for being there for 4 days consecutively(sp?). Isnt that what work is? Is life so tumultuous for others? Do enough people actually choose to fuck off rather than work for him in order to make myself seem so appealing? My Boss could be a tard.

Also,

My boss likes my tits. If you knew him you'd know. Thank you Chris for seeing me through these times of woe. I appreciate you're respect and love without these things I would have made trouble for myslef beyond belief...thank you.(haha, all for you if you want it..I mean want tit? okay okay, no im kidding...ok no im not)


did you know that it could always be worse? I did, but I always forget.

People are beautiful assholes. The most lovely in fact. It's matter of time before they notice....
It late and I'm tired maybe a better update tomorrow. this one endures the bukakke.

Katarina witt
( I wish I could fiurgure skate better than cheap 80's tunes on hi-pitch and a bad reverse crossover skate method.

Again, I love you. You are not who you think you are to me.
I wonder what you are doing.

Katrina at 4:53 AM

2006-09-30

I think I mentioned earlier I felt magnetic tonight.

Maestro was where I was tonight. If you don't know who maestro is I'm not going to tell you. All I have to say is I talked to Maestro. He's very cool and looks damn good for his age. He also gave me a hug. I think I needed that hug. Any hug. My friend asked me why after I had talked to him for about 30 mins I didn't get his autograph. Why would I want his name on a piece of paper, that I would surely lose, when I can sit down and talk about the dungeon that is the embassy with him? She even hit me. I didn't understand. If that makes so much sense he should have asked me for my autograph too? no.

I'm happy I went out. I didn't really want to go. I love intuition.

A small girl by the name of brooklyn who is 4 taught me a new kiss today. I love kisses. I didn't know there was a butterfly kiss. Why didn't anyone tell me that? She was adorable. Turns out she didn't know what an eskimo kiss was. I showed her. Good times with Brooklyn.

-----------------------------
This could be part two.
-----------------------------

When you discover more about yourself. I think you actually give away that much. I mean that we find there is less that actually belongs to ourselves.
Like, I, is just what I give to you, making a part of you, me. Less of me. More of all of you. Less of you in you. More of us in us. All of us, in, all of us.

On a farm, you probably won't find an empty bucket. I mean not on a busy farm anyways. You can always fill it with shit. You can then take it to a garden. Help it grow. Fertilizer, they call it.
I've mentioned I think this world works backwards. You can learn something from everybody. When I realized I was being told that everything I was doing was wrong. I then believed listening to him tell me these things was wrong. He gave me every tool I needed to build an escape. Peace be those who bring the pain. Thank you.

Katrina at 3:46 AM

2006-09-29

This is part one.

I feel magnetic today.

Like as if I am one magnet and something else is another magnet. Since, I am in front of my computer thinking about going to do something. I am (or perhaps another thing) is placing a piece of paper between two magnets. I can feel the souths presence but there is a thin line between myself(north)and the south(?).

It almost still feels like its inside when I don't talk about it.
Even when its seems sorted through in my head.
What I have done and been through and seen and heard and said, cannot be used against me.
Every moment is a breath farther away from that place.
Which is just closer to another place.
Every moment is one of growth.
But some things need to be purged.
Energy in, energy out.
I say it enough.
And have for long enough.
I never use it enough.
I think I say it because I know what energy in becomes when its not energy out.

It is 11:03pm. I will be home drunk soon enough. Then I will probably spill some drunken guts. Ahh, be happy I'm not one to drunk dial. Or you'd all be in danger.

Katrina at 10:10 PM

2006-09-28

Unrequited love ripples the soul as a boat across water
Wishing does not make love
any less
I am chasing it who is like the horizon
It reflected and glittered like a sun beam against water
While the dawn broke silently
While my eyes were closed and my dreams open
Love was just a metaphor
For closed eyes and wandering minds
A bittersweet ailment I can’t breathe without
A misery when I turn away
It not enough to feel your hands on my back
Be fully alive and ready to die
A heart slips into your hands
And down in the abyss
I followed it trying to keep an eye
A moving target of my life
Two souls bound in perfect emotion
The secrets lost inside the whirlwind
I am not lost it is you that hides
I am the mild mannered moon
Casting generous light on the black dove
Catering to swallows
I want to feel the flowers blooming
When the wind is warm and the sun is high
Peace enough to hear a butterfly sigh
But your music plays in the tune of my existence
And right now is so loud I cannot take it in

This is the poem I chose to put on poetry thursday this week. It was written a while ago. The topic was synesthesia. I think most poems are synesthetic(? is that a word). Most writing is synesthetic. Especially for a reader. It's so easy to be reminded of something. Like today, It smells like autumn outside. Which almost smells like winter but seems more..electric? I love autumn. It reminds me of something and nothing all simultaneously. So really I am saying it gives me this really awesome feeling and makes me want to think things and do things but I never know what exactly it is. I was born when autumn is just climaxing. Which reminds me I am going trick or treating again this year. I can't stop. It's a need far bigger than anything else. I figure if I go out in a mask this year no one will even notice. I've met 13 year old kids bigger than I am. I think I just might round up a group of children to take with me.
Speaking of children, my friend has two. She was online last week and said she was bored. I told her if she was bored her children were probably ready to kill themselves. I suggested art. Kids love it. Especially if its messy. Not too mention, It really does help all of you in the long run.
I've never understood some parents for that reason. It's like they have children and after the novelty wears off they only give children somewhere to live and something to eat. What's the point in having children if you aren't going to play with them? I would want my children to play with me.
Parents brought there children to childreach at the sum of who knows what a week to have someone else play with their children. Alot of these parents were of single income homes but married or common law. Which left mom at home and also putting out money to have someone else play with her kids. Why? I know there are good outcomes to putting your children in a decent daycare before they begin school. Its aiding in the transition and makes for a more social and accepting child but out of laziness is just bogus. Especially if they come home to the materializing of all this sitting on the couch.
Then in years of adolescence we think we lose sight of our children when really we never actually seen who they were in the first place.
This is bullshit.
I'm not a mom.
What do I know?
I wish I knew.
What does it take to 'know' someone?
The people I thought I knew I never really knew at all.

