Kurrs' Digital Tapestry of Words

Originally Uploaded here by tmak

I don't even remember what started it, or necessarily what the pieces were. Not even necessarily unwanted, either, some things are worth a certain amount of gravitas, those things that sit at the bottom of your stomac and rest upon your forehead. Like a sickness, a general sense of malaise. It probably also has to do with the comedown from Sunday. It's been a hard day.

I don't understand how things are so easy for you. There is a part of me, that puritanical reactionary force that wants to condemn your actions, to connect sex with sin. But who am I to judge the happiness of others? Perhaps your garb of dysfunctional interpersonal mores give you comfort, perhaps that mask is safety for you. You seem to get along fine, why should I be so critical?

I don't know how it will feel when you're gone. It's so soon, yet so far away in my mind. A natural ending, an expected one, but I simply don't know how I will feel afterwards. No matter how good at predicting the actions of others, I remain a mystery to myself in this regard. Too much bias I suppose.

I watched a movie last night, and felt such complete empathy with both of the main characters. One, it made sense: she fell completely so someone so terribly awful for her but it didn't matter, and when it was over, she couldn't let go. Hardly surprising. But, strangely, I felt for the other as well. It was a game, friends that became lovers that became friends. Lost in someone else's eyes. Cold, removed, but not unkind. Rang quite true in this little heart of mine.

I remember a time when I was younger, when I felt everything so strongly that it blinded me. I feel more fully now: wearing sunglasses protects your eyes from damage and damaged eyes can't see so well. I am more... complete... than I ever was before. But it's strange now, the coldness I talked about. It's crept up on me, and now I find myself unable to talk about how I feel sometimes. I've never had this problem before. I held everything down, I was a liar, a counterfeit, but it was all there, underneath the mask. Now, it's like there is distance between me and the way I feel. I can't help but wonder if this is just a new way of being dishonest, that now I merely lie to myself instead of to you. But it's not, I can see it, it's just far away now.

Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: Sigur Ros, Nine Inch Nails, Postal Service, amongs others

Posted by Kurrs at 5:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I may have done more excercise than I ever have before in my life yesterday (though I must admit, the time I heaved up a few metric tons of metal for counter-weight onto the roof of a building is a close contender). I went up and down the stairs at Wreck Beach 10 times yesterday, each time carrying something very heavy (2 tables, one barbecue, one sink, several gallons of water, 2 propane tanks, 2 wall-less tents, and lots and lots of food). I am very sore.

Ack, body, damaged.

But the stand is gorgeous.

Positively. Wonderfully. Gorgeous.

Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: Venus Hum
Currently Eating: Moon Struck's White Moon Cheese on crackers

Posted by Kurrs at 11:47 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I'm going at a relatively extreme pace, hitting life as hard as I can with undaunted persistance. Things are going along nicely, the business opening with a minimal amount of capital investment or headache, but it still feels gross to work 16 hours and, in lieu of being paid for it, have spent a thousand dollars instead. I realise that I will see all this money back and more, but it will really be nice to actually start getting revenue.

Angus is being a sweetheart, helping me out today out of the goodness of his own heart. We're going to be making tables, one of the last capital investments I need to buy into, and I'm pretty sure part of his desire to help out comes from being able to build some cool shit without paying for materials. However, donating a day of his life is no small gift, and I treasure it.

I feel a bit in an emotional funk. It isn't getting in the way at all, it just... exists... I'm sure you've noticed.

Written On: Mother's Computer
Currently Eating: Grapefruit

Posted by Kurrs at 7:56 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Originally Uploaded here by 3amfromtokyo

Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: DeathBoy - Anuism (feat. Mog Xykogen) (song d/l)

Posted by Kurrs at 9:35 PM | Permalink

I yelled at people recently, and it felt good. Accusations or frustrations, commiserations or condemnations, it felt good.

Sometimes my social graces crush me under the weight of their honeyed conversation pieces, in flagrant dichotomy with how I was once perceived. Now, like a Marxist uprising, I have seized both the methods of perception but also the perceptions themselves. My thoughts wander about eastern european princesses and a lack of knowledge. Acts of communication so broadly defined as to even include and not necessarily involve are contraband.



This music reminds me of you, infuriating in content but so immensely beautiful in form. I wish that my affectations weren't diminished because of the quantity of affections. So much is given, so much praise or support or so-called love, that what I offer is never even noticed. Par for the course. But it all piles up, like so many prayers on rice paper, and, in the end amounts to nothing more than ashes and dust as sacrifice. Maybe that's what you want. The work of the sculptor is ignored, slowly chiseling away at granite, so much that his hands begin to run red under the effort. I'm not even sure I want to be here, but it's my piece, and I will catch you if I can. And, of all of them, mine is legitimate. Run around with a midnight blanket over your head, you'll convince yourself eventually that the moth holes are stars, and forget that the real ones burn far enough away that you will be long dead before the light ever reaches you.

