The age of intensity

Age of intensity conjures up an image of how one could perceive a demanding and controlling medical system. By this, I mean that I find it difficult to stay on one topic when all I can think about it is how exact such a system can be.

The grammar is a mystic's tool. By rearranging different rules in writing, different rules in speech, and different rules of the society's choosing, control is de facto present because of the governing rule of grammatic artists' collective consciousness and influence on complexity of neccesary said grammatical rules. In other words, oppression and intensity are like twins on a beach.

What about limiting the car choices? What about limiting how many flights one can order through a phone? What about strangulation of individual freedoms - who will dissent when the counter and pro cultural movements waste time, money, and future and past space.

Losing track of time and losing battles against meditative wars is a scary concern.
The Black Clouds and Silver Linings are still playing, and I hit publish.

Edit: Jul 2022 I'm going to leave this post up because it's one of the weirdest things I've ever written, and that's saying something. Enjoy.

Dragons and demons and swords and tape

I hope you're getting the shield
Yeah, well, I'm still listening to Drake and wishing I had more time to learn how to re-enjoy my ex-hobbies

It turns out that sometimes, when people say "oh, my ex" they're not actually referring to ex-girlfriends (or boyfriends; ex-girlfriends before ex-boyfriends on Thursdays because Thursday is ladies' night pretty much everywhere) - they're in fact referencing past experiences, because women aren't objects.

Is writing a hobby? I had the neighbours (where neighbours are things I heard) mock me for holding on to this lifeline, and sometimes I find myself doubting if the neighbours are real because they sound like fire, police, and ambulance sirens. According to the neighbours, they're real, and sometimes I treat my housemates like neighbours because if I don't I worry that I, too, have an aging memory.

"I've never really been one for the preservation of money"
Probably because I feel one for the loss of the penny
Rolling pen bags in the dime daily doing rows
Selling notes like similes weekly whilst rolling in the k-scope

Anyway, the big bus is still in my life. The big bus is the big tiger, except the big tiger doesn't pretend he's a bus because if he did, he would be Hobbes and I'm kind of sick of Hume, too, but don't let el tigre know that I came back and edited my blog after publishing another entry.

Rocaillichou et le masque de fer

Il y a longtemps déjà, il existait une roche parlante, si polis à cause du temps et l'expérience que plusieurs poissons, qui habitaient proche de la roche, décidèrent de la nommer "Rocaillichou" en l'honneur de la pagaille de quatorze dix-huit, la tourbillonnante.

Rocaillichou était une roche resplendissante, même quand elle était à l'ombre du soleil et, parfois, pouvions-nous l'entendre chantonner avec une voix rauque (et rocailleuse quand il neigeait). Nous nous réfugiâmes loin de la roche quand il pleuvait; autrement, nous les molécules ombrées, admirâmes Rocaillichou de loin quand la pénombre tombait. Nous nous cachions parce-que le fluorure chantonné invisible de Rocail' pouvait nous faire réagir d'une façon inconstante.

Les molécules particulaires qui habitaient plus loin que nous, et par conséquent qui n'avait pas la joie d'entendre Rocail' avec sa voie parsemé de trouvailles bijoutées, se promenaient sans joie - non à cause du manque de fluorure, mais plutôt à cause de la nobilité talqueuse qui égratignait leur pesanteur historique. En autre mots, ils étaient malléables, tandis que nous étions rigides mais plus rapproché de Rocail', et par conséquent choucouprés.

À être continué...

Prise singulaire

Caught in the middle... of my university degree

Don't need no one else, I can run away from it all by myself

I don't need no help, I can start flame wars all by myself

Don't need no one else, I can walk it all by myself

I don't need no help, I can write this blog out by myself

... and brute force for all

... always double check what blog you're writing to because sometimes I write things that people do not have the capacity to understand because they are also disabled. Oh, and my doctoral thesis is still in the works and I am not great with procedural errors because I do not have a reason to care about them because I am finally institutionalisationally free.

I must be doing something write with my life because I am a smart human being who seldom gets As in school because getting there is a complete nightmare and I really, really, really dislike vehicles with 0-1 people in them.

You know, I'm going to continue writing in english for a while and be greatful for the fact that I'm still not writing in french because apparently languages that humans speak are not as important as C+. /s

In other news, I am grateful for the fact that I managed to avoid reddit for an entire month+.

Lastly, I am expressing gratitude for all the music I get to listen to without fear of being pursued by the law because I actually pay for my own life now instead of having my parents do and decide everything for me.

My english writing is pretty violent, but it helps me feel better so I write it out and sometimes, reader, I publish without thinking about who is out there reading this because I don't get constructive feedback anymore. To be fair, if you're reading this, it's possible that you don't get feedback on things you write either, but my time is limited due to my heartbreaks and I don't mind making my writing illegible so that robots cannot skim the data and rehash it for other people to take and make their own... without my feedback, I am an empty shell of a writer.

Words have power, so I know I must be careful with what I publish, but because I have always considered this place my safehaven, I think the Canadian and American lawyers can get off my back: I have not made a dime off my high school project (and I still don't have that diploma!), but hey, I made it to the #1 university in Canada so maybe if the people who know nothing about my life could stop being obnoxious, my life would be sooooo much better.

I'm reading a book called Whale Music by Paul Quarrington and, so far, I find that it is pretty great because the word Toronto is mentioned and a major part of my identity is the fact that I continue to live here (but I complain about noise complains more than 25 years ago)(or not, I really can't remember).

COMODO CA how ya feelin".

Screams so real

Hey, mister murder I; hey, mister murder I; bought you a plastic mouse; needed four pairs of eyes; I left two of them - behind!

Inspired by: A Metric Fire Inside

Steptember climber

I was once asked: "Gabe, why do you front so much"?
I replied: "I don't even know what fronting means".
If it means being inauthentic, then I have fronted before, because to live authentically is to write and communicate in a way that transcends basic barriers of speech, and, insofar as platitudes and weather talk loudly, writing softly is far more challenging for me when I don't have the right people and influences around me to effectively convey what my mind wants to say.

Unreleased and keyworded - Freewriting the Grey

Robbed the arctic.

I’m sick of citing musical influences, so I’ll just say that I listened to Paramore radio... again. And Mississippi John Hurt as performed by my dad.

I went somewhere I should not have yesterday. In this place, I found it difficult to breathe. How are you going to tell people to breathe if you can’t listen? How can you tell people to listen if they can’t breathe? No subject matter, NO PROBLEM.

Arraigning your own way

I went my own way, too

Master list of labelling fits

J'écris souvent des listes. Ces listes, souvent bureaucratique en nature, esquivent mon regard quand il m'arrive d'oublier que je les ai écrites. Ces listes, je les trouves importantes car elles me gardent centré sur la folie sans équivoque que je subjonctivize et bastardise en forme écrite. C'est absurde, mais c'est comme ça que j'écris maintenant.
Une liste qui archive des listes n'est pas gaulois; par contre, plusieurs listes qui ont la capacité d'organizer plusieurs listes ... c'est quoi un minitel?

'cause no one helped me, no one helped me except the 'hood

The music in this city is truly horrendous after a long weekend (especially when the locals get to pick).

Ceci étant écrit, je vais continuer d'achalander le traffic pédestre en compétionnant avec les automobiles perdues et, en autant qu'il y a un chauffeur et plus, je suis heureux

Title inspired by whatever the hell is playing on the kitchen radio (usually boom, but sometimes Ez Rock y Mix).

C'est absurde!