Pigeon Troubles

I went out to do laundry today, it was a very pack four bags on my bike. However many wash cycles that turned out to be, paired with equal and then-some drying times. It took about four hours till it was all good and complete.

On my way out to the spot, I saw a pigeon that was chilling on the ground by my apartment, out in back. I coo'ed to it, I wanted to know what was up. It's wing was hanging a bit limp, so I let it be for the time. I saw it again as I returned in its same spot. The same spot for four hours. It seems a bit frightful - I had things to do, laundry, a book to read, a word search puzzle to accomplish, and in this equal time it stayed in its same place, grounded, in a dark corner, in the back of my building.

I went to see if I could spot any clues as to why this bird became grounded, I saw some egg shells cracked near to where I put I bike. But not knowing the size of pigeon eggs, these could have been regular chicken egg shells to my unknowing.

I tried to coax it out, hoping it would talk to me, but knowing I wouldn't do anything. How do I show care? I ended up freaking it out, so it started on foot, and tried to fly a bit, to its own dismay and discomfort. It had a hard time tucking its wing back into itself.

It would go closely to the road, on it, near the middle yellow line, then back again. My heart would string and pause as its tiny meddling steps dared bring it where its hopes desired. Another pigeon flew from my roof to settle on the sidewalk, intrigued by this pigeon I suppose.

A relief, I thought, the bird would have another bird friend now. I noticed how when the second pigeon drew close to the first, she would not flea or fret too much. I know now that the first pigeon was female, and the second male. Maybe they were companions from the start, for later, after I had finished reading my school book, and going out to buy a pack of cigarettes, I saw that both of them were chilling by the initial door to my apartment.

It was so honest, innocent and cute as to how they both looked up to me and thought, shit, we're caught, and what do we do now, please, do nothing. But I had to go by them. The female tried to fly away, but instead, flapped unevenly until she landed to the pavement beside my stairs. While the male, slowly made his way, hopping down the stairs.

My disturbance onto their momentary peace, lead them to attempt to find a place of solace once more. I crossed the street as quick as I could, to hopefully show them they needn't run off any more. But instead, they crossed the road too. A car was making its way, and I slowed in my steps to a complete stop, and questioned if I should watch what comes next.

My eyes starred dead as these both inherently birds of flight, attempt to cross a road by foot, painstakingly to my dis-ease, without any sense of urgency as to the nature of roads. I have seen many two dimensional and dehydrated pigeons here on Halifax roads, and wondered if I was about to see how these treacherous traces were caused.

The car didn't slow down, not one bit. And instead, beyond the hairs of my brows did I witness as the female pigeon, the initial pigeon's tail become stuck by under the car's wheels as it simultaneously tried to fly away, pulling out its tail and down feathers behind them. A slight breeze caught up these feathers, as a visual reminders to the structure of nature and its structured inhabitants.

I dare not look further. I continued to make my way to the nearby corner store to complete my initial goal. Coming out, I stayed and watched these pigeons make their commutes while I smoked my first smoke. They made two more road crossings during the time, and dodged a single music-listening man's feet of indifference, and also the many centipedular steps of a group of evening joggers.

They continued walking towards the commons, and while I would have enough curiousity in my veins to watch them throughout their near future life's encounters, my heart daren't, and neither my lungs sustain it, and neither would my academic pangs attend to it.

I went in, and came in, and when they do die, I do hope I am not there to witness it.

Best of luck in all your crossings,

Kim.

K.

The great return.

I have said to myself time and time again that I would not write my words online for the.... inconceivable public to see - but I should shut up, because this is happening...

The last post, the video, I find it to be hilarious. I actually love it.

In essence, we do miss the good things in life, but they needn't happen in vein, maybe. It's hard to let go of false happiness, and hope. Hope is a strong nectar.

I don't want to go into detail - there is and isn't a need to.
...Elsewhere.

