i have seen the sound of music in its entirety.
o, sometimes i do wish i were an eleven year-old boy prancing about in the swiss alps wearing a pair of damask lederhosen made out of old curtains.
yes i do.
i was woken up at four this morning by a very loud conversation in the next room, loosely related to napoleon. i exiled myself to the living room where i spent the rest of the dark hours on the couch. and since then, it's snowed three inches.
it's still snowing.


my third eye hurts.
i need to get out of here.


my life, right now, is eating itself.
i close my eyes and all i can see
is a vacuum.
there's that particle accelerator thing down there in geneva, six kilometers below the surface of the earth, churning atoms at 99.9999991% of the speed of light. critics of the project are saying, now, that there is a 0.0000001% chance that as a result of this experiment, the earth will turn into a black hole.
i swear to god my heart beats faster these days.
i swear this is where it starts.


the weather forecast is officially just kidding itself.
it's been the last day of -20 weather three days in a row.
if the chinook's not coming after all, just say so.


tonight is
the first night of channukah,
the winter solstice, and
my vacation halfway point.
after this, everything will start turning
in the other direction. everything will start
coming out.
i feel a lot of anguish
but at least it's getting warmer.


i was a dumb cat and drank a double americano at eight o'clock. now i'm going to be up until three am and i just want to go to sleep. i keep checking the time at eight twelve. 20:12 on my 24 hour clock. is that a coincedence? i don't think so. that's when i drank the americano. at 20:12.
also, i'm starving hungry. i want to eat an entire pizza. with animals on it.
today is the new moon, if i'm not mistaken, so i only have one thing to say.
bleed, already. this is absurd.
in other news, i did a lot of things today.
i read and knitted and got so high and discovered a new drawing medium and went to the post office and made a delicious salad and watched two films and found a really funny old roll of photographs and showered and did a load of laundry found what i was looking for and meditated and sat at the cafe and did work and made my bed. i've spoken maybe seven sentences all day.
i like holidays, when they are like this. when i am quiet and productive. easy inside my skin.
last night, a strange dream.
there was a beach, a house, two women in bathing suits with cigarettes. a storm cloud, three pairs of leopard print reading glasses. my father, smoking with no shirt on, and after, in the house, casting a rope around, securing furniture before the rain. and when he finished, clear skies. irony. i waded into the bay and coming out, i found her there, lounging on a towel. then there was a bridge. she put her hand
and then retreated it, split in half and ran to both shores at once.
you can never have everything, she said.
life is always hard.
then, later, i crossed the bow river in a pair of snowshoes
and found a secret city. steep cobblestone laneways. rotary phones.
the smell of coal burning. smoke stacks. freight trains
going and coming, again and again.


i have purple circles under my eyes but i feel ok.
i just checked and today, on crackbook, my tarot card was


i got really high, by accident,
all of a sudden.
had a 15 minute brainstorm on the binary book.
everything has more than one alternative.
that's not a direct segue and in fact
i can't even remember where i was going.
the wheel of fortune is lurching around.
metal benches swaying.
a box of bunny pasta in the healthfood store
is three dollars.
that's not even the organic kind.
rush hour
on the highway
makes me want to puke.
it's too cold and the roads
are too treacherous and it's impossible
to get anywhere.
don't even get me started on television.
this city is home
to so much of my fear.
am i on the fucking hero's journey right now?
are you there, bee achhe? it's me.
what on earth am i going to look like when i come up
the other side with the elixir and for the love of tuna fish


sometimes i'm convinced my real life awaits me on a gulf island.


oh fuck.


today it snowed six inches and i didn't leave my house.
my entire life at this moment is
white. my mom made the mistake
of telling me that some woman at the school
baked five dozen cookies for us and passed them along
with six litres of soup.
i have never had so much baking in my entire life.
and guess who's a cheeky cat.
ca ca ca a a

tomorrow is monday but i have to keep reminding myself.
i have never felt more
on vacation
in my entire life.
god. it's fucking great.
every time i come back to this town
it feels like i never left. but this time
i'm scared.
something is fluttering at my solar plexus.
something is staring me in the face
but i can't see it. i don't know where it is.


for a fire, i am learning
the merit of matches.


today i flipped my calendar and the picture this month
is a half-dead chrysanthemum.
way to rub it in.


i'm having this surge of creative energy right now
in 9 languages
and i have to write a god damn paper
in plain old essay english.
that's going to be difficult because
i almost spelled
with an i.
which i personally think actually
makes a lot more sense, considering
this dialect of gerunds, this never ending present
despite itself.
suggests more strongly
an undoing. an insult.

o mitch.
can i knit you a pair of socks instead?
or give you a diptych cd? read your tarot?
can i teach you seven asanas?
align your 17 chakras?