san pellegrino... thank you

off to try some of belgium's famous chocolate


hey heather and morgan... guess what you two are getting!




mmmm chocolate!!


a funky pup we went to for vin chaude


my third cup of vin chaude... drunken tummy ache!

snooping on magama's computer

camal gouly gougounne nouru
natacha iman marion













gouly et nargis <3 <3



















ali et gouly

weather emergency

i leave in the AM for snowy Belgium. I ate vietnamese food in piccadilli circus today and spoke nothing but french all through dinner. what acculturation. i love it. little mr Chi (our wonderful scam-artist of a server) loved us too. and oh yes, i have pictures with him. thumbs-up and all.



yesterday the EuroStar broke down for 15 hours. passengers were stuck underground (under sea level) with no food, water, light, ventillation nor working toilets for 15 hours. can you imagine? fucking ill-prepared primitive fools. that's unheard of. isn't there some sort of pully they can attach to the trains and yank the muther fucker out?

anyways, let this be a lesson to these people... don't panic when you get a cm of snow (read: a thin layer of frost!) and your entire city shuts down, cars crash into parked cars and people packs their bunkers full of non-perishable items.... just make sure you have some water on all of your trains.

fools.

comical first-world nations.



soho porn strip

cko

i thought that it would be impressive if i got all up with another terrier. you know. to be all like, i heart dogs.


i left a dance party in camal's kitchen to post this. he's playing the worlds best jazz music. he's like my dad... but may be cooler? uh oh!



olivia nargis and i. olivia, you're not fat. you're a cute little munchkin.

i like you so much

i like you so much i'd smell atreyu's bum for you... but just don't post it on facebook


...heh ok morgan <3

the girl from barcelona...

We had an unspoken respect and understanding. We each had our own schedules in the day time: she would work and I would ride my bike until supper time. Sometimes I’d come back early and we’d go on long walks together. I loved watching her. There was a quirky charm about her that I found comforting.

I was wearing a pink jumper the day that she told me her life story… I still think that pink and brown look great together. I would sit on the floor as she puttered about around me. Party because I was lazy, but also because I liked how she towered over me. She was a tall kind of woman, with a bold, strong character to back her up. Her smile was infectious and her laughter, contagious. Sitting on the floor of her kitchen, I listened to her story. She ran back and forth from her kitchen to her bathroom as I asked a hundred and one questions. I watched her obsessively clean her counters and she’d mumble things like “I hate dirty sinks” under her breath while scrubbing. When she made a run to the cleaning supply closet, I jolted to my feet and poured my mug of tea all over her sink and counter then plopped myself back to where I was. When she came back, I could hardly hold in my laughter. She called me her Little Bug and ruffled my hair. I don’t remember why or how I became her Little Bug but I was, and I am to this day.

That night we sat and watched James Bond movies back to back. We listened to the train roll by and played card games. That night loops over in our minds. Every time we meet, we sing one line from a song I bet neither of us remembers, but it went “…the girl from Barcelona…”

fast car

i woke up wanting to make sure you're ok. are you ok? oh you are. shoot. i mean, no wait, that's a good thing. cuz i think about you a lot. i guess it's good that you're good, right? *sigh*

and then she kissed my lips and inhaled my chosen path. traced my past with little care. disregard for back then... cuz... like... who the fuck cares, right?

five hours of ani difranco really can make everything better. so can pulling off the road to... readjust. speeding into darkness, leaving whatever we want behind, pulling our future dreams - - - trailing - - - stuck to the bumper's of experience.

i think about you a lot. i'm happy you're ok. i'm happy you're ok. i'm happy you're ok. i think about you a lot.

tomorrow's car ride

You're a good kid on the right train track. Your struggles are temporary and your love is infinite. Your expenses are disposable and you're meant for greatness. We can all change the world with the most modest of grandeur and with the largest baby steps... anyone who tells you different is a fucking lethargic devil.

You emit an energy that tells me that you will never stop - trying - pushing - changing. Drown or float? You will float, my friend.