Sometimes blessings hurt. Alot. I am not so naive to think that my situation isn't good.



I'm forgetting you again, and in some bizarre way I remain yours. I even have trouble writing about you, despite the fact that you haunt my thoughts more than I probably let on to anyone. Some know, but that comes from deduction not observation. I miss you, and all your imperfections, and, sometimes, I wonder, perhaps because of them. All I can manage is a Please come back to me even when you've never really left, but it describes how I feel. I'm busy these days, so I'm not even sure I'd have time, but I'm fanciful too.

Albeit more practical.



Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: Wolf Parade - Apologies To The Queen Mary

Posted by Kurrs at 11:23 AM | Permalink

Everything is running along nicely, from theatre to business to comics. Practically speaking, I have nothing to complain about. My life is about as awesome as it has ever been. One time my surrogate sister became uncomfortable at my rating people, better or worse. However, I'd rather be honest than nice. It's not like I'm even claiming that there is some absolute measure of betterness, more that some people are better for me than others. The result was that I mentioned that things just continue on an upward trend, with friends, work, life, emotions, and even lovers for the most part. I definitely trip occasionally, but the trend, oh, it is upwards.

And if I can fit it in this week, I'll buy a cello. Awesomeness reigns.

Can I kiss you?

No, I'm comfortable with my sexuality and I won't have you challenging that.

I went to Sanctuary last night with my brother. And, I must admit, I had an absolute blast. Now, in all fairness, I arrived drunk out of my tree (a fair amount of Gin in a very short time seems very effective, not to mention they were giving free beer away... I can't help but wonder if that had been a mistake...), so perhaps my perception was... skewed... However, the end result ( fun(event, friends, alcohol) ) was pretty awesome.

Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: Spark That Screams (website)

Posted by Kurrs at 12:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Originally Uploaded here

[rant] Efficient markets hypothesis my ass ... lack of property rights ... human capital market ... institutional rigidity ... terrible incentive structures ... supply chain my ass ... grumble grumble[/rant]

Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: Hovhaness, Alan - Symphony No.2, "Mysterious Mountain" (download)
Currently Eating: Gnocchi and Pesto

Posted by Kurrs at 11:21 AM | Permalink

Originally Uploaded here by cabbit

She's about your age, not much older than you are, she's thirty. I must admit, that one struck, it run like the rap of a mallet upon bronze, moreso perhaps because it came from my mother. Not negatively, just jarring. If this is what the mid-twenties are like, then fuck yeah, I've arrived and it's better than anything that came before. I think people age badly because they don't learn how to sit in their skin as it changes. Then, as time wears on, nostalgia changes the past that sucked into something to be desired again. I am acutely interested in progress and growth, because it is how life operates. I am also fascinated by endings, but am distinctly unconcerned with my own. Once it happens, my opinion won't matter much anymore except as it rests in those that remain. Growth. Progress.

Time is slipping by with frightening speed. the Vegan Pirate will be up and running within three weeks, the auditions for The Untold Crimes of Insomniacs is next saturday, and the webcomic gets closer and closer to actual regular e-publication. I got a message from Y^2 on Saturday. She mentioned she was hanging out with Beth (also an oboist, weird, neh?) and that she wanted to see me. It didn't make any sense, because I had seen her recently and Beth was arriving on a Thursday, but Saturday isn't near Thursday. And then, by logical deduction, I realised I hadn't seen her since Wednesday and yet it had felt like a day, tops. The pace of things right now is almost... terrifying. Erin was right, self-directed goes faster than anything else.

Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: Bubba Sparxxx - Comin Round (song d/l) Hip Hop & Country warnings

Posted by Kurrs at 11:28 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Originally Uploaded here by Dubiosity

Today I did something I didn't think I would for some time. Convergence, a good enough set of coincidences and reasons. Well met, to old friends, and all that rot. I see the beginnings of a beautiful old relationship.

Things go, plans progress, everything will work out. Faith is unnecessary, I have reason.

Meloncholy haunts my steps, and wine is on my lips. But, I'm not drinking because I'm sad, I'm drinking because. It tasted nice enough, and it wasn't escapism, so who am I to criticise?

Folds of sleep caress the corners of my eyelids. I will obey their enticing touch soon enough.

Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: Tool - 10,000 Days (d/l part II)

Posted by Kurrs at 2:41 AM | Permalink

Originally Uploaded here by pcgf_2003

Prowling along fell cherry homes turned into the points of supplication towards an oft anthropomorphised Deity, a new dance worked itself out without my knowledge or even my wilful participation. It wasn't you I was talking to, but it was you I was dancing with. A singularity of territoriality between you and I, strange in the juxtaposition between knowledge and will, ignorance and coercion. I suppose true coercion is impossible, and power comes from awareness first, but my action is tainted by your involvement. It isn't surprising, your lack of self-awareness does this often. My own pride holds me back from withdrawing. This thing, this feeling, this interaction, is mine. It gets tangled up in strange mores of ownership of the other, of an artificial cultural 'economy of scarcity', but I know the source of my sense of indignation.

Upon arrival, I didn't know, I didn't perceive that. All I knew was that I leaned and so did you and it took a conscious act of will not to fall into old habits that don't exist yet. Physical exchanges that are placed under limitation. I remember moments like these, they are telling, prophetic and predicting. They've happened before. That moment of got you often without even meaning to. You're too skilful of a predator, you catch them without their even knowing, and because of that you're totally uninteresting. More velociraptor than rex.

Behind curtains, in that secret place where my impracticality struggles with my pragmatism with the same resolution of a rising and setting sun, I'm not on even footing. Like the mythologically embellished folds of black Muslim fabric, a hidden place exists where I only let you. Romantic and savage, that point of madness that I need. Sometimes I wonder if it's too much to ask of anyone. It's absence gnaws at me, exacerbated by the missing you. But that's fine, I can wait, I have before.

You're like a taste, like the smell upon the air you can only catch with your tongue. Folds of velvet and skin transformed by synesthesia. Cold turkey is the only solution - like an opiate. Surely you must feel disconnect from others, your use of capitalisation reveals it, some idealised objectification of the self and those you love, those you need. You mistake the gasping, the sensation of drowning for something more than it is. Visceral. Sensory. Input. Nothing more. Everything has meaning because you grant it, even religion is a fabrication, an artistic rendition of truth. Don't forget that a meditation on nothingness is, into itself, still something.

Things are going well for me.

Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: Tool - 10,000 Days (d/l part I)

Posted by Kurrs at 11:38 AM | Permalink

Originally Uploaded here by thepres6

I graduated. I've been saying it alot, and somehow it feels like a lie. Not the factually incorrect variety, but that sense of dishonesty when you say something you don't believe. I know that it is, in fact, true, but pieces of me don't believe in defiance of the objective truth of it. Maybe it's because that the chances I'll never end up in an educational institution in an official capacity are approximately zero. But I don't think so. Instead, incredulity reigns, a sovereign of surprise, the despot of astonishment, etc etc.

Yesterday was intense, another combination of unrelated twins, a veritable artistic explosion alongside a hunger implosion. I went to the VSO in the morning to listen to some Brahms, then went to Peter Pan in the afternoon, and just barely made it to the Radical Knitting Collective show. I also almost fell over a few times from hunger, plus with the stabbing pains between the second and third things on my itinerary, I think I've been eating better in the past. I'm not sure how my eating schedule got quite this bad, but I need to fix it, and soon. I already have enough trouble putting enough food in me so that I live, let alone having to deal with poor eating habits to boot.

Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: Jem - Finally Woken (album d/l)

Posted by Kurrs at 2:16 PM | Permalink

Originally Uploaded here

I had to describe myself as obtuse right after there was a moment of meta-surprise. Maybe I've just been especially quiet as of late as it regards to anything that isn't easy to explain in an excessively linear fashion so that it conforms to the demands of language. It isn't the way I think, but I suppose that organic growth that pertains to carbon instead of certification doesn't transcribe well. Let alone the nebulous sensations that sometimes grip me which don't even conform to complex rules that would belong better on plants than on paper. I think that is perhaps why many people are terrible communicators about how to explain how they feel, also burdened by the division between linearity and thought.

Memorable still works better than any other, a series of sloping lines that feel like they follow some underlying and easily recognised - but not identified - function, in the same way that fractals or a parabola do, but less abstract. I seem to walk softly around everyone I'm romantically intimate with these days. I could use some trite metaphor about wounds that need healing, but you get the idea without my bothering. I can feel the time tightening, much like I would imagine the dimentions above the third would feel if I imagine them in my mind. Not that one could conceive of dimentions curling in onto themselves and us perceiving their interaction in terms of forces, much like a bowling ball on a mattress, but it still evokes a certain feeling.

I'm feeling odd and disconnected. Up, down, up, down, a roller-coaster of instability brought about by success and lack, achievement and desire, caught between long-term and short-term, something that truly matters and the other that just throws me into disequilibrium.

Written On: Erin's Computer
Currently Listening: Johnny Cash - One (U2 cover) (song d/l)

Posted by Kurrs at 5:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

You'll get your honours degree!!!

I'm running around screaming. It's done.

Written On: Mother's Computer

Posted by Kurrs at 3:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)