treasure: the suburbs

In the suburbs I
I learned to drive
And you told me we'd never survive
Grab your mother's keys we're leavin'

You always seemed so sure
That one day we'd be fighting
In a suburban war
Your part of town against mine
I saw you standing on the opposite shore

But by the time the first bombs fell
We were already bored
We were already, already bored

Sometimes I can't believe it
I'm movin' past the feeling
Sometimes I can't believe it
I'm movin' past the feeling again

Kids wanna be so hard
But in my dreams we're still screamin' and runnin' through the yard
And all of the walls that they built in the seventies finally fall
And all of the houses they built in the seventies finally fall
Meant nothin' at all
Meant nothin' at all
It meant nothin

Sometimes I can't believe it
I'm movin' past the feeling
Sometimes I can't believe it
I'm movin' past the feeling and into the night

So can you understand?
Why I want a daughter while I'm still young
I wanna hold her hand
And show her some beauty
Before all this damage is done

But if it's too much to ask, it's too much to ask
Then send me a son

Under the overpass
In the parking lot we're still waiting
It's already past
So move your feet from hot pavement and into the grass
Cause it's already past
It's already, already past

Sometimes I can't believe it
I'm movin' past the feeling
Sometimes I can't believe it
I'm movin' past the feeling again

I'm movin' past the feeling
I'm movin' past the feeling

In my dreams we're still screamin'
We're still screamin'
We're still screamin'

the suburbs (covered by mr little jeans) , arcade fire

treasure:old stuff: rediscovered.

from july 8, 2009

at least she knows one thing for certain. as she turned down the wrong street in vancouver and had to make her way past a block and a half of dusty greyed street people, she feared for her own safety. at least she has that, for she had feared (another fear) that she was suicidal. not in possession of the will to live, or the care to. she at least has this.

but maybe it is not suicide which appeals so much as disappearing from the world. no boxes to tick, no weight to carry, no plans to make. perhaps suicide is the wrong approach. perhaps an invisibility cloak would do. but to exist (the opposite of non-existence) one inevitably requires money, things, a roof and a bed, and so on. thus things must be done. which brings her/us to the original desire to disappear. what is the answer? more wine? more wine! more wine.


10th august, 2009
it occurs to me
i could just stay here
i could fall in love with
someone who wants me in whistler
someone who offers no boundaries; restrictions a laughable concept.
it just now occurs to me
that feeling stifled
is not on my prerequisites list.
but i might be drunken on eye-contact.
if i love
the things you love, will you love me?

it occurs to me
that i am already unfaithful
i am in love with pitchers of beer and mountains
i think longingly of them, when
i should think of you.


oct 15, 2009
your pockets are filled to the brim with things you have collected absentmindedly while creating order from chaos
you find in there several small treasures and a letter written to a friend, too long ago now to send, but you are slow to discard it
there are, of course, the broken bits, the pieces of treasure that are not what they once were, are a shadow of their former self in fact
your pockets are just too damned full for their own good, and you are struggling with indecision in the face of despair
and you stop a minute and wonder what others, or one particular other, will think of they catch you trying to empty out these silly messy pockets
you need to empty these pockets quietly
on the sly, in order to see what has acutally been in there all this time,
and what it is you are going to have to throw away.


a love song i wrote: one of the only ones i ever finished and still like

place your arm
round my shoulders
be yourself
and then be bolder
i am a step away from you
and i will not repeat myself, that'll do
-you laugh until you feel confused
-you smile until you look amused

stick to scripts
say the words you know
don't forget
take a breath, breathe slow
i am a step away from you
and i will not repeat myself, this will do
-nothing big, just a tangle of legs and arms
-none of any of us will come to any harm

someday soon,
we will surely speak
i can wait a year
but i can't wait a week
now i'm just a step away from you
no words left to repeat, nothing else to do

treasure: blind pilot, new favourite

Blind Pilot- Three rounds and a Sound



They're playing our song
They're playing our song
Can you see the lights?
Can you hear the hum?

Of our song
I hope they get it right
I hope we dance tonight
Before we, get it wrong

And the seasons
Will change us new
Be the best I've knownand you know me
I could not be stuck on you
If it were true

I was sleeping
My eyes were dark
Til you woke me
And told me that opening is just the start
it was

Now I see you, til kingdom come
You're the one I want
To see me for all the stupid shit I've done

Soil and six feet under
Killed just like we were
Before you knew you'd know me
And you know me
Blooming up from the ground
3 Rounds and a sound
Like whispering you know me
And you know me

So this was our song
This was our song
I still see the lights
I can see them

And the criss cross
Of what is true, won't get to us
Cause you know me
I could not give up on you

And the fog of what is right
Won't cover us cause you know me
I could not give up a fight

secret: i am so emo right now

nobody loves me everybody hates me i'm going to go and eat some worms

big fat juicy ones long slim slimy ones

itsy bitsy fuzzy wuzzy worms

first you bite their heads off then you suck their gizzards out

see how they squiggle and squirm

nobody loves me everybody hates me i'm going to go and eat some worms