One day you will unclench those fists and pace your breathing. One day it will all change for you.

jam with music like you jam with language

this feels so good

oh Tascan and Red Shoes
you plus you equals a happy me
last night i recorded pyk with a little gadget and it kept me up all night. musical notes poured on top of me. drenching me with stars and treble clefs. filling my mouth with an anxious tempo.

oh this feels so good.

never loose the groove to find a note

www.myspace.com/faithiman

msn convo #897534

lululemon meditators
"go eat a dick"
Oprah's calling for your peaceful ocean whipsers. next up, top 40 white supremacy. i love rich sheltered suburban white girls... especially the deep ones.
"lululemon's got a 50% off sale today. "
you're "so in like right now". "run away together." you deserve it. heal your heart.

lung smell

kissing smell

so delicious

write

"being back in Toronto... hmm... I don't have much to say. Part of me wants to pack this journal up and put it away - it has lived its purpose; but I feel as through this story, this journey isn't done. I've only been back a few days and it feels as though the tour ended weeks ago. Is it part f my OCD that I want to fill up more pages? I mean, if I retire this book then there are about thirty naked, unused, unnoticed, rejected pages. save the trees"

what i learned in school today

photoshop lesson #1 "play with shit"

click on me

practice makes perfect

exactly a year ago i put on this silver necklace that said 'allah' in arabic

yesterday it fell off of my neck.

i think i know why...

r/evolution

promiscuity; exploration/exploitation; freedom; constraints; chemistry / technology / sex; regulations; economics; post-shame; subcultures / counter-cultures; personal relationships with sexuality; body hair!; women's health; abortion; birth control; increased access to information; reclaiming; choice; HIV/AIDS, STDs/STIs; the future; the teenage years; DIY; Madonna; postmodern autonomy; 1950s suburbia to the flowery fields of the 1960s; class; body image; media; the family; morality; language; change; power; fluidity; eliminating / penetrating / creating ideological boundaries
...
What does "Sexual R/Evolution" evoke to you now?

unconditional looping mix tapes

coffee... coffee....tea.... coffee... smoothie... coffee... Last night at the EX. My stomach hurts from laughing so hard. Man that's love. That's compassion. That's history. Stability. They love me more than anyone else and i feel it. They're my top 6. My unconditional lovers... and I feel it.

Karma found me alone on the dark streets of last nights straggle. Dancing with my true love - hand in hand - reminiscing, we stumbled upon Karma - she found me. Clothed, enclosed; a shy secret tossed to the curb. Rejected but not unwanted. I slowly unclothed her to reveal an abused and battered pear shaped body. Mangled and torn horse hair held her spine together. She came to me because, for once, karma needed some lovin.

Kill those nerves with a bazooka gun *POW* *POW*. It'll be great and you'll probably love it. If not - the worst case scenario... you hate it. And leave not the end of the world... right? Be proud of yourself darling, you have accomplished a lot and have a bright future ahead of you. Someone like you is destined for greatness. Fuck all the phonies. Fuck the school. You got this shit - my gangley green bean.

our secret place - sjb

Last night under the illumination of the moon I heard the beat of one thousand ancestors,
calling me from beyond the mundane normalises of this life,
they swayed to the beat.

Arms flowing through the summer air, feet drumming through the sand,
to the depths of the earth.

Beyond,
the brilliance of the mirrored lake.

This is freedom.

Bum de da da dum took over my body and I obeyed the sound of fifty drums pounding the same rhythm.

There are no rules here.
One community.
One sound.
One movement.

A silent understanding of humanity's need for peace,
a safe space.

You are all welcome here....

Like a flame from the fire my body flickers between the present and the place we long to be,
Complete oneness with all that surrounds me.

Bum de da da dum
harder and harder my limbs are ordered to sway,
their is no other way.

There is no more I,
no life,no death, no here, no there, no coming, no going.
I can't resist the sound of the knowing.

The rhythm of one hundred hands help me make love to the moon, the stars, the earth, the water.....

and somewhere her lips, blushing, wait.

When my body realizes its limitations I go to her.

The stars fall out of her mouth as she descends upon me.
Showering me in a million pieces of silver light.
I surrender to her as we find our place.
You will never find us here.

Our secret place,
amongst the stars.

dear online dating site

Hey I just had a few concerns:

- male/female, i think that there should be a 'neither' option and 'trans' option available since you cater to the queer community, right?

- Caucasian refers to features, so for example, northern africans and west asians and south asians could be Caucasian... it's confusing for a "non-traditional", "caucasian" like myself :)

- Ethnicity, you're missing South Asian. Also, if by 'Indian' you're referring to Native (or Aboriginal) then those would be better terms to use. if you're referring to Indians from India... then it's South Asians.

Thanks
_______________________________________________

2 weeks later

Hi Tila,

Thanks for the reply, but I just checked my page again and you guys haven't done anything to fix the whole Indian/South Asian/Aboriginal thing... or the Male/Female/Neither/Trans option.

