Summer 2009, will you marry me?

Ah man! It's been almost a month, but Canada is rocking my socks off. I'm shipping off to Alaska tomorrow morning and I am going to miss this balls to the wall place.

Last night I did Osheaga. Girl Talk hit with pounding synth beats and La Ronde (the local Six Flags amusement park) serenaded us with fireworks. The weather was absolutely perfect. I can't say anyone could ever plan a better party on paper.

My time here is clearly winding down and with my future up in the air here comes this pesky down, depressed me again. But seriously, lately I've done everything from trying to illegally escape Canada on foot, to riding home on a stolen Bixi at 4 in the morning, to developing a reputation for drinking everything out of extra large yogurt cups.

I just can't take blogging. Too much of a responsibility. I feel guilty. I can't update the blogosphere on my comings and goings. MY comings and goings. I can't, in reality, because why would anyone care, either way?

But I trudge. And my spell check seems screwed. And I've met the best people in the world. HERE. And I'm leaving in 24 hours.

"Je suis contente parse que nous somme ensemble."

Mired in meager misery

It seems my life has gone trotters up. But, I've been contacted to substitute teach this Friday. It won't be fun, but I'll know what it is to have a pay check again, however meager.

The irony of life. I was comfortable in the ignorance of not knowing how much better things have gotten. Sorry for being so vague here. But, now that I learn how new and improved the new and improved has become, I feel spited.

"at your wake as I peek in/
look in your casket, feeling sarcastic/
'look at him, still sleeping'"
Jay Z on 22 2's

Today I'm feeling:

spited

But we all die in the end, don't we?

Mayday!

I made it out. April 2007 has been nixed... finally. I will take a couple days and recoup.

In the meantime, my bedroom is going from Split Pea Soup yellow to Beachglass. It's a more peaceful hue! Can't wait to put the White trim on it. I feel better just thinking about the change of ambiance.

Today I'm feeling:

Gleeful!

You should've seen this post before I changed it! I bitched it up a little. School girl like. Now, talk that good shit in the comments section people.

My invisible city in the sea

Pigeons atop a bust in Midtown Manhattan.

There's not one way to just say this right/
I've got calloused fingers, blisters on my soles, and I can't sleep nights/
I've been touched deep within my soul, your fingerprint's on my life/
We were supposed to be niggers for it,
now I'm forlorn with the whole concrete jungle to forage/
I've tapped my inner artist, got a job and now I'm a tourist/
In the fast lane, but I'm a measly tortoise/
I've been purported to be a porpoise/
the smartest mammal in the sea/
I've built Atlantis, an invisible fortress even I can't see/
every now and then I can't eat, I can't breathe/
have we already established that I can't sleep?/
Last I checked, my fuckin' pulse still beats,
excuse my French, par le vois and we we/
there I got it out my system, there should be no more/
I'll check the rest of them outbursts on the street or at the door/
just so long as you promise to promise that it'll be worth it indeed/
and if in the future should our paths do meet/
you forgo the dollars and let the good times and laughs proceed/
the last time this grown man cried was this week/
and the time before that...? Yeah, that too was this week/
I don't mean to come off as being too weak/
but more honest, I'll be the first to admit that this is too me/
why hide? I want to be you wanting to be me/
and you probably don't even know and never will see it/
in sad times, kimosabi, I conjure up new laugh lines/
and never sweat it long, I wash it off come bath time!
original, written in these past ten minutes, Sean Luxembourg, March 29

Today I'm feeling:

touched

Like you'd never know. Wouldn't it be nice if we all gathered around the wash basin, cleaned our mitts, then held hands and sung in chorus? Or if you wrote me a couple lines.