quiet

I just wrote this. Ummm not much else to say about it. Enjoy

A light hum.

A grinding.

Tick, tick, tick.

This room won't shut up. I have too much in here.

Clack, clack, clack.

Even writing this is too noisy. Nothing will be quiet. My room cannot be my sanctuary. There is always noise.

Tick, tick, tick.

My room is being invaded. The flag which acts as a curtain, lets light bleed into my room. Sounds from the room beside puncture the walls as if they were not there.

Crash.

The heater is starting its cycle again, I can hear the metal expanding. Warmth will come, but at a cost.

Will nothing be silent?

I quiet my breathing, but the clock keeps going. I only keep it for aesthitics. Beside it glows the time digitally.

For quiet, I strive.

I try to quiet my eyes by brining shadows into my room.
I try to quiet my skin by being still.
I try to quiet my hears by being silent.
I try to quiet my mind by quieting the world.

I am not seeking solitude by striving for quiet. I am trying to find out what quiet is. I've had my senses assaulted in one form or another. Whether it is all at once or one at a time. They have all been assualted. I wish for them to all be at peace, with one another, at the same time.

No light.
No sound.
No touch.

Just quiet.

Dreaming Detective

I had a dream. Woke up and wrote it down the first time at 5am. And it leaves a few pieces of detail here and there. So this the revision.

I was at this bar, where my friend Phil Arthurs was behind the bar as the barkeep. From the feel of the place, I knew it was somewhere I frequented. I was meeting a younger gentleman, my informant, and two (or three) of his associates. They had information, paper files, I wanted. I was thinking of putting them into my shoulder bag. However not all of the files could fit, so my informant and his associates were going to help me carry them. [There were lots of files apparently.] As we were about to leave, the rain became a down pour, and I received an anonymous message on my mobile. The message that I was now stuck at the bar because of the now inclement weather. I replied to the anonymous sender as to what I should do. He said [ok, this was a dream, I didn't know who it was sending the messages, I just knew it was a guy] I should stay put at the bar till the weather let up. While I was there, I spoke to the informant about the public messages myself and an unknown individual were sending back and forth.

Next I found myself in an entrance to a subway station, just outside the turnstiles. The past the turnstiles are two exits to the platforms below. A large man in a long black peacoat was headed down the right exit towards the platform. Posted on the wall directly in front of me, behind the turnstiles, was a response to the notice I had put up there. The notice I had placed was printed on white paper using red ink was large handwirting (even childish perhaps?) with a vector art design of a mountain scene with horses in it, done in warm earthy colours. What was written on the notice has now been lost to me. When I first read the response, it consisted of a thin outline of a green triangle with a similarly styled square below it. I asked the gentleman working the turnstile over my left shoulder what it could mean. He simply didn't know. When I looked back at the wall the message had changed and was arranged around the notice I had put up. The message moved down the wall, just as before, however it read: AAA88, where it then moved onto the floor. I looked back at the man working the turnstile and asked him if he knew about it [dreams are odd, I didn't care that message had changed]. He replied that the person who put it up said that they wanted the 'A's to be 'X's. I started to scrutinize the message even more so as it moved along the floor. A feeling of trepidation mixed with excitement came over me. I looked up and saw the other attendant working the other turnstile, a black female who was younger than the gentleman attendant sitting across from her. I ran up to ask them something, however as I drew near them, something, one, force pulled at me from behind. Hitting the floor I crumpled into a heap, hearing from the female attendant "It's too soon to do that to him!"

Ok so that is the edited form of what I wrote at 5am. The grammar and spelling might not be bang on, but its better than whats in my dream journal. Yeah I know thats corny, but hell it works. Anyways hope you enjoyed this. Perhaps more of the detective I'm to become?

i'm out.
jr.

p.s. had to kill another millipede the other day. gross.

Triple Nerd Score!

This one is for you Jess.
I couldn't resist.

hiding in my hovel

i'm hiding out here in my lovely hovel, which has been millipede free for a couple of months now. which is pretty fantastic. however outside of the first week of class, i've been hiding in my little room. I've been making it out to do some social things, but i haven't been doing any homework to justify going out at all. i'm sitting here, hiding from the world and not letting anyone in, going through marathons of random movies and episodes of the l word. only sending texts out at random intervals, checking my voicemail, spending copious amounts of time on msn talking to people who I should be sitting in a cafe/bar/wherever with, sitting face to face. I made it to one lousy class last week, i'm not sleeping right again, i lack motivation to do things. i guess this is what the blues are supposed to be like. or just a couple of shitty days in a row (which I have had).

for now, i'm going to put on a pot of coffee, do the dishes, make some cheap and dirty fried rice and clean my room.

this has been a shitty day

i'm out.
jr.

ps - i feel like one massive walking and talking cliche.

A Shell Full Of Awkward

ever do something that you fully regret?


I was going to post about my friends full out 'awkward turtle' moment but you had to be there to get it. Man I'm a horrible blogger.

I need a card reader so I can post photos that have been on my camera for months.

hope all is well.

i'm out.
jr.