Katrina at 10:01 PM

I came across this just now and it kind of relates to the book i just finished. I think I said the book fell into my lap at the same time I was thinking about the ideas in it and the same goes now for this guy. Well at least some of the things he says. I also wonder if it makes a difference how loud the noise is in his experiments. I wonder how loud the real world is too. How loud the humming wavelengths are that we don't think we hear. Oh, but we hear them. If you listen they will tell you things. Like what to do next. Or better yet, what will happen next.

David Icke

Katrina at 5:58 PM

Katrina at 7:12 AM

2006-09-27

Theres a dream that I see I pray it can be
Look cross the land shake this land
A wish or a command
I Dream that I see dont kill it its free
Youre just a man you get what you can
We all do what we can
So we can do just one more thing
We can all be free
Maybe not in words
Maybe not with a look
But with your mind
Listen to me dont walk that street
Theres always an end to it
Come and be free you know who I am
Were just living people
We wont have a thing
So wed got nothing to lose
We can all be free
Maybe not with words
Maybe not with a look
But with your mind
Youve got to choose a wish or command
At the turn of the tide is withering thee
Remember one thing the dream you can see
Pray to be shake this land
We all do what we can
So we can do just one more thing
We wont have a thing
So weve got nothing to lose
We can all be free
Maybe not with words
Maybe not with a look
But with your mind
But with your mind

-cat power

Katrina at 6:03 AM

I finished two books. metamorphosis by franz kafka and as a man thinketh by james allen. Both are good. metamorphosis is a little emotionally disturbing at times and is also a great metaphor on a whole. Think 'The fly'with a little less jeff goldblum and early 1900 style.
As a man thinketh tells us we are our thoughts. yup. I guess that book is considered self help nowadays. It's pretty good. It kind of seemed like the book fell into my lap at the right time when I was thinking the exact same things that the book talks about. I love it when that happens.
I should have read siddhartha by herman hesse years ago but I didn't. What a poor excuse. I started it tonight.
What a boring entry.

Typical Katrina style.

Katrina at 4:20 AM

2006-09-26

Finally, It all makes sense...

Katrina at 3:15 AM

2006-09-25

A stream of consciousness

stop
red
blood
wound
heal
time
space
build
people
intuitive
know
unknown
fear
death
life
birth
eyes
blink
breathe
lung
cancer
cigarette
smoke
fire
water
bridge
boat
paddle
smack
bruise
blood
skin
burn
fever
sick
medicine
doctor
nurse
white
shoppers
hair dye
fake
make up
costumes
theatre
script
movie
director
chair
table
food
drink
drunk
stumble
fall
......
It felt good to get that out.

Katrina at 11:20 PM

2006-09-24

He held the world in psychedelic fingers but the reality of them, all turned up, illusion....

I went to a party on friday. Sarnia on saturday for another party. It was a party hardy weekend. Talked to some people that were too logical for my illogical tastes. Talked to some people too illogical for my pieces that cling to logic. I saw some people I haven't seen since highschool at Sarahs house.
People love the past(I think I am also in the 'people' category). They eat it up like sliced meats, cheese and crackers at a reunion. They just can't wait. It's almost like being attacked in a comforting kind of way.
All in all it was productive. Lisas mom is a crazy crazy funny lady. Crazy. Funny. My favourite qualities in an alien.
I'd like to talk about romantic relationships gone sour here....
3+20= The sum of the weekend.
Its your life, but its our world....

with teeth,
me

Katrina at 11:58 PM

2006-09-23

FREUD TOWN A.C.

Devil say I am an unlocated.
Window of myself devil.
say Nobody sit.
There nobody light.
the lamp devil.
Say one glimpse of it.
From outside do the trick do.
The trick devil.
Say smell this devil say.
Raw bones devil say the mind.
Is an alien guest I say.
Devil outlived devil in.

Perhaps, I know where my devils sleep. Perhaps, I know where they roam. Perhaps, I know where they find they rocks, to throw against our home.

Your devils, unbeknowst to me. Stare mine down at night. Perhaps, they fight. Perhaps, they are right.

Katrina at 4:14 AM

The beat to this song , I won't forget.
Ya, I'll remember you otherwise.

So, anyways, if you go to a party. You should know how they work. Beautiful things they are.
People, they is.
:)
I can only hope you remember me too.

Katrina at 2:30 AM

2006-09-22

Katrina at 6:36 AM

It's 4:18am. I can't sleep. In that, I will make you suffer. There is, strangely, therapy in pain. Alot in life cannot be taught with words and cannot be learned without pain. I don't even know if that makes sense...Anyways, the point is...embrace the late night blather.
I think I'm just going to write about why I am awake. Hopefully, it will help put me to sleep. Sorry.
(val, I keep leaving you messages in my blog, talk about geek. this might be of interest to you in the end part)

Incoming!!!!!!!!

