Ye Olde Archive Archived Posts: 2004-2009


Home again and aching

My skin feels red,
slightly boiled from the inside;
joints ache like ungreased pistons.
My head’s a thousand miles away.
pauvre petite tête

It’s good to be home again again again,
though my thoughts echo and words stick,
like a taste on the palette that won’t let go.
Words like independence, like fortitude
and awareness, understanding and compassion.

I’ve an admission to make: I never cried.
Not with you watching, not alone when I said,
“I need to walk.”, neither before when I knew,
nor after when it was irrevocable.
My heart had been burdened by months of despair,
in the knowledge that this was the last time
we’d go through this; irreconcilable,
this time the outcome would be different.
We dragged it out well; both fighters, I guess.
At some point during those months, my heart
broke quietly, hidden in a corner, my stomach
convulsed and I curled up, shivering with the knowledge
that the universe was indifferent.

But I never cried, and if I seemed
to leave without a fight, it was because
how can I fight for something I can’t even cry over losing?

It’s neither here nor there,
perhaps a little of both.
Something I have to figure out before I move on?
Too many questions, like a magnet in my brain,
always pointing due wherever.

I watched Dogville last night with my mom.
It wasn’t what I was expecting, but begs the question:
how much can we forgive someone for acting out of fear?

No matter how cruel the town was to her,
the only time she cried was when they destroyed
the image she had of the goodness of the town;
seven, small porcelain figurines.

Filed under: cinema, love, personal 1 Comment

Kissed a girl and made her cry…

Monday night, I left a beautiful girl crying.

“I’ve been thinking about Montreal. If I end up going, I have to go alone. I need to leave my attachments and start fresh, to see who I am.”

I wasn’t sure how serious she had been about going with me; nor how serious she was about our relationship in general. Turns out she was quite serious about both. It made me realize that while I’ve become pretty good at protecting myself from getting hurt in these situations, I need to start paying more attention to how much I can hurt the other person. On the other hand, I’m sure this was the right decision; and in the end, perhaps the least painful one.

I high-tailed it up to Port Townsend to spend Thanksgiving with my mom and my step-dad. It’s good to get away from Oly for a few days, take a break and maybe get some reading done.

For grad school, I’ve decided to apply to five (or so) institutions in various places I think I’d like to live, away from everything I know. That way, if I don’t get accepted to Montreal, I will still be able to get away and explore; have an adventure of learning and self-discovery. [that sounds so trite] I’m bound to get accepted somewhere.

To everyone who reads this [and everyone else too]:
Happy Thanksgiving.

Focus on the good things in life…

…like pie.

Filed under: love, montreal, personal 2 Comments

Revenge of the flying cheesimo

Okay, so NaNoWriMo didn’t work out so well for me. Which is to say, I didn’t do it. That’s okay, I’m not heartbroken. After all, fifty thousand words is a lot, and I’m more of the kind of guy who says, “Why use fifty thousand words where five hundred will do?”. Which has led me to a new project. Microfiction is a wonderful thing, much like blogging: you sit, you write, you’re done (and sitting’s optional). It doesn’t drag on for days, you don’t lose sleep over it, and your friends will actually read it when you’re done. They say a picture’s worth a thousand words? Well, rip that picture in half, ’cause it’s micro time! As the link indicates, other things will be involved, such as literary reviews and news items, creative works and explorations. If you’re at all interested in being involved, please feel free to email me.

P.S. Monkeys are good people. That’s all for now.

Filed under: poetic No Comments

Welcome to Brief Lies

Welcome to Brie Flies, home of flying chee-
Oops, let me start over.

Welcome to Brief Lies (that’s better), home of flying chee-
Oops again! Okay, bugger the welcome, then.
You’re here, great. Let’s move on, shall we?

This is a blog started by me as a space to be creative, to encourage creativity, and hopefully to collaborate with others in some creative works. When I say “creative”, for now I mean writing, but who knows what may happen in the future. Mostly, I’m interested in using this blog as something of a microfiction forum. Years ago, I started a microfiction email group. It was a small but fun group, and good practice. Every week, people would write a piece of microfiction (500 words or less), centered around a specific theme or topic. At the end of the week, I would send all the stories out, along with the topic for the next week. The stories were always a lot of fun to write (and low-stress, under 500 words!) and even more fun to read. Unfortunately, people get busy and writing falls by the wayside; our small group dwindled and story submissions were low. Eventually, I called the micro-group quits and moved on to other things, though not without some remorse.

Lately, I’ve been blogging quite a bit, because writing daily just feels good, and today I remembered vividly how much fun the microfiction group was. So I’ve decided to start something similar, here on this blog. It may take awhile to get the ball rolling, but until then I’ll be posting some of my own creative work (as well as whatever I can finagle out of friends and family), links of creative interest, news and other noteworthy reads.

If you’re interested in submitting anything, joining the microfiction group, posting on this blog (and/or helping me to run it) or just in contacting me, please feel free to drop me an email at brieflies(at)gmail(dot)com.

Filed under: poetic No Comments

When a straight beats a flush

I came across this interesting link, somewhat circuitously today. It involves the Pacific Northwest, and this particular story is about Neah Bay and the Makah Tribe. My step-dad is Makah, and very active in Makah traditional and cultural life. He particularly does a lot of really beautiful copper-work, cut and painted to represent traditional and familial spirit and animal figures. The Makah are most known, recently, for the controversy revolving around their whaling, particularly their recent hunt in 1999. There are some beautiful pictures of Pacific coastline and local rainforest worth checking out. Washington State is chock-full of natural beauty. Go us.

Of other note, geographically, is this short article from The Boston Globe on Montreal, with focus on their pop music scene and its success in the U.S. (Whether that’s a recommendation or not, I don’t know — I’m not particularly fond of “popular” American music.) But it’s a neat, short blurb that ends in saying, “Montreal is an artist’s town.” Go them. (Still, the thought of being surrounded by three million people is a bit daunting to a country-grown boy like myself.) For further stories of Montreal interest…

The phone rang yesterday, and I, crotchety hermit that I am, let it ring through because I didn’t recognize the caller id number (that and I’m a lazy bastard; we really don’t get that many “courtesy calls” these days). It turned out to be the Public Library downtown, calling me about a “Library Aide” position for 15 hours a week. I’ve got to call them back when I get off work today, but this surely means an interview at least (because they send letters if they reject you; I’ve been collecting them), and hopefully a job of some sort for low pay and lost evenings. But hey! I can stop living off my damned credit card! Go me.

Time is short. Looking at the moment; it passes.
A quote to encourage ye, adventurers.

Make your choice, adventurous Stranger;
Strike the bell, and bide the danger,
Or wonder, till it drives you mad,
What would have followed if you had.

The Magician’s Nephew, C.S. Lewis

Filed under: art, montreal, music, work No Comments