Just wondering if you're going to address this.

Thanks

Nanyorai

I met with Marie, Lehkoko, Johnathan and Leah today. I have passed the test and I am now a Masai. My new Masai name is Nanyorai. Marie named me. It means Loved.

My plane back to Nairobi leaves in 2 hours. What a world I am leaving.

Ps - I have the silliest tan lines on my legs. K, you're right, I should have taken off my shorts!

i landed

I left Kristelle's hair band on the flight to Zurich. Sorry k!

I saw the top of a cluster of mountains flying into Switzerland. I was in awe, but I mostly thought of my friends. AC would have pulled out her sketch book, CP would have drooled on the window and giggled like a little kid, SJ would have smiled that breath-taking smile and cried at it's massive beauty, JB would have gone off into a poetic tangent of alliterations and freestylings... I just let my heart race and smiled to myself at *that* feeling... i think it was humility.

Don't be jealous, but I just discovered where the Care Bears live. The clouds on the way into Nairobi were thicker and juicier than anything i had ever seen. I'm positive that they could have supported my weight and that, if you looked real close, there were little tiny homes and parks tucked away behind the gigantic cotton balls. Mind you, I didn't actually see the Care Bears (I think they hide when planes come around, I can only imagine how loud and disruptive we can be) but I was sure that those clouds were made for special little hero's.

Then we forgot all of the Swiss chocolate on the plane...

Tomorrow night I'm camping out in the Masai Mara park for a couple of nights.

Night

SJB's 3/5

Principled: Travis and I were in detention in grade 7 because, when Mlle. Bialowas went to the bathroom, I convinced him to get up on the desk with me and sing “hey Mickey you’re so fine...” for no real reason. Our entire French class got up and did it too. It was especially fun because all of the class rooms at Don Valley JHS were in such close proximity that I could see Mr. Brown’s English students laughing and clapping along with us. I could see the sweat on Mr. Brown’s brow; he was livid, furiously battling his inner demons with the Nanji rep. He kicked me out of his English class on my first day of school for no reason... he looked at me and said “another Nanji eh... get out”. Sweet! So I was in my principal’s office doing time. She wanted me to write out what I did and beg for atonement. I handed her my paper – written in purple crayola crayon – and she said “your spelling is terrible, here’s a good trick to remember: a principle’s a principle, but a principal is your pal.”

Thanks princiPAL Chaimbers

Loyalty: That night was the first time someone defended my honour. While violent and jolting, the love and dedication that came with it made me feel safe. Thinking about the people we defend and support puts a smile on my face. Loyalty isn't a trade off. It's something intrinsically woven into your construction. It's an innate belief that can't be jeopardized. It's knowing when to say yes or no. It's knowing when to say sorry without feeling defeated.

Humility: Knowing how little you are in comparison.

Ju Betty

I copy/paste long emails into a Word document, and then reformat it for my viewing pleasure. I restructure the document to make it visually pleasing to my eye. A very personal modification, I’d say.

I like letters, especially in form of an email. There is that element of instant gratification, immediacy, that I’ve always appreciated in life. I can respond, with time and space compressed, and with my thoughts as raw and pure as ever. Tainted and unedited, or clever and filtered.

I like letters. Thank you Ju Betty.

i think i'm afraid of love...

"i think you're afraid of love, i think that's why you push us all away, cuz we're getting too close to your heart and we could break it" - rtizt canne

Love is a routine

I almost always perform without any shoes on. I find it to be authentic and it makes me feel at home with my instrument. Today I fell in love with my warm-up ritual, the same ritual I’ve had for years: my first step is to start off with an improvised jam session of off-notes and funk beats. When I tire myself out, I start tuning each drum. Eventually I kick off my shoes (or, if it’s summer time, put on my socks), take off my shirt, put on my headphones and melt into musical bliss.

Routines are comforting. I find that we all take comfort in life’s redundant rudiments. They keep us grounded. They keep us feeling important and productive. And we dismiss them in a protest to be ‘spontaneous’ and ‘unpredictable’ and ‘fun-loving’ without realizing that redundancy isn’t monotonous, it’s affirmative.

Love is a routine, and is almost always predictable. So predictable, in fact, because it’s self-induced. Our precedent experiences carve our understanding of love and relationships. They determine our trust, respect, loyalty and integrity. Our actions and our reactions pave our truths and our authenticity.

While working so hard to fight our self-inflicted trends, we succumb to our tendencies. Again and again and again.

Love is a routine.