I, honest to God - and you know what - it's a bit hard, because I have no immediately as well into it astrology friends - but seriously - you know when Freud is like, "You see how people choose the same type of person for a relationship over and over again? Well - who/what is the only consistent thing? It is you!"

- Yep.

I'm not in a formal relationship right now - but fuck - I have found the... odd similar person - like, astrologically strange similar person.

This is why I need astrology and psychoanalysis friends! This shit is fucking insane!

It all is insane really - which is really soothing in way.

I'm actually... physically calm right now. There were two days that I didn't bite my nails, but just some few moments ago, I have devoured them. Also - I think I may, I think I may, get another pack of smokes. I don't know yet.

I don't know yet if I'm not smoking because of other people, or because of me. I mean I know I hope and wish for myself to have a good life - but maybe I also want to smoke. My dream last night involved a really.. disheartening experience, one in which I was trying to resolve it as if it happened in 'real' life, for one hour after I awoke. I had to keep on reality checking myself, "Kim, it does not matter! This did not even happen! There's nothing you can do for the past - ITS IN THE PAST!" aka, mother fucking inexistent. Seriously. What if I was hung up on how someone (hypothetically, but prob not) hurt my maternal grandma's feelings while she was working in the rice fields - the fuck would it matter! Of course it happens, feelings are real, sensitives are sensing, and so c'est la vie! Shit happens! The joy of food both is rich and luxourious and special, but it is also simoultaneously inasmuchas it will always be - SHIT! All this food we buy and eat, is just shit. All this life we live and hope for - is full of shit! And despair at times too.

It's a little bit beautiful if it's seen in the right way.

Of course, this is coming from someone who's scared of having a shitty life.

I can't control people - so it's easier to not really hang out around them that often.

A lot of things bug me about folks' uniquenesses. All individuality is alright and whatever - but some things about people bug the fuck out of me - and I can't handle it. I don't want it, I don't want to be around it. It's like allergies. I mean - I am in no way shape or form allergic to the air, but at times... due to seasonal changes, and differences of air-make-up, and differences on how I've been personally treating my nose - at times I have such strong allergic reactions due to my nose sensing the air. Same with people - some times, circumstantially, and situationally, I am totally tolerant (tolerant?) to people, or, it's like water on the duck's back - which is great - this is fine.  But other times - My eyebrows raise and my spirit is feeling feisty and justified and not digging anything any piece of lovely humanity-filled shit is saying to me. Of course, I'm not out of my own trajectory - I fuck up too. yeah, great, gotchya, good. But seriously. sometimes, I want to implode.

Heh, I imagine it. It's quite nice. It's like - no, I am not asking for sympathy, but when it's forced onto me, I dunno how else to say it, like someone force feeding me potatoes - it's like - fuck no. Fuck no!

Shit, Christ, .. FUCK NO!

Anyways.

I feel kinda alright.

On a better note - I'm really happy I found that song - it's hilarious.
I'm also stoked that tomorrow I will aim to have no plans with no one and will finish another kick ass painting, hopefully kick ass - so yeah.

Also- I wake up without an alarm.

I've spent no money today or yesterday.

And a friend has been kind to help me out with buying beers one night and such, lol.

But also, it's nice to know that you're still on people's mind. Inasmuchas it is fucking angry-fying, because space is key when space is key, y'know. But it's nice, but also, more importantly right now - they should never start talking again - honestly, shut up. Shut the fuck up.

Strangers, of the world - Don't bother. But if you have some smokes you want to mail to me - this could dreamily potentially be arranged.

God bless.

Always

Seriously.

Tuesday fillings

Okay - feeling jittery - and kind of wanting to.

I made blueberry Jam.

I've got my bike box and got the pedals taken off of my bike.
It's like, the days when I say to myself, alright, I'll do this and this and this today - and then it's today, and then, you gotta/know you will go and do it.

Oh geeze fuck it's so - illuminating.