I was thinking about how memories are like pictures.
A continuous reel of pictures. Then I thought of tv. then how the tv works which is kind of like how an eye works.
Then I thought, we are conditioned to use our eyes in conjunction with the memories that come along with it. For Instance, Your mother is the person who shows you and tells you about a crockpot. You learn this is a crockpot. You learn it slow cooks tasty all in one dishes. Like stews. Like pulled pork. Roasts, Or small children (oops..backspace...backspace is broken). Someone taught that to your mother and her mother and before that there probably was no crockpot...what a bad example.
You remember what something is because of the picture you got along with some words, but if she had taught you it was a sock warmer, and she warmed socks with it, you'd probably only wonder why it's called a crockpot...why is it called a crockpot?

Its the limbic system, the brains emotional centre, it makes each of us like a plug-in of the crowd.
We believe things to be true because other people say so. (I admit. I have to be up in an hour and I have no idea what I'm talking about, the crock pot thing I should delete. silly backspace.) When someone comes up with something new and unheard of it makes sense because it's almost as if we already knew. It just never raised a question. At that point, we claim to have all thought about it.
I wonder if we all had our own realities, what fun it would be, instead of this collective.

My badbum question is where does reality reside?

I think that we think our outside world is real. Maybe, it was just one animals perception passed down.
Even more, maybe this perception IS my own and part of it is thinking that you are a separate person inside. Maybe, you are just a piece of me.
This world works backwards. I swear it. So then, anyways, If I feel it to be true, that it all comes from inside then how come I can't sleep? Why am I so worried about what is outside after being so darn sure it comes from inside...because Jenny, I may not be a smart man but I know what love is?
No.
Damn these demons, other pieces of me, they poke me with sticks in the night.

I think also, it could be that I don't see a point in nothing. I also don't see a point in something. I am stuck here. No faith. No death. No life as I had once thought it would be. Is that not a big superfreak? Spending at least 17 of your early life looking forward to something that turned out absolutely no different aside from the experiences and the thoughts and growth that came along with those experiences? Call me naive but I was expecting something more. I now see. As great as it is. I was waiting to realize...

THERE IS NO EFFING MEMO!
*sigh, far too much energy wasted.

Which reminds me I still need to get to my post on old age. I caught a documentary tonight about a old age home. If you don't know what that is it's a place where young people put old people because they don't realize that old people are still human. So they kind of shove them together and surround them with four walls and wait for them to die. One by one. Sometimes nurses will drug them and then laugh about them with their co-workers. This I have seen.
Thats pretty much how I feel about them anyways. There is only one exception to that thought of mine....another post.

I'm hoping you all didn't get this far...don't tell me you were expecting something more.

Katrina at 4:24 AM

2006-09-21

I remembered this as I was doing the dishes and I felt I had to write about it.
I'm calling it the anthropology of water.
or one of these...
Aegyptus had 50 sons.
Danaos had 50 daughters.
Oh, the irony.
Damn me and my feeble mind.


Water must be held in something other than your hands. You cannot hold it. You'll notice it slips through places where you thought were seamless. Like people. I have tried. All took themselves out of my palms. This perhaps is how it should be. What - If I remember - anthropologists call 'normal dangers' in the idea of encountering alien cultures. I remember the friend who first taught me about that. He over-emphasized using the word encounter instead of discovery when he was talking about it. I remember:
'Think of it as the difference between believing what you want to believe and believing what can be proven"
I thought about it. Actually, for far too long. I should have just spoken my mind. I said I don't want to believe anything (lying) and I have nothing to prove(lying again). I just want to travel into the world I see as 'reality', and stop, noticing whats under the sky (this is, indeed still, the truth).
Cruelly then, he mentions something about a culture he had studied in his 3rd year where true virgins and false virgins are identified by a water ordeal. Apparently, an intact virgin can dive deep into water but a woman who has known love will drown. Sounds like a risky testing procedure, but anyways.
Ignorantly, I said something along the lines of I'm not interested in true and false(the incoming is a proven point of my once(probably still) ignorant nature. Once you realize you're a tool you find yourself looking for other places you shone so brightly as such and then you have THE why water will find the cracks in what seems so seamless)
I wanted to ask him other things, because he is so good at keeping me grounded, but my inhibitions took over for some reason. I wanted to ask him the difference between heaven and hell. I didn't, I ended up telling him the story of Danaos and his daughters.
Quickly, Danaos was this hero in greek myth who had 50 daughters. They loved him so much, it was almost as if each was a part of his body. When he would stir in bed they would wake up and go to him. They grew up and when it was time to marry. Danaos found 50 bridegrooms ( 50 boys of Aegyptus). Set the day, married them...blah blah. At midnight on the wedding day, 50 doors closed simultaneously. Then a terrible encounter took place. 49/50 of the daughters had a knife in their thighs and stabbed her bridegroom to death. (the 50 bridegrooms had planned on killing the brides anyways...).
This archetypal crime of women was rewarded by the gods with a kind of paradigmatic punishment. They were sent to hell and sentenced to spend eternity gathering water in a sieve.
What happened to the other daughter? It was never confirmed.

