All right, I guess I’m forced to pick up where I left off last time: the morality of humans and/or other animals. And my view that humans are just another species and that if we could communicate with monkeys, for example, the way we communicate with each other, we’d find that they view the world in similar ways to us.

For the record, if anyone can convince me that humans are special; that we have a morality and right to run (destroy?) the world the way we do; that we have a right to enslave, abuse, kill, enjoy and pillage other species, plants, earth and rocks, and even other people, the way we do, I would love to be convinced. Frankly, my viewpoint is so simple and without prestige. Who doesn’t want to be king/queen/conqueror and ruler?! Hook a sister up with some power!

But I prefer real power to a chimera.

All right! Now Hear This!

Time for a writin’! Been wantin’ 2 write 4 3 days now, always puttin’ it off 4 paid work$! Which r necessary, but u know, so is emotional health.

What’s the diff btw emotional health and mental health? When I started writin’ the FSB agin, a couple weeks ago, I realized that all the work I was doing was not really healthy: I might have been pullin’ in the Cashes, but my heart – it fucking hurt like hell! I realized that I had neglected my emotional health and that if I did that, all the Money in the world was not going to make my life what I wanted it to be: secure, free, happy and valuable. And I finally understood Andy Warhol’s comment that he was most thankful for his health – he actually wasn’t being sardonic!

I am in a weird place. I’ve been here before. I think, several times: once, when I left my bf of seven years and once, last February when I lost my last job. It’s a place of holding. It’s a Wait and See place – a place where I cannot see into the future. A place of anticipation – a place where I know that I must remain calm at because if I don’t, the dragonflies/people will leave. And the people are necessary for this place to turn into a new home.

What will this home look like? I think there will be more dragonflies/people in it, but I won’t care about them the way I have in the past. In comparison, I’ll be indifferent. That is to say, they’ll have more freedom to be idiosyncratic, irrational and well, human. Maybe they will be louder in my life and maybe they will leave messes in my living room.

They won’t have to be Christian, they won’t have to follow the same political parties or causes, they won’t have to dress the same as me or work in the same field; hell, they won’t even have to speak the same language as me.

The Sickness returns. Inertia. Do I go for a jog or bike to Donald’s at Hastings and Nanaimo, buy groceries and come back? Or just start working: attempt to get the last 4 hours in – scratch that – work on my client’s site so he’s happy with me?

I don’t want to work. Nor jog. Maybe I would have went to my friend’s media event, or even to a yoga class… Blaaaaaaaah. I wish I could stop existing. Yesterday was a perfect day; today, in contrast, is evil.

I can’t get off when I have sex. As I said to my bf, I don’t have the energy anymore, to go there. The neurons play around each other, but they don’t actually connect. Blaaaaaaaah. Old, worn out parts – a dying sexual self… Blunted, constant itch that won’t go away.

Oh mother, let me hold you.
Oh mother, I want to rock you.
Be my baby.
Be my son.

Mother, I want to rock you.

Don’t cry.

Please.

Can you not cry, just this once?

How can I ever comfort you if I am nothing but your daughter? Don’t you get it?

I can’t comfort you if you won’t let me become you.

So do me a favour: smile from the depths of your being. I know you didn’t love my father. Maybe that was hard for me to accept as a kid but you must realize that my father was MY FATHER! Not yours.

You chose him for whatever – oh, you didn’t. It was either him or a life as handmaiden to your brothers and sisters. Would it have been a life more lonely than the pining, keening, curling and clenching loneliness of the farm? The farm! That was the crux, wasn’t it?

You did not want to go back to the farm. It was not one of those decisions that you could change your mind about, once it was done.

Monday, 2 pm. I’ve been up since 9:15 am, but I still have not left the house. I want to hate myself: I want to punish myself for being lazy - undisciplined - but I won't.

Coffee. Turning on computer and backing up files. Checking email. Writing email regarding:

• potential office space (for the fall – not sure if the warehouse studio is going to be practical);
• hanging with some peeps I wanna befriend, possibly collaborate on creative projects with;
• conference planning meeting;
• hotel for conference speaker;
• performance and video idea for dance troupe for conference event.

Brushing teeth, eating lunch and doing dishes.

Wow! 5 hours for all that. No messing around either.

The email to dance troupe took some time because I had to research their work and strategize how to frame proposal.

We have the comment now! Fix- pronto-style by Mike!

Thanks for pointing out the broked comments, Maureen!

Image from: http://www.peterpayne.net

Can I create what I need? Can I manufacture it out of thin air?

Here is what I need:

Someone whom I admire, trust and respect puts hers or his arms around me. I resist but they hold firmly but gently, allowing me to calm down. Maybe they pat my head.

They rock me, let me cry. With a flick of their hand, they motion to a servant who disappears and reappears with a glass of cold, clear water. I drink. They address me, filled with faith in me. Love, respect, the offer of help, assurance that I will always be nurtured, aided and ultimately free, assurance that there is a safety net; that I can never really hurt myself, because not only will they teach me to live, they won’t let me die.

Here’s the best part: I believe them.

Image from: http://www.flickr.com/photos/arihahn

I have a Facebook friend who posts tons of photos of people. He’s in “issue-based” politics, as he says, which means that though his day job is a campaign coordinator for the Wilderness Committee, he’s also active in the Stop the Gateway Project, Save UBC Farm, the Green Party and a host of other activities. He’s also a filmmaker and an awesome and engaging speaker.

Along with his steady stream of newspaper stories, invites to demos and actions and personal commentary on issues and events, Ben posts pictures – lots of them. Often, they are just of people he is hanging around with and his cats. He uses his cellphone and uploads them on the spot to his Facebook page.

It’s an ingenious, simple use of technology and resources. You can buy an expensive fancy camera or spend money on a data plan for your cellphone, take pics as you go about your life and share ‘em. I bet you will get more fun out of the phone camera and data plan than from an additional, heavier unit you’d have to carry around, unpack and deploy whenever you wanted to use it.

There’s only been one thing I’ve ever been good at: failure. Oh sure, I’m good at “graphic design” and “writing” and “organizing” – but really, it always comes down to the same fucking thing: I have no staying power. Scratch that. It always comes down to the same fucking thing: programming.

“Do not challenge.”
“Follow the Rules.”
“Make yourself small so others look big.”

“Be good, but not too good.”

“Your reward is in the afterlife.”

So I fail over and over and over again. And other people look good. I, on the other hand, look… less and less like the wild horse everyone wants to tame.

So many plans, so little accomplishment. (God will save you.) So little will power. (God will save you.) Scratch that.

“Make yourself good, but not so good that others look bad.” (Whoops, you’re getting too good, better change focus.”)