I bought a harmonica today.

I will finish my writing assignments today - oh yes. Oh yes I will.

Hopefully in the next three or four hours, so then I can bike down to the bus terminal (lol, on my OLDIE LANCER) and then buy my bus ticket. I don't want to buy it online - it doesn't look too guarded.

I may have to buy more blueberries.. and lemons. I want to make Curtis a pie. But I don't want to make it if he's not around, you know, keep it fresh.

Anyways, we'll see.

Do I feel settled? hmm..

Invigorated?

Fuck.

Knowing the time's coming.

My mom and dad have such eyes for each other and their kids, it's interesting. When my mom was down with me at my aunt's place in Calgary last summer, my dad was all like, 'tell her to call' and such. You know. Keeping in connection and ties.

I wonder.

What is the purest expression of love?

Fleeting Emotions, Remember That.

Who's to say you'll feel differently from when you wake up, to take a shower, to brew your morning's cup of coffee.

Something settling in routines; I want a good routine.

I sort of have one, but it does need to be worked on a bit. Always some fine tinkering; but that keeps it ever-evolving.

I always felt estranged from the sister-sister relationships, even the brother ones - because I was the sister. But it's interesting on how interesting it is on trying to find a place wherein one fits, within their family and to the outer public world.

Maybe I will have five children, so that it is still an odd number (why?) and potentially there will be two of 'each' gender. Am I supporting some argument I've been trying to not support...

I've met people who are only children to their parent(s). If they are raised from a single parent, I don't think I have ever seen them as "incomplete" or missing one contributor. My elementary best friend was raised by her Mom and she was a single mother and everything - gosh I love it. I have such respect for these women who raise their children, or these Dads that raise their children, without the '(in)significant' other. It's such spirit, and drive, and oh-my-god-this-is-fucking-insane-but-I-am-living-and-doing-it-and-these-kids-are-living-and-we-are-doing-it followed with a good hey-we're quite alright aren't we.

'Anyone' can reproduce, especially if they're idiots. Having a "fuck-it!" attitude can be right in the appropriate spaces, in a space where an empty yet do-ing mind may be both focused and not focused so that at a task may be achieved.. but if it's just not the most wisely considered space, then .. would'a should'a could'a.

As much as I do would want to make a political statement by keeping a child if I were to get pregnant, in an 'inappropriate' space/time, I would also really want to consider aborting it.

The other day I had some cramps and become mentally and psychologically anxious on the (dis)reality of being pregnant and about to deliver, and it's a fucking commitment. You can never hold anything in indefinitely- nothing at all! It always comes out, and it's just gunna fucking happen.

The fear of getting pregnant for the anxiety on the bodily commitment.

I am not prego.

I had a nice relationship talk with my mother yesterday. It was - scarily relieving. They always are - and whenever I call her, I call her in wanting to hear from her "leave him." And so - I got just that again, for the nth time.

The thing is - I have a gut, and love is scary, and I know from my past relations in loving other people, it was mostly me loving them - that being said - I have an endless internal fuel and energy on loving someone (sometimes). Sometimes it is for a long time, and sometimes it's quickly in and out, you know. Well you don't. But I am in the same thing, right now. And it doesn't matter how much I am attracted to him, and attracted to the idea of him being the one who gives me a child/children and a potential marriage partner and what not - a partnership! How exciting. But totally untrue.

Anyways - I just let my mental/emotional troubles on this loving relation into the ears of Mama. And with this came many things. 1) Let the past be the past. Trust. 2) It's okay to love someone more than they love you, just as long as they respect that. Aka, not abusing it. 3) In this particular relation, it is not respectful to my love for him if he flirts with other girls, and kisses them. Mm. Foundational.

All of these things Ma was able to understand and give pardon to.
I realize now, him and I were just hooking up with each other, but I was reading it wrong, and there wasn't any respect in it all, honestly. Just want in what the other person provided. And doing the quota on maintaining it.