Lets just say, the water was deep.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Edit:

In the foreground a half-barren tree
speaks louder than that sky
whose wind screams mercilessly in my ears
and the leaves are falling from the tree
but its bark makes not a sound.

Katrina at 5:19 PM

Serial Joe-Mistake

comic relief.
I remember watching these guys get bottled on stage in 1999. Geek tragedy.

Katrina at 4:02 PM

NIN - The Perfect Drug

beauty in the box

Katrina at 3:56 PM

Bad as it seems - Hayden

You know you love it.

Katrina at 3:37 PM

2006-09-20

"-(the f(r)ighteningly beautiful utopia of codependency).
Lost and found of the self in love. Hate comes from a love ideal, unachievable."

Chris Sandon updated finally.
www.chrissandon.com

Katrina at 4:20 PM

2006-09-19

rachael and the tattoo.

























'if we pick them
we'll pick by guessing
white chrysanthemums
when frost has first settled
and decieves the eye"
-mitsune

One morning words were missing. Before that, words were not. Facts were, faces were. In a good story, aristotle tells us, everything that happens is pushed by something else. For Instance, three women were bending in the fields. What use is it to question us? they said. Well it shortly became clear that they knew everything there was to know about snowy fields and those blue-green shoots that come up in late spring and a plant called 'audacity' which apparently poets mistake for violets. The little ticks in forms of questions construct an instant of nature gradually, without any boredom of a story.
I try to avoid it. Boredom, that is.
It is the task of a lifetime. You can never know enough, never work enough, never use the infinitives and participles oddly enough, never leave the mind quickly enough.

In each of you I draw, it's wrong but I do it. I find, beneath the pencil scratches, radioactive material.
Do you think 9 miles is down far enough?
16 miles?
195 miles?
They are of course, my own scratches.

Faces
I once thought sharp blades
the way they pointed them at me
and waited
a hunter is someone who listens
so hard to its prey
that silence pulls the weapon
out of its hand
and wounds only itself

To Singapore and Toronto.
Good Morning or Night.

Katrina at 11:23 PM

mimnermos

In the offing he sees old age.

Yes, lovely one it's forever today now what's that shadow unzipping
your every childfingered wherefrom?

for poor tithonos.

They (on the one hand) made his chilly tears immortal
neglecting to tell him
his eyes were not.

He gazes perhaps he blames.

Sweat. It's just sweat. But I do like to look at them.
Youth is a dream where I go everynight and wake with
just this little jumping bunch of arteries
in my hand.
Hard, darling, to be sent behind their borders.
Carrying a stone in each eye.

Katrina at 10:52 PM

To watch a game you quit playing because it caused more trouble than good..
is like still playing the game, but you can never win because you're not playing. Which is to say you won't lose either. You just kind of observe the energy and must take it in because you have no other option but to quit. You don't quit because you aren't playing. Quitting is an end to those in the game but they don't realize it's just a new beginning. Perhaps, with no game if they played their cards right this hand.
That same person still playing the game while you watch, is probably the same person who went for the coolest playing piece in monopoly. The same person that avoided the iron(y).
The same person transfixed on the game, in which, they are in the dark about what they are playing for. Perhaps, playing for the dark. Now anyways, they just play. You sit idle and laugh while they lose boardwalk and parkplace. They didn't need it anyways with 4 hotels on north carolina and the likes? I wonder what they fight for?
One is good and one is bad but none of it is true.

Katrina at 2:49 PM

A taste of India

I went out with a friend for drinks and dinner tonight. Hilarity ensued. We were on topic so I asked him to mesh monkeys and lamp shades into a point relative to his existence. He did it. Really, really well might I add. The whole rant was extremely funny but the funniest part was his wisdom for life at the end. 'Humans are like monkeys because we want light but we cover it with a lamp shade'. It was the end because by that point I was laughing so hard I think half the people in the symposium left. On a different note: a taste of India is a really great restaurant.

I was drab like the weather today, but like the rain I was consistent about it.

I think it was Harry Truman that said 'if you can't convince them confuse them'.
I also believe it was Diana Black who said 'a big ego is a shield for alot of empty space'.
Maynard said 'He had alot to say. He had alot of nothing to say. Well miss him.'
A paranoid is someone who knows little of whats going on.
Seriousness is the only refuge of the shallow.
and finally.
Witty sayings prove nothing.

and I have nothing to prove. Or do I?
Such a funny thing, really.

When you are insecure you tend to be perceived incorrectly. I wonder who's problem this is in that certain situation. Ones for being insecure, feeling incompetent and seemingly undeserving, or twos, for being pretentious, self-absorbed and numb in emotive areas. Two creates a shadow over one and one is far too dependent on that shadow. While, one is the perfect concave for for two, two is a nice convex for one. Although, constant friction of the rubbing when both lean into each other will only cause erosion. So, whats more?
I don't know thats as far as I got, then the phone rang. There must be more important things to do. Like, count magnets in other peoples kitchens from my bedroom window, play beer caps alone until I pass out or count the fibers in my carpet.
Pack, pack, packin' the bags. We all like packin' when we play with...

Someone sign me.

Katrina at 12:00 AM

2006-09-18

Letter 6

And again for those who screamed encore (I could be standing alone).

