Month: July 2004

a little cat, paw raised : the machine recalibrates

Everything is coming together. I’ve been missing some people lately, but I’ve been snatching hugs off them on the street when I see them, I suppose I’m alright. Ian and Mishka are getting along fabulously, as are Gavin and Ian. Mishka’s not connected enough to the chat interface to be able to properly use it to talk with anyone. We went out to dinner at Wazubi’s yesterday and we explained to her how it’s possible for there to be culture memes that exist soley on the internet that sweep the entire planet. *grins* Media sharing itself in even one line. “badger badger badger” “All your Base” It’s a ping of information in real time, in experience. We don’t have to explain it to one another, because we bond through media sharing. We can’t properly sit and talk wit someone in Venezuala, so we send them a film clip we like. “Mah spoon is too big!” And they bleed out in to the world. It’s wonderful.

Lately I’ve been hooking people into Livejournal, explaining it’s the only network system I’ve ever found to actually work. More reliable than the random chance I-met-this-guy-at-a-party-that-could-tell-you. Communities under the surface of the city and growing. It’s a pity almost that hardly anyone goes to meet-ups. To meet the other people that allow this to happen, to KNOW when you pass them on the street. Gavinroomie and I suspect that there is a LiveJournal user in the building, and we wonder who it is. Bruce Sterling wrote a short story once, Maneki Neko. In it there is a purely network community, (bluetooth similar), who effects things in realtime all the time. A barter system and a gifting. I’m not usually a fan of Bruce Sterling, but the ideas are wonderul. The network swallowed into your life creating a richer community, a better place to be living in the world. Favours and words out on the net. Friends not even known, working everyday to help.

We need a password, a handshake. Tiny moments of Jive. A term we speak to be overheard.

self fufilling prophecy “I can’t talk to you.”

Wouldn’t it be delightful sometimes to be exactly what the unobservant think of you? I think I would like to enjoy being callous. To not care about people would be like some sort of vacation. A week away. “Oh darn, broke another toy. I guess I’ll have to go seduce another one” Would that not be amazing to actually be sometimes? So simple, so purely uncomplicated. To pay no attention to pain or other peoples desires. It must be a freedom. Not, I should add, that I would care to live, but still, I can see it’s attractiveness.

I called Bill tonight, like I told Dominique I would. It’s so sad. He seems so ensconced in victimhood he is unable to be aware of it. May the world protect me from ever being as such. She said not to, but really, I must. He hung up on me. I think he’s getting better, it took him an hour this time. I’m not going to stop trying though. I’m not who he says I am. It’s not my fault he won’t believe what I tell him. His carefully filtered views contradict all evidence, but he will create new out of any words. I suppose that is an almost enviable simple, in it’s own way. *grinning* Of course I still love him, of course I will continue to try and I will laugh as I scale this sheer wall. Because the top would be worth the broken nails, the bleeding fingers, the scrape and loss of flesh. I miss him.

Though I may be blind, I can see.

 

I release you

I was cruel tonight. It tasted delicious. Of nails down skin and thighs.

Wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for the storm.

A dark beach. Light coloured sand and ocean crash. Wind and water and fury. Now you fall on your knees for her. Gritty on the damp bare feet. There is a moon and it is cold. Cold like chill, cold like the moment you hear unexpected sound. She still has her shirt off. Teeth. That shiver is for the thunder. Wind whipping hair and skirt. Powerful, wicked. Flesh. Gasp now, before she hears you arching your back. Night laughter and skin. She’ll scream if you let her. Deafen the sky. Exquisite and lightning. Remember there was a line drawn once, sly and poison. Bisected by blackness across the chest. I’ll glow in the dark and laugh at you watching me. This is mine.

bleeding on the dancefloor is SO goth

The clock clicked to three the minute I opened the door of the car last night.

“and as she’s straightening her stockings, her hair has gotten wet”

Mishka and Ian came over last evening. Michelle was to be present too, but her childcare had gone missing. It was the first time the two of them had met and I can safely say it went successfully. We will more than survive the 12 hour drive and week together. With the right music, we’ll glory in it. There was an amusingly busy point with the three of us in my room, with Victoria, Kyle, and my brilliant Gavin on-line, and Jaques on the phone. I can’t imagine how frighteningly witty it would have been if everyone had been present in person. Later on, we and roomie-Gavin met up with Jaques at Wazubis on our trek for gelati. (I love that we have pictures). He and Ian started into a seriously amusing debate. Basically boiled down it was Spirituality VS Science, with Ian as the Voice Of Modern Reason.In the meantime, Mishka and I had stolen his friend, (whose name escapes me). She’s a piano teacher who accompanied Mishka years ago.

One of the things I really dislike about Van is the smallness of it all. The ONLY benifit of living here, I think, it the sheer social inscestuous. After awhile, it IS possible to know everyone. It’s one of my favorite things to mesh social groups together. Let Them meet They and toss them both at Us. It’s beautiful when it gets big enough. Stop the world for a moment and revel in it. Tangles nets of interaction catching new people as we go. Glorious.

We didn’t stay very long after the staff of the restuarant moved us inside. A half hour more of fetish nights and computer ed. We walked out around quarter to twelve still laughing onto the street. Mishka and Ian turn out to have people in common too. *love* It’s going to be a fun ride.

After Mishka went off home, glowing in the dark with her sunburn, Ian and I went off to Sanctuary’s last night at the Purple Onion. It’s strange to think that I’ve been going for five years. We ran into Beth and Miyama and gave them a ride home before heading in ourselves. Crow was there with his new girl, Micky. (She looks sort of interchangable with all the others I’ve known him to date). It didn’t stop him from watching me dance. I have a suspician that our relationship had been previously explained to her. *laughter* There were a few other people I knew there, but as it was after midnight, I’m sure most of everyone had gone home. Pity, but I pushed myself and danced util the last song in spite of the broken glass, so I’m happy.

just notes and letters

*Shane’s voice* Salutations!

As Lick fell through, I stayed waiting for the miracle until ten o’clock. At ten:ten I decided I must leave, so I shouldered my bag and left my shoes at home. Zesty’s was empty, so I just kept walking. Decided to fetch Sorbet from Super-Valu and keep hitting houses until I found someone with spoons. I decided if the search went fruitless, I would even knock on the doors of homes I did not know, provided that they had lights on and music playing. Minimum six houses with Raspberry melting in my bag. Marc not home, nor Jaques, nor Peter, nor Mike, nor Cath, nor Dimni, not one house with light and song. Everyone out on a Sat night, and I alone, stalking the streets, searching for company. Lucky Zesty’s is also on the way home.

C.R. caught me on my way by. Reached out a hand and said “hallo!” I’m not sure I would have seen them otherwise. The poetry people recognize me faster than I them sometimes. Curses on blindness. This week I go look at frames. Shane had some Fudge Colour for me that Ivan Coyote had given him. It’s like a link in a chain of barter system. Ivan got crunched this week. Idiot woman bashed her yesterday on Granville and no one stepped up to help. You think the world has come so far and then… *sighs*

In another turn of sillyness, as if to prove yet again the inscestuousness of Vancouver, on our caravan way to C.R.s place for the after the after party party, we collected Robin, the girl I was dancing with at Lick.