But all of these things above, my Ma found space in herself to hear my love for him, and say - oh yeah Kim, be firm, don't cry, just say it for it is how it is and how it will be if it is going to be.

But the last thing - I forget how I brought it up after she had said all these things to pardon was, "Ma, he sleeps in til 1pm most days. Wants to have many things, but doesn't want to work for them, will show up late for his job just to prove his point, and complains about working." Mom was repulsed and torn.

-"How old is he?"
-"27 this year."
-"TWENTY-SEVEN!? Kim, no, drop him, and leave him."
I am just loosing it with laughter, this is it, this is the straw on the camels back.
-"27 and he doesn't want to work. Why do you want a future with this man? No Kim, no. Leave now. Leave now, because it is easier to divorce him now than later. Kim, trust me, if you live with him and marry him, your life will be very difficult."

I felt and heard those words, because they answered a very real reality in my head, that no amount of fantasizing could glimmer over. I have the capacity to love, but you know, it's a process, trying to see fantasy from reality from potentiality from strong probability.

And the thing is, this is a character trait. He has kissed girls during the beginning of his 'relationships' and he has always felt this desire to 'prove a point' by sleeping in.

The sleeping in bugs me.
The desire to kiss others and flirt with others bugs me.
But the notice to the future is so relieving. I told him he'd have to move in with me if we were gunna be together, cuz I didn't know how to build a relationship with him (and that would solve problems?!); but when I woke up the next day - I was like - shit. Do I want this?

Sentences go through my head: Do you want me, or are you afraid of losing me? I am afraid of losing you. What are you doing to try and keep me here? Why would I want to stay here? Why would I want you?

Know your battles, and know when to prove to someone that you can love them til death do you part, but don't waste it on someone who doesn't deserve it - jeeze.

And that's why to never prevent your feelings of liking someone to leave them. That's when ones own emotions and mental fantasies and delusions will make them a martyr.

Where do all of these concepts come from, eh? Like, generations and generations of wisdom and experiences from all our human and non-human friends.

Cool.

Well - see you!

Have fun. : )

Slowly

I've become more self-conscious about typing on here. Where, this is a public domain - and not as intimate as I would have thought. But - still - I like it.

Some hidden gem somewhere - in fact - there are many of us lying about.

I've recently enjoyed reading my past posts - they keep me in tact with past moments of feelings and what not. Mainly, I've read the first two-ish let's say I've written on my first encounters with Shaun bud. He's great - and real! Not to say the others were fake - I do not mean to set up this if it's not black, then it must be white - logical dichotomy. My intention is to underline, emphasize, and highlight with a bold ass fuckin marker - that he's real. In an emotional way - in a human way - an idiotic way - all ways. Most ways. A burden and an ease. He's just a guy - and so far we haven't derailed or anything - so I'm gunna take some moments here on congratulating this - it's awesome. Never let the good moments become forgetting in the haze of negativity.

Of course - ask me to write this out last night, and it'd be a whole other diction. I'd probably be suffocating so much - I'd be hopeless.

There are just so many rich and vulnerable moments - that, it becomes scary, and at times too much to bear. When water sips over the sides of the boats, due to the turbulence of the waves and the very nature of you being on a boat and surrounded by them - but you do not sink. It is just that waves do enter in. Like the instance in which your foot renegotiates itself, its balance, atop of ice, in the mis'naturalistic-calculation it makes on touching the slippery sidewalk - but you don't fall - you just look weird and off kilter for a split second. It does make a good imagery, a quick dance of the silly for the onlooker - no different they are from them.