'Why don't you think of him as the one who is coming, who has been approaching from all eternity, the one who will someday arrive, the ultimate fruit of a tree whose leaves we are? What keeps you from projecting his birth into the ages that are coming into existence, and living your life as a painful and lovely day in the history of a great pregnancy? Don't you see how everything that happens is again and again a beginning, and couldn't it be His beginning, since, in itself, starting is always so beautiful? If he is the most perfect one, must not what is less perfect precede him, so that he can choose himself out of fullness and superabundance? - Must not he be the last one, so that he can include everything in himself, and what meaning would we have if he whom we are longing for has already existed?'

Val - Check your email. warning: it took me an hour so it should be a doozy.

Katrina at 2:15 AM

2006-09-17

Letter 8

Taken from letter 8 of letters to a young poet.
http://www.sfgoth.com/~immanis/rilke/letter1.html

"It seems to me that almost all our sadnesses are moments of tension, which we feel as paralysis because we no longer hear our astonished emotions living. Because we are alone with the unfamiliar presence that has entered us; because everything we trust and are used to is for a moment taken away from us; because we stand in the midst of a transition where we cannot remain standing. That is why the sadness passes: the new presence inside us, the presence that has been added, has entered our heart, has gone into its innermost chamber and is no longer even there, - is already in our bloodstream. And we don't know what it was. We could easily be made to believe that nothing happened, and yet we have changed, as a house that a guest has entered changes. We can't say who has come, perhaps we will never know, but many signs indicate that the future enters us in this way in order to be transformed in us, long before it happens. And that is why it is so important to be solitary and attentive when one is sad: because the seemingly uneventful and motionless moment when our future steps into us is so much closer to life than that other loud and accidental point of time when it happens to us as if from outside. The quieter we are, the more patient and open we are in our sadnesses, the more deeply and serenely the new presence can enter us, and the more we can make it our own, the more it becomes our fate; and later on, when it "happens" (that is, steps forth out of us to other people), we will feel related and close to it in our innermost being. And that is necessary. It is necessary - and toward this point our development will move, little by little - that nothing alien happen to us, but only what has long been our own. People have already had to rethink so many concepts of motion; and they ill also gradually come to realize that what we call fate does not come into us from the outside, but emerges from us. It is only because so many people have not absorbed and transformed their fates while they were living in them that they have not realized what was emerging from them; it was so alien to them that they have not realized what was emerging from them; it was so alien to them that, in their confusion and fear, they thought it must have entered them at the very moment they became aware of it, for they swore they had never before found anything like that inside them. Just as people for a long time had a wrong idea about the sun's motion, they are even now wrong about the motion of what is to come.

The future stands still, dear Mr. Kappus, but we move in infinite space."

Still one my favourite reads. Full of lovely feeling to help you when you find yourself drifting into numb.

Katrina at 11:35 PM

This is an ode to Rainer Maria Rilke

Self-Portrait

The steadfastness of generations of nobility
shows in the curving lines that form the eyebrows.
And the blue eyes still show traces of childhood fears
and of humility here and there, not of a servant's,
yet of one who serves obediantly, and of a woman.
The mouth formed as a mouth, large and accurate,
not given to long phrases, but to express
persuasively what is right. The forehead without guile
and favoring the shadows of quiet downward gazing.


This, as a coherent whole, only casually observed;
never as yet tried in suffering or succeeding,
held together for an enduring fulfillment,
yet so as if for times to come, out of these scattered things,
something serious and lasting were being planned.

What survives?

Who says that all must vanish?
Who knows, perhaps the flight
of the bird you wound remains,
and perhaps flowers survive
caresses in us, in their ground.
It isn't the gesture that lasts,
but it dresses you again in gold
armor -from breast to knees-
and the battle was so pure
an Angel wears it after you.

Telling you all

Telling you all would take too long.
Besides, we read in the Bible
how the good is harmful
and how misfortune is good.
Let's invite something new
by unifying our silences;
if, then and there, we advance,
we'll know it soon enough.
And yet towards evening,
when his memory is persistent,
one belated curiousity
stops him before the mirror.
We don't know if he is frightened.
But he stays, he is engrossed,and,
facing his reflection,
transports himself somewhere else.

On Hearing of a Death

We lack all knowledge of this parting. Death
does not deal with us. We have no reason
to show death admiration, love or hate;
his mask of feigned tragic lament gives us
a false impression. The world's stage is still
filled with roles which we play. While we worry
that our performances may not please,
death also performs, although to no applause.
But as you left us, there broke upon this stage
a glimpse of reality, shown through the slight
opening through which you dissapeared: green,
evergreen, bathed in sunlight, actual woods.
We keep on playiing, still anxious, our difficult roles
declaiming, accompanied by matching gestures
as required. But your presence so suddenly
removed from our midst and from our play, at times
overcomes us like a sense of that other
reality: yours, that we are so overwhelmed
and play our actual lives instead of the performance,
forgetting altogehter the applause.

Katrina at 10:58 PM

The best one

I've heard alot. Not always to me directly. Sometimes I overhear them. Sometimes you have competitions with your friends to see who can come up with the best one. This one was said to me tonight, it almost convinced me...but not quite.

no name guy: "If you're name was homework, I'd go home early to do you"
me: "wow"

yes. It was that sad.

