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September 29, 2006

Burst Pipe


Originally Uploaded here by soh_phee_ah
Literally.


I got home and my living room was a pool. A pool that has begun to dry up, as moisture was almost everywhere but the water level had receeded to the center twelve feet of my living room instead of going to the edges. I'm still finding all the deposits, borrowed a wet-dry vac to deal with the big ones. Spare bed, windowsill, living room, bedroom a tad. I think the closets remain unscathed. Thank the gods for that.


Despite the fury, the cursing, I can't escape the feeling of just how lucky I am. I have so many electronics in the living room it's almost unconsionable, and it seems none of them got damaged. Ok, so my spare electronics got soaked pretty good in the drawer above the spare bed, but I think they may have survived the ordeal. And if not, whatever, they're spare.


Also, it means I cleaned behind the computer, because, as there was still broken glass back there... well, I'll let you do the math.


See? I'm really quite positive in most regards. Pragmatic, maybe, might be more accurate.


Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: Zoë Keating

Posted by Kurrs at 6:27 PM |

September 26, 2006

Line Breaks


Originally Uploaded here by gravityroom


You are the love of my life.

Things will change.

One would hope for the better.

It's not like you're the only one.


I hide in a castle of reason.

Constructed to raise myself out of the quagmire of my own misconceptions.

My natural state is negative.

It would be fallacious to assume the world were so.


I am sick.

There's alot in that little sentence.


Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: VNV Nation - Empires
More:


I Think You Misunderstand
I Think You Underestimate

I knew you would
But I did it anyways

Somewhere between shame and regret
Through desire and loss
And finally resting

Alone

Posted by Kurrs at 12:30 AM |

September 25, 2006

These Things I Want To Speak Of


Originally Uploaded here by papersculptures

I see you, and most of the madness is gone, left with mostly just the sense that I could write on my hand I want to fuck you. Hollow, mostly, with the trim of love and affection remaining, connecting, like rings of a chain, complicating. There is little more than that, and yet it stretches thinly towards the horizon, impossibly thin.

I'm stuck with the emotional bondage of affection, like spun rope binding me between me and other. I seem to get more than fair share, mostly due to my lack of singularity. The problem is exacerbated by the complete inability to form romantic relations. You see, it is almost incapable of not being unfair, beyond the regular disintegration of my lovers, like Icarii to solar height. I'm still human, no matter the anecdotal evidence to the contrary, and I covet the comfortable exchanges I see others partake in. I'm envious of my surrogates and their dearth of affection. (Pickiness is characterised not by absence but by narrowing an existing set of options). Then, at least, the absence of involvement wouldn't be complicated by attraction. Congruency is all I am jealous of, nothing more.

I'm really sick, I kinda hurt everwhere. I hope I'm better by tomorrow. I'm dubious though.


I drove my brother to the airport, the next time we'll see each other is in Halifax.

Written On: Mother's Computer
Currently Listening: Zero 7 - The Garden
Alternative Title: Solitude And Isolation Breed Pronominal Egocentricism

The blog is supposed to look like this.

Posted by Kurrs at 11:09 AM | | Comments (1)

September 24, 2006

Sometimes The Sun Comes Out At Night


Originally Uploaded here by eyecatcher

I feel terrible. I caught plague from my brother. Malaise is the word du jour. It is his birthday.

I feel like I made a mistake. Weakness, nothing more.

Balancing one's own ego with the necessary elements of management is tricky. Sometimes even dishonest. Regardless, the success of the project is paramount. This is almost true of anything worth doing.

I'm hungrier than usual.

I've been playing Soul Calibur III. I beat Night Terror with Kilik, which means I'm awesome (or that Kilik is the cheapest character ever, not sure which), as well as unlocking all the regular characters. I always thought Kilik reminded me of Karim, and Xianghua as Yuen-Ying, but that's me being fanciful mostly. I plan to buy a copy.

Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: Zero 7 - The Garden

Posted by Kurrs at 3:36 PM | | Comments (1)

September 20, 2006

Reclaiming Meaning


Original Uploaded
here by fatpie
I walked away from work today, caked in mud and sweat and rain, my tool belt under my sleeveless hoody swinging softly like a gunsligner's. My filthy heterosexual drag. I felt sharp, like I could cut through life like a knife, the weariness of labour giving me strength rather than leaving me empty. The weight of my deeds, past and current, building an undercurrent of happiness again.


I see your face in person or on digital celluloid and my heart whispers to me. It's easy to miss something when everything went downhill afterward it ended. Too much, like everyone else I was. No one has quite loved me like you did and I must admit, I miss it, even if you weren't the longest or the most, and often the opposite. I almost wrote to you, but thought the better of it. I hope you are well.



My brother is in town. I love him.



Originally Uploaded
here by Karon

I ran into an old friend today. She's one of the two who managed to survive the transition from dependance to independance. There might be others, but forgetting has meaning, so we'll leave the number barely larger than only. Respectable, us both, in our own ways.

Just because I don't write about you doesn't mean I don't think about you. Every day.

We will never be
A nuclear family
But a rainbow will
Begin at our feet...


The sun used to make me happy. Now it is the rain.

Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: Zero 7 - The Garden
Alternative Title: Necessarily Alone

Posted by Kurrs at 8:25 PM |

September 18, 2006

Before Bed


Originally Uploaded here by kcowekung

Goodnight sweet things.

This scar is a fleck on my procelain skin.

To all those whose hearts swell with happiness, who fall into the comfortable arms of another, who have the comfortable turn of routine or who are smitten with the random fits of affection that drive some, whose bodies shake with sorrow as their tears paint their pillows, who want to scream into the rain at the injustice of loss or incompatability, who dream during the day of locks or eyelashes, who look back at the past with regret or towards the future with hope, or who lay comfortably alone...

You were what I wanted.
I gave what I gave.
I'm not sorry I met you.

Words, words, words.

To bed.

Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: Stars - Your Ex-Lover Is Dead (song d/l)

Posted by Kurrs at 12:04 AM | | Comments (2)

September 15, 2006

Cracks


Originally Uploaded here by Ralf Stockmann

I just got home.

I ripped my pants today.

I'm sore.

The rain didn't last long enough.

I feel kinda crazy.


Written On: Home Computer

Oh, download this album, it's awesome.

Currently Listening: Émilie Simon - Végétal (album d/l)

Posted by Kurrs at 6:32 PM |

September 14, 2006

Limbo


Originally Uploaded here by AllenHsu

I'm losing my ability to tell time, referring to all past events as yesterday even when I know they weren't. Those moments-prior are divided cleanly into those that exist and those that don't. Sometimes it seems like those that do not outnumber those that do, although my ability to distinguish, no matter their visceral appeal, means I don't question my sanity. Limbo, where time and events blur, watching the old book close and the new one appear. Like the rain, right on cue, blurring off with indecision into the future. Treading water in a sea of uncertainty, like a cloud of probability.

Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: Stars - Set Yourself On Fire (album d/l)

Posted by Kurrs at 8:52 PM |

September 13, 2006

Scribbling Finished Pages At Noon


Originally Uploaded here by RAF [dform]

She called me.

We met. I tried not to turn to her, into her, like a sunflower to the sun, but I couldn't help it, she radiates to me. I told my story, our story, without embellishment and including those bits that she would have missed. I said all the things I needed to say. She said very little, but she said enough, and nothing surprised me.

I'm happy.

I'm not, but she knew that. If you would permit the phrase, I wilt a bit without her. But I didn't ask for her back, and neither did she, which is how it should be. The future is not known, but it wrapped everything up, finished the piece so that I can leave it. As I left, I couldn't feel sad, because that would mean the story continued, that the book continued to write itself. Instead, the back cover closed as I walked away.

Afterwards, nothing, absence, emptiness without pain. I'm waiting for the next book to start, and as I was walking home I thought to myself a suitable line to begin.

And then it began to rain...

Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: Émilie Simon - Végétal (album d/l)

Posted by Kurrs at 7:20 PM |

September 6, 2006

Treading Water


Originally Uploaded
here by addie_reiss
It's what I've been doing, while awake. It's what I want. Go to work, get home, do something without long term ramafications, sleep, wake, repeat. Sprinkle with food and passtimes. After baking a while, add some art and music. You get the idea.


I can't really say I'm doing much of anything otherwise. Do what I'm told, or what I feel like doing in the moment. Some science fiction television, some webcomic work, korean movie mondays, sleeping in, drinking, concerts... the little things that all fell through the cracks over the last few months (years?). It is erroneous to say they didn't matter, but they lack the gravitas that I am accustomed to.


I needed this. I can't really say I'm happy, but at least I have time to reflect, to pause, to sit. Time seems to be my greatest ally, all I need is to wait and most things will sort themselves out inside of me. The world manages itself just fine in my absence. Not unguided, but certainly without.


Written On: Tim's Computer
Currently Listening: The Cranberries - No Need To Argue

Posted by Kurrs at 2:46 PM | | Comments (1)

September 4, 2006

Of Dreams and Tears

The tearing madness that I require is the same thing that destroys me.


Measuring something's worth in its ability to ruin you is very self-destructive.


I dreamt about you again.


I could handle your absence if my subconcious didn't construct you out of memories.


No one needs this, this is why I'm single.



Written On: Tim's Computer
Currently Watching: Sia - Breathe Me (video)

Posted by Kurrs at 6:11 AM |

September 1, 2006

I Had A Dream Last Night And It Fit Me Like A Glove


Originally Uploaded here by gms

It was a collage of moments, most that didn't exist, of places that did. It was like the line of Sin City, stretching through the patio of %&#* Benny's, or something similar, all wrought iron and christmas lights. I was in my big boots and dress, dreads down and long black gloves. My family were having food on the tables. Then, you were there, in all your Samoan glory, and I lept into your arms, boots and thin legs coming precariously close to concussing the sitting members of my immediate blood relations. I didn't care, your eyes sparkled with laughter and playful derision and I was yours, completely and utterly in that moment, caution and the passivity of my bisexuality thrown to the wind and wayside.

A dream, nothing more.

Written On: Home Computer

Posted by Kurrs at 2:17 PM |