I've gotten really into astrology lately - in a desperate hope of trying to understand the multifaceted nature of Shaun's and mine's relationship. I just got learned of the Vertex, except not fully learned. More like.. 35% there. And it's fascinating. I looked at the Vertex of one of the more significant times of us first hanging out - and it's fucking unreal - a straight up conjunction. Anyways, it's just phenomenal. By means of - mere words saying "look here" and then they are there. Of course, I'm willing to believe in the occult - so they have my bias. I just wonder how it all works - truly. This attachment we have to each other - these metaphysical pseudo-scientific studies, and somehow creating a demi-realm of understanding. All I know is I want security - I don't want to sabotage my future - and I miss him, or more precisely, I want him daily.

I love reading astrology. There are so many questions I have - and it provides this formulaic breakdown on interpretation - but there are so many variances in ways in which one may interpret these readings, or symbols and so on - and it's different across continents. Fascinating shit - nothing uniform. I wonder about the history of astrology.

Sleep for now.

Maybe it was inspired by the way I was looking at you.

Walking across the Commons, you had determination in your steps, and in steps it spelt love. Whatever that meant. And investment, a willingness, a sense of compassion. Your footsteps were the reverberation of someone else's calls. Not to say that you are subservient, or willing.. but you were definitely willing. Definitely there and willing to answer. And so you did. Your tiny steps making loud pronounced call of, "I will be there, I am coming"

Not to say that this was because of a certain person, but because you have a certain aspiration within yourself that wants to be expressed. Like we all do, what with our own personalities and sense of self... you expressed yourself in your decision making.

Why do I write about it? Because I stood there watching you. Proud. So willing. Vulnerable. You were making a large butterfly effect of investments with your tiny steps. Tiny, only because your feet are small. But not tiny in their presence, in their sense of self, in their impression.

Step on, and step forward, into the reality that you desire to create... and in turn which you create.

I love you.

Be well, be safe. Know that you are sturdy and still.. flexible. A tree let's say.

A sturdy tree.

2 4 u

Release your poisons

"We have to get the toxins out to even allow the nutrients to get in...
you can't them in there if they are full of poisons
You can't get two things into one space."





Mmm. I would do this in the mornings before I would start biking; drink water.
The greatest and most memorable and general routine I carried was waking up a bit after the sun had risen. The heat of the morning would start to create a humidity in the upper bit of the tent. Sometimes.

Sometimes it would still be cold, really cold actually. And my first hurdle of the day would be realizing and acting on the fact that if I wanted to soonly as possible release the built up fluid pressure in my bladder - I would first have to pack up my tent. But before I pack up my tent, I must change out of my clothes - into the good old sweetly sweaty biking clothes - the essentials, the lean-on-me's, the original, foundational, and ever so casual, biking clothes. I would have to have my skin be exposed to the cold frigid morning air - less warm than my emergency blanket thin sleeping bag concoction of warmth. Goodbye that phase of time. But before I think of any of this - I say to myself - just fifteen more minutes. So I would lay for five, and realize there's no point in the other ten. Getting up - the stark air would shock the warm chest - dank cold sweat from the night still lingering on my bra - and I put it on. Greatly goodness - let it sink in. And somehow, I liked it. I really liked it.

Not finding a place to piss for about another forty five minutes after my mind first rose - you betchya, I can hold it in. I have been fully trained - in this method of contained expansion - it is not the bladder that bursts, but your will to control it. Heh.

*25 years later, Kim would develop a condition.

Let it so be!

I bought a chin-up bar today, and I did a few meager ones, here and there - any ways! There was some effort! Hah! It looks really silly - but it makes me look tough, lmao. To myself.

Furthermore I'm deleting my other facebook account again. I did it on Monday. I know - epic. Many things trigger it - it's just a temptation for me to act on my insecurities and on my evils. Does more harm than good I say. Uncomfortable. I tried to figure out how to hack facebook accounts - not successful - because I didn't try it fully - I didn't want to resort to plan B of actually.. trying. Who knows though if that method would work too - in  any case - so much full of shame - deleted. Gone. I do not want those thoughts in my head - so why tempt myself? Why train myself to behave in those ways and think in those ways. Toxins to the brain. A disruption of focus.