Katrina at 2:15 AM

2006-09-16

input

3 blogs down. the post about death/birth/my silly rant. I had someone send me a comment on it. I am not sure how exactly it relates because I haven't thought about it since but its relative and I feel like if I thought about it I am sure I could change the theory a bit and incorporate it into the cycle

"oh i was just about to go to bed when i thought of something ... right before people die they are a lot like parasites too. living off of feeding machines or the help of doctors and nurses (or sometimes other family members)when they are too weak or their memory is gone. it sounds kind of mean to think of it like that but really they are a living organism just living off someone or something else." -Sarah

Yeah, old age...thats going to be my next post.

Katrina at 12:30 PM

boys with breath control

I found another one.

Most already know...I have something with boys and the flute. I don't know what its all about and I don't care but it makes me smile. I thought this one could pass even though its not a flute but because he has his nose pierced, neat hair and he's still playing a wind instrument (he kind of looks like the guy that played legolas in lord of the rings too). I'm easy to please. It's a nice picture. I wanna call him the pied piper but its already aptly named 'Hamelin's first' by
*VladimirBorowicz http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/39842386/

I have this feeling I'll end up spending my life with the type of person I most avoid.
I need to stop that, Or, surely I'll end up fucking myself

Katrina at 12:40 AM

2006-09-15

free falling

If you have ever jumped off the highest diving platform at the aquatic centre you will know what I'm talking about. I went on the super shot or something like that at the fair tonight. It's like the drop zone at canandas wonderland. Waiting in line I knew it was gonna be freaky but I didn't know it was going to feel like free falling off a cliff or something. I think I am now afraid to take a plane because I can assume it would feel the same for longer if one were to plummit. I have to laugh now in movies when they show the hero walking around on a plane trying to fix things or give people parachutes in the middle of this falling sequence because no...that would never be possible. I have never screamed on a ride. I screamed like a bitch. It feels like jumping off the highest platform at the aquatic center times about 5 and having it last about 3 seconds longer. It was scary. I didn't like that feeling. I now have a rival with the worst death...It's a war between drowning and falling. yup. getting shot would kinda suck too. actually any death other than in sleep would suck. actually. whatever.
I haven't had cotton candy in about 3 years either. I forgot how tasty that stuff was. I wish the world was made of it but that nothing got sticky.

There is an inside voice. It gives you options. some are 'good' some are 'bad' and some are the truth. You have no choice whether or not you listen. You do have the choice regarding which voice you sing with. No matter which you pick that is the voice that people hear. When you walk away from someone you always leave them with a memory. Memories are alot of who we are. What you leave with them is who you essentially are to them. Spread the love.

“In the world through which I travel, I am endlessly creating myself.”
-Fanon
"My choice is what I choose to do, and if I'm causing no harm, then it shouldn't bother you.
Your choice is who you choose to be, and if you're causin' no harm, then you're alright with me."
-Ben Harper (smokin' the ganj)

Katrina at 11:19 PM

This is probably a blog for kate or someone of that kind.

DEAR DIARY:

Today I started my period. My mom showed me how to use a sanitary napkin. It was embarassing. At recess today kellen (my crush) was whispering to tommy scriver. I think he was talking about me. I wonder if he'll ask me out...
I'm sorry I forgot it was 2006 not 1994 anymore. A girl can dream can't she?

A quote from Childhood and Adolescence by someone who I forget (although I'm staring at the book) OR someone I care not to mention. Followed by my silly rant that probably won't make sense but things are ticking and I'm a bit stoned and I think it could go somewhere. I also think it's the weed talking. So, if it makes no sense smack me with some heat next time you talk to me.
"The birth cry marks the baby's first breath and serves as a boundary between his former waterborne, parasitic existence and his status as an air-breathing, separate organism. He is still attached to his mother by his umbilical cord, but this has ceased functioning as a life line and will shortly be clamped off and severed - a painless operation. "

WHOA! AMAZING! (sorry)
ok
so
I used to volunteer at chilreach until I thought I had learned some things from the kids and decided the next part in my learning at that point was to talk with some old people. I ended up talking with beautiful old people (you may call them crazy,schizo, bi polar, suicidal, Autistic, manic, dis-associated, delusional, disordered, retarded, fucked up whatever. They are the only people I know that actually and literally speak their minds. )
So, Now I decided to study some childhood issues again but I won't be finished with the wise ones anytime soon. Anyways, I am reading this book I found, it's old and silly to read but I thought about something when I read that paragraph.
I don't like the fact that they kept it so coldly fundamental but I guess thats how it goes. I kind of appreciate it in this instance because it kind of put something into a simple perspective.

Simplicity is fantastic. People can absorb more when you can say it with less words. Words just waste time.

As it says, birth is a process leading from 'parasite' to 'separate organism'. So is birth even birth at all. or is it death and then birth. or is it rebirth?

birth (bûrth) n.
The emergence and separation of offspring from the body of the mother.
The act or process of bearing young; parturition: the mare's second birth.
The circumstances or conditions relating to this event, as its time or location: an incident that took place before my birth; a Bostonian by birth.
The set of characteristics or circumstances received from one's ancestors; inheritance: strong-willed by birth; acquired their wealth through birth.
Origin; extraction: of Swedish birth; of humble birth.
Noble or high status: persons of birth.
A beginning or commencement.

oh no, Ive gone crosseyed and the word birth has lost meaning.

