I've never fasted, ever. My body is weak and tingling, and shaking. It is the end of the day.

I'm going to try sit ups.

Wow. 50 sit ups, by 40 i took a quick pause then was like, naw, break even.
Then 50 crunches, and by 30, I counted backwards. Holy, I am just realizing, I did maybe 60-70 crunches. I lost count and didn't count for a bit, so then out of doubt I just made sure it was extra, but it was already extra after 50.

My hands are shaky. But that makes me type quick I do believe. Because, I guess, more blood is flowing through them now so I may guide this energy.

Tomorrow is going to be a glorious breakfast. For now, I go to bed, and give it rest.

Much love

itinerary.

8:30, wake up - boil water, brush / wash, coffee. Berry & RiceMilk blend.

Drink a tall glass of water

100 sit ups + 1 for the King +1 for the queen +1 for me.

10:30 probably recording myself reading in french. Or typing out notes from two semesters passed. Netflix plays in the background. In between notes or chapters, get up and read. Or do some yoga flows.

Whatever I do next, it's 4:30 and I have an early supper. I haven't gone outside all day. Makes me feel .. like the door is closing and I'm pretty much late and have wasted the sunshine. Continue doing the inside-tasks. Today was painting.

Painting was highly satisfactory - I like that shit. I go out and mail a card and a package - it's sunset.

I finally get to walking today by 7:30. Talking by 8:30. Chill, eat, talk. Talk. (really nice).

Walk home, 12:30. See Sean (really nice). Re-continue to walk home, 1am. 2:oclock/now.

I will have 2nd glass of water for this sit, then my eyes will rest. I wonder why I am up late, seems pointless. I wonder if this night will be remembered later on, or if when I re-read this post in the future, will it have seemed to have slipped out of my mind. I think it was important.

Today, I accomplished, even when it was so bored, and I wanted to buy a beer.. maybe rum? I did not, and I feel really good inside for this. It is my second day of not drinking. I like it.
(correction: 2nd day of not spending money on drinks [all the same I'ven't dranken anything, it's just about the money])

swt-gdnght

There are just some girls that I would like to eat out forever. To give and give and give to, fr'ever.

Finish two, pick another up. Finish two, pick another up.

I got woken up twice last night from being bitten from some bugs, most certainly they are bugs, having a varied cascading effects of miniature mountain ranges over my body.

I have finished recording me reading "Why Our Decisions Don't Matter" and now it's only to figure out how to make an event out of it.

I have done all that I can do about OSAP today, maybe more may be done later on. My printer is now ever more so low on ink.

T'was suppose to go out for lunch with a friend, no reply, equals Kim puts to use the leftovers found in the fridge.

I am torn between buying soymilk, and having more coffee today, or saving money and waiting tomorrow. Of course I'd take the opportunity to buy some wine and liquor.

I feel loads better after having completed OSAP and that book reading. Hell, the painting I even got ot yesterday is looking loads better too. Maybe a reward.. Wine? Heheh.

I even did laundry, I hope I will have no bugs tonight. I'll shower again just in case. Maybe they're in my hair..

I'm going to record me reading "Vivre Jusqu'au Bout"... because I want to read aloud en Francais.

Making food for others can be quite simple and rewarding. Once the confidence is there, wooh hoo! Just have dinner with folks that you like and are easy going. But that's for me at least, because although I know that I have been and can be quite picky at times.. I don't want to cook for a selective person, well.. only if I don't really care much for their opinions or interest. So there, I would be having dinner with the wrong person. But the folks as of late have been quiet and kind. But not really quiet. It's just.. yea.. I think they've been cool blokes, after all.. I don't mind them.

I've never stopped and taken a looks-back away from the computer screen and wondered.. "what am I writing?" I guess this is what .. authors.. or something.. others.. think about when they're writing. Super critical. Or not super critical.. just.. yeah. It's happening again. PAIX!

What state is this I am in?

I'm a girl driven by fantasy. My heart flutters quicker than I am able to read, maybe this is why I find fictional books of romance too uninteresting, unsatisfying. They give way to few fleeting moments of rush, but if you are to meet someone a new, seconds are stretched into days.. and there is a fear of their ceasing-to-be. All I tend to think about in those marathonic stretches is how I should carry myself. How do I want them to remember me by? I could cry, gravel, and shout, and resist.. yet.. there's no justification for me to enact such. Their image of me took precedence over my desire to manifest my internal fantasies. I'm not crazy, but then again, I am. I am crazy. At moments, feelings may rush over me, like tides over a drowning body. A complete submersion into an environment so out of your control, yet you jumped in. Conversely, others may swim in similar conditions, others might not even construct fantasies in their heads... but that doesn't mean that I shouldn't.


There's a lot of inactivity here now, it's a bit boring. I've been keeping myself 'active' by writing, and recording me reading aloud, and filling out forms. There's a lot of.. word things I've been doing. But also cooking. I like the cooking. I'm looking for intimacy right now, I just had an eye exam, and the doctors always get so close to you.. hmm, felt a bit strange. The last time someone was that facially close to me.. well..

I'm at a point where I don't want to follow things through to the end. My self direction is a bit at a lost right now.. or not lost, just at a way slower pace than before. I was recollecting earlier today how often times during July, I would forget appointments I had scheduled around me. It was because there was so much activity in my environment, a constant communication of information, that I had tried to keep up, and in doing so, forgot to pick some other things up too.

I've played the guitar a bit, not much, but it .. I let it say something about me. 

I've started up my camera again - Jake's going to be moving to Cape Breton - so I took pictures of him.

I got my glasses fixed at Hakim Optical today.. I love that feeling.

My butt hurts because I've been sitting far too long.

If I have more time I move slower. Or at least this is how I perceive myself within these moments.

Good Morning Winnipeg's Sun.

I just wrote 40 pages recollecting my last two weeks with a guy from Winnipeg, Manitoba. I started at 1015 AM this morning and it's 10 PM the same night. Of course, there had been the moment when I was cooking, and the moment when I was showering, complete with the pauses in between.. where my pinky was cramping, and I just needed to soak it in what I had just rethought of. And also search through my memory, see which one was which. It was first going as a letter to Olivia, and it still is, that first bit.. I'll just recopy it out or something. But then I just recorded all that was special to me from that time spent there. In the prairie fields.

I said to someone today, via text, that I was going to write a poem about it. It.. "it", I do not recall. Oh I know it. I left my water bottle in Fredericton. And I told Shaun that I would write a song about it.

Virtute the Cat explians her departure.

It had something to do with the pain.
---
And the way I left, so quick.. going.
For a while I , hated you, missing you.
I really didn't.
--
I was left waiting to see what had become of me.
Full of wine gusted and blown lines.
Where no voices ever were born.
You left me her ein this town, forlorne
To return, I knew what I'd had to do and say.
To never talk again to you, we gotta wait, for a year.
you made the choice, to end it. Althought, I am quite you know.
I made the decision, to fuck him.
So blow your self from now often.
Let me, do whomever the fuck I wantt,
How i would hate the taste, of your dick. Your sock was mouldy.

Your sock was mouldly, it smelt my snake's cage.
It was so fucking mould.y
But, I mean, we can continue on now without the other,
I always wanted to just go about and frolick.
Without stinky dicks.

But, now I'm left wondering, why the fuck did I have to leave soooo, soon.
Of course don't think this is about you,
I left my water bottle .

in the central compartments.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~**~*~
...shure

I'm not even going to edit that song.