I'm fishing for other things to write - but I'll leave with this:

Explore Program, 2012
Dana and I juggling

Trying to not have vain regrets - and making that glimmer of a silver lining grow.

Black Orpheus

http://youtu.be/YWxgn7AASTg

Kim's Lament

Growing up is a full time job,

Things are more interesting with a brother and sister.

The viewable life.

Listen to this, as I just click off of Facebook. Having yet not know what hypocritical fallacies I have done.

Yes, hear me now.

As my fingers dance on this keyboard, my coughs, dry and unnecessary – I wait, until some good thought flows into my mind. The only one being, a projection onto others, how I see mself - viewing Facebook too much, too often, and using it as a justifiable tool for the inquiry of sociological judgment.

Hi, my name is Kimberly Watson. And I am judgmental. Watch as my fingertips dance across this keyboard.

I had searched up kids from elementary, now seeing their facial hair grow. Their beards, red with growth, are... echoes of insanity. Echoes of insanity... Because I am here, now still curious, still fraught with my own memory of the past. I knew them as kids, and I know not them now.

Distance, is amazing.

How time and space may stretch the delicate frames of reality . The fabric of reality itself.

I know you not. I know you for shittily not. I know most for not.

Because, I create space.

I love space

And by love, I mean, I create space.

Enough distance for me to think of myself as weird.

In all my relationships.

With enough space between us, I may judge us, and feel not any weight on my conscious because of how I decide my hammer shall slam down onto this oak wooden desk. Shelf. Pavement.

I watch, as my nonexistent car, in this nonexistent life, carries on, without me fully initiating on how it must be carried out.

Without any job, I judge myself.

Without any humility to those whom I judge as .. Fools, Ludacris, insane sons of bitches... I leave myself alone with my own pickiness of isolation.

I watch as my friends leave me, and leave me as they no longer become friends, but mists of a memory.

I will miss you, but I will tell myself not to.

A lesson in becoming bitter.

You recognize and hate in people what you hate in yourselves.

Today, and for the past couple of days, I have had a conversation in my head with a fellow classmate Joe, that he is too.. bitter. Too bitter for my life. As by me dismissing him, I make my life greater.

Seriously.

I have chiseled and carve my own pedestal out of the own.. Real kindness, real authenticity of broken yet perfect and whole humans, the raw materials, the raw genetic materials the raw psychologically infected materials of this earth. – I carve them away into spoons.

From which I may suckle and sip all the sorrows this INGENUINE life has to offer.

For now, I leave this abruptly unfinished – as any “life” may be.

SEE – YAH.

(FACK.)

I am shaking

Is it because I'm not eating breakfast?

It's hard to say where control, handling it, and then losing it comes from. Where is drama, melodrama, and boredom.

Where is my reality and insanity.


Are you handling things? How do you handle things well.

In my Ayurveda book, it says it's good for Kapha types to skip breakfast every now and then, this is optional. So I assume I am a kapha type - but not assume.. I'm not sure.

In the last two days I have been a bit.. in a mist? A cold damp fog. Or maybe not.

Many things.

I need some stability and strength, as always.

I hope I get my place Sublet.
I hope I get able to move.
I hope there is money for this.
I hope I learn.

I'm seeing the house viewing in a bit.

Life - taking risks. Letting your wrists and hands shake.

Do you feel weak too?

Last night I ran home in intervals from school. It made the commute quicker, and I didn't feel as light or continuous as I have before. The other day walking up my street's hill, it felt .. more.. sluggish? Why am I breathing heavily? Is this just winter? Is this just in the context of my memory remembering going up long ass inclines with a good load of weight beneath my feet, hamstrings for survival.. yet walking myself up this hill, and my min believes that I am under performing.

I feel like my arms are shaking. And i think they are.

Maybe it's from the coffee I had this morning.

I'll get ready for the viewing.

Good bye