Now, call me crazy but in there it says nothing about birth being a transition from one form of life into another. Yes, from one place to another (in body to out of body). Parasite and organism. I could be very wrong. I could be crappy in explaining my points. A parasite is a organism living off a host neither killing or helping it and an organism is a living thing. Kind of similar in the fact that they are organisms but still different things. They are different things in a matter of seconds, from a science point of view. So, it can't be birth in the way this book explains because it talks of transition. So, rebirth? If it's rebirth then it must have happened before and when was the first time, conception? but the egg and sperm are two separate things and if a parasite to separate organism is birth than egg and sperm union must be birth. and if birth is the transition from something else then obviously the egg had a birth and the sperm had a birth....you see where im going.
so if its continuous rebirth or beginning, then the end of the transient must have had to of passed each time and that would be death. So, life must be a transient stage before the death and rebirth of life in another form? Always more each time (or less and smaller depending on how you look at it) So death is just the transient stage into life and life is just transience into death but life and death are different everytime. I mean living in a womb for 9 months is a pretty different world I would assume, I can do that because I've been there I just don't remember. Not to mention, It's full of growth and change...kind of reminds me of now.
So, maybe I shouldn't be putting it all into parts. Maybe it is actually the complete opposite and it is all the same and just runs its course infinitely. That maybe these things aren't constant rebirths and deaths but constant change and evolution. Which would fit nicely with the chaos theory in a way. It's all coming back to cycles lately though. Everything is cycling and spinning and moving down the spiral. Everything comes from nothing but something and all the ends are just beginnings.
I sound like a fool. This I am aware of. It was just a thought people please don't stone me. They are all I have.
I'll end this now but its just the beginning.

Im going to have a bazaar for maybe a rehab institution or something and call it 'Katrinkets thrifty treasures'. Ok, that might not happen but it would be cool if I made it happen.

My best friend from public school told me that I told her in the 90's that my favorite song was karma police by radiohead. The problem with losing or drifting from old good friends is that you lose the memories only they can remind you of. This makes your life seem shorter. Try to remember more by doing things out of the ordinary. Like calling an old friend.

p.s
In my life, the people I've loved the most are the people I don't think I know anything about.
The things I run from are what I should stick to for at least a little longer.
I never wait for harvest.
I talk of the roads I've taken as if at times it been different but really it's all one road the landscape just changes.
If you leave the house good things always happen.

p.p.s
Bittersweet symphony reminds me of winter and sitting on a bus. It gives me a feeling of anxiety when I hear it. As if I need to be somewhere else. Want to go somewhere? Anywhere?

Peace.

Katrina at 12:02 AM

2006-09-14

Today

Katrina at 10:07 PM

Watching the human comedy

This begins with me venting. Ends in positive energy. Thats how I roll. I have the negative but I never expect you to receive the negative. So I try to roll it in love and send it packing afterwards. When you finish the hard stuff it makes the easy stuff sugar and pancakes(?). I never know what I'm talking about. It's pointless for you to try figure it out.

My boss for the carnie job has a wooden leg. If I wasn't allergic to violence I would have beaten him with it by now. Thank my lucky stars it's only a 10 day long journey through the depths of hell or I would have quit. Today, since his piece of tree prevents his leg from bending, I had to pick up this chunk of pork he dropped on a greasy/dirty floor in our trailer. Me, being a somewhat decent human being I picked it up all the while thinking I was to throw it out and as I go to do so I am grabbed by a gross hand on my upper arm. 'Give it here'. 'ok' I say. He proceeds to cook it on the grill.
After I swallowed the vomit in my mouth. 4 people are in line waiting for food. I just looked at them. They looked at me and then him. His little pool of spit in the corner of his mouth. His soriasis (sp?) scalp bleeding. They cringed and walked away. I said, 'Your amazing customer service skills have exceeded my expectations, but if you want me to stay I'm going to have to throw that out'. He said 'If you waste my food I'll take if off your pay and watch your mouth or you'll be out of a job'. Pardon me? Out of a job? I have two and you have a back bacon joint where everything is sold fresh off the floor in hopes to save money. I couldn't help but wonder why I needed this second job at all. I really don't at all. I am doing a friend a favour. I never question friends. I should have wondered why she wouldn't work for her own father. Now I am thankful the apple fell so far from the tree. This is just this mornings events. There was the time when he asked me if 45 minutes was enough time to make love. Gross. I mean no respect for anyone but himself and I think I'm being nice.
I also work with a woman on very illicit drugs that keeps taking money and I watch her do it. Im almost excited that she's taking the money. I'd almost rather her with a fix than him with anymore dirty pork.
I don't know if I'll go tomorrow other than to say I want to come back only to get my pay. Really the most egocentric fleshbag of a human being I've ever met. I didn't know people could be so self involved. Call me naive. Most just pretend. At least thats kind of respectable. At least they see there might be an underlaying issue.

Anyways, Kate needs lots of hugs. If you see her make the connection.

----------------------------------------
My feet live to feel life in that unused path
The past is gone
And these feet have no choice
But to reclaim their virginity
Clean slate amongst old soles
----------------------------------------
Unrequited love ripples the soul as a boat across water
Wishing does not make love any less
I am chasing a love like the horizon
It reflected and glittered like a sun beam against water
While the dawn broke silently
While my eyes were closed and my dreams open
Love was just a metaphor
For closed eyes and wandering minds
A bittersweet ailment I can’t breathe without
A misery when I turn away
It not enough to feel your hands on my back
I want to hear the children laugh at death
Be fully alive and ready to die
A heart slips into your hands
down in the abyss
I followed it trying to keep an eye
A moving target of my life
Two souls bound in perfect emotion
The secrets lost inside the whirlwind
Am I not lost is it you that hides
I am the mild mannered moon
Casting generous light on the black dove
Catering to swallows
I want to feel the flowers blooming
When the wind is warm and the sun is high
Peace enough to hear a butterfly
But your music plays in the tune of my existence
And now is much too loud
-----------------------------------------------

Watching the venus creature of desire
Swim the infinite sea of reflection
The mirror of lavender dreamers
Landscapes of thoughts
Confined to a weak heart
Burning words from a torch
The stuttering silence
Stifles the lungs, urges not to forward a lyric
A song can be sung even when quiet speaks
A martyr for the lonliness
Waiting
The birds melting away with the snow
Sad melodies and grey days that seem so still
Quick came the weariness, so embracing without choice – no!
The sun moves from left to right and says goodbye – no!
Ignite the golden stars that were stolen from the shadows
Drops falling from the feathers of the lashes
Even the sheets are binding in the night
The death of all these inquisitions
The death of life is perfect
The absence of all thought
No longer under the reign of deceiving immortality
The black debris and gorgeous tradgedies
The Cinderella scapegoat
God sat on his hands and the radio was a saviour
Humming along to the gridlock of thoughts
When the dark is heavy one sings before they die
The sweet song of unattachment
My adagio. My Love.
My fear is all that stands
Between me and a killjoy.
----------------------------------------

end note:

'Beauty is unbearable...offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should like to stretch over the whole of time'
'A guilty conscience needs to confess. A work of art is a confession'
-canon law

Don't wait. Just do it.

Cheers

Katrina at 12:52 AM

2006-09-13

I was next in line that meant I was invisible

Two things I want you to remember.
conjunctivitis of the soul is a good thing.
if you are captain you can sail to the stars.

I had a cold chill of nostalgia today. It kind of made me feel sick. I was watching derrick and rosie talk before we left for home after work today. They have been married for 14 years. 3 kids. Now most of you know I was with mike for 6 and some years. Devastating in hindsight. Anyways, I remember the look and mannerisms of mike when he would say things condescending-like in hopes to prove a point and miss starting a war in its place. Sick looking. The evil chuckle while he spoke as if he wasnt serious enough to care but this is how to repress. Let's all pretend everythings ok. Which is to me exactly what they reminded me of. My/his energy being wasted into beating around the bush and forgetting that perhaps the problem isn't with the other person at all. When every word that leaves your tongue and enters your ear is negative, brutal to the inside. I never noticed. I just played the hands. The issues I must have left him with are probably tragic seeing as I'm constantly running from those types of pictures now. I don't even think I should leave myself with so much credit. Credit or Blame?
I'm the first to admit I don't know jack. I surely didn't at 16. I suppose in asking the questions I lived into the answers.
Grow. Just be sure to notice when you are covered in air tight shrink wrap and can't breathe Some things aren't as obvious as they seem later.

I have received news it is roadtrip time on the 28th. This time its New brunswick. Should be terribly amusing. As are all roadtrips. I remember when Scott and I found balls falls on our Niagara falls and surrounding area roadtrip. That was such a nice place for a doobie and a conversation.

The roadtrip inside is scenery and pedestrians. Never the person driving. She's despensible and invisible. This means she still gets hurt.

Katrina at 1:47 AM

2006-09-12

4:41am sept 12, 2006

The most ridiculous post ever follows...this is my tired blabber I thinkis worth while. In being worth while maybe I should post somethingun-worthwwhil and then and only then would I worth anything...but I don't care to be. Let me finish tomorrow.
this is just a recap.


Time. What does it matter? Am I tired because I'm awake too much or am I tired because I think I am sleeping too much? Anyways, I love you...

Am I strange because I want people to listen to me but ask people 'do you need to vent?' when they start talking? I think so. Tell me what the difference between hate and love is... If you think you know perhaps you are perfect...or perhaps the most wrong since...( if you are unsure about this paragraph see me before you go off exclaiming what a 'stupido' I am or callling me a 'tula' because frankly I like conversations that see through the ignorance you and I both hold against each other )

This also makes sense if you were one of us present.
I drink after work at the fair which is for the next 6 days and the woman who got me this second job is Ida my mothers friend. The issue with older people I find alot of time is the fact that they seem to think they are held above some beautiful white ribbon of perfection that I must work my way through but never will because the steal is rubber and bends as people move(???) I received a 400 dollar bonus today just for being there for 4 days consecutively(sp?). Isnt that what work is? Is life so tumultuous for others? Do enough people actually choose to fuck off rather than work for him in order to make myself seem so appealing? My Boss could be a tard.

Also,

My boss likes my tits. If you knew him you'd know. Thank you Chris for seeing me through these times of woe. I appreciate you're respect and love without these things I would have made trouble for myslef beyond belief...thank you.(haha, all for you if you want it..I mean want tit? okay okay, no im kidding...ok no im not)


did you know that it could always be worse? I did, but I always forget.

People are beautiful assholes. The most lovely in fact. It's matter of time before they notice....
It late and I'm tired maybe a better update tomorrow. this one endures the bukakke.

Katarina witt
( I wish I could fiurgure skate better than cheap 80's tunes on hi-pitch and a bad reverse crossover skate method.

Again, I love you. You are not who you think you are to me.
I wonder what you are doing.

Katrina at 4:53 AM