To Panny, and everyone. Hence the sharing.

What i've grown to realize is that whenever i meet someone, that first 20 seconds is all they know about me, it allows me to form the person that they meet. Being mindful of all emotions, actions and words allows me to create the person that I am from the person I want to be.

As a person knows me for longer, that image becomes diluted. Not necessarily a bad thing. But, your life is your tapestry rachel, and you are the painter.

Grab that fucking brush and paint, girl.

and, what's the worste that could happen?

Bodily harm?

Emotional harm?

Death?

All these things, though painful don't scare me.

well, the feeling of the unknown does.

But that's about it.

The possibilities are infinite

Who do you WANT to be?

How do you want to behave.

What do you want people to know about you?

What do you want them to see when they look at you.

Look for it in others and they'll see it in you.

You judge, you see them judging.

Love all and all will love you.

It's not those with all the answers that know everything, but those with the questions.

So, I'm gonna stop now.

Afternoons and Coffeespoons

Someday I'll wear
Pajamas in the daytime
someday i'll have
a disappearing hairline...

Perhaps not. I've got a lot up there. Strangely, my hairline is disappearing, but it's moving from the outside in, not the front back, back front or everywhere at once.

Just got off the phone with Marlene. Old boss. Sort of. Barnie's daughter. Love her.

Here I sit, in my seated position. Legs bent, back straight, eyes only slightly glazed over.

If you've got access to Afternoons and Coffeespoons, put it on.... Now. I'm about to. There it goes.

I've succeeded in finding myself employment in Victoria, British Columbia. Well, sort of, Sooke. At adventuresooke. rads.

What the hell am I going to write about? I don't feel like I've got anything worth sharing with the world inside my head. Without the inspiration of another person, I'm left with the void of my own being. Too many possibilities bounce around my head. From images of the dogs that would abe showing in the room if I opened my eyes, then they stop and I focus only on the keys, my fingers, remembering where each key is, stroking it with expert precision. Perhaps a spelling mistake here or there. Inspiration at last.

This morning I woke up in a park. In vic, a person acan camp in any park between the hours of seven and seven. It's pretty much the greatest thing of all time. If there was a name for the person that wrote these things, it would be speakable with the toungue of a dog. A simple bark to let the world know that I'm here.

I close my eyes again, and listen to some song lyrics. They bounce around enough to make a person wonder why music even exists. Well, it makes me wonder why music exists. Plahying music can be quite liberating. Liberating from thought, fear and self0oppression in much the same way that dancing can be. I applied to a dance instructor position. I hope they respond to my email.

Currently clothed, though naked yoga is the greatest yoga and spiders are fearful of onions. They hate them.

Eyes closed. A thought of a lotus is again overshadowed by the images of spiders and dogs. The wolf spider, with spider body and senses, a wolf's head and the temperament of the king of spider rock. Her spell is that of carnage and her spirit is reversed like the inside of a volume contar.

Feared enemy of the wolf spider is Hermetacles. But the rivalry between Hermetacles and the wolf spider is overshadowed by the loathing the spider has for Leeroy McTavish, slayer of spiders and wolves alike. All sizes. Wrist-mounted miniature crossbow locked and loaded, with onion-tipped bolts at the ready.

He moves silently through the forest as only a man raised in such a place could. Carefully, he picks his way along the rocks, careful not to slip, step too heavily. Rocks stay where they were, unaware that "The" Roy has made his way through the area. Once a party of three, El Keego and Johnny Boy dropped off after the first apex of the mission. Even their lights are unable to find The Roy.

The lagoon to his right is a lagoon that has been around since the dawn of time. This was the stuff that birthed the first beings. Things which existed. THINGS WHICH LIVED. tHINGS WHICH EVENTUALLY CRAWLED THEIR WAY OUT. Crawled their way out to contemplate the pools from which they came in some distant past from some distant future. The Roy was a being whose contemplations of the moon led his mind to the center of the sun. In a cycle that included the mind, moon and sun, but that was a future The. A The that does not yet. But soon will. Is becoming. The lagoon is filled with the most basic and sensitive of terrestrial creatures. Creatures with no spines, which live in the saline depths of the warm post-mordial stew. I love those creatures in a way they cannot love one another. He hopes to one day achieve something for their benefit. So they may some day crawl out of that soup. But, he's got to pick up a shit ton more garbage first.

The moved mindfully across the darkened rocks on the shore. Lighted only by the moon. not a full moon. Fading. It's star power, being poured out. Back into the sky where they belong. He dare not light his plastic, yellow flashlight purchased for him by his grandmother in a moment of sheere frustration on both of their parts, for then his post-comrades would spot him, allowing them to find him; stopping him from completing his mission. This mission, as it will forever be known. The Kraft Dinner Mission. Or KDM.

The premise for the mission was simple.

Lead a small party across the island, to the edge of the lagoon and prepare. One standard issue Kraft Dinner. Water only directions. It sounded so easy.

With the scouting and party leading ability of The Roy, the treck across the island was easy. Staff in hand, he led his companion through the elven village, filled with the children of the forest with much ease.l For you see, The Roy once lived in those parts, and knew the lands well. He was friendly with the locals. They were his friends. The wild mushrooms they had eaten together gave them all the strength of the forest. But, the forest was empty now, their laughter and cries are no longer heard, and the darkness is now. Tough to see in the dark. Even for the Roy.

The Roy leads, lighted only from behind, through the elven forest, by the darkened pathy of stumpwood. Rotten odours lift from the forest floor, tickling the nose of The Roy. Disorientation. Confusion. Panic. It obviously grips The Roy, as he spins, gasps and begs for the light. His companion does as instructed and becomes relieved to learn that The Roy has regained his orientation. His panic has subsided.

All for now.

It's 8:34

And my housemates all went to the Hose for a beer night. For those of me that don't know, a beer night is a night at the bar when an individual pays ten dollars and can drink as many pints of beer as they can in the allotted time frame, usually about two hours. The deal was that if Katie and Derek went to this beer night tonight for Jen Ballentine, then they would all come to the house party.

We had a house party last night. A party in a house is a house party. A party near a pool is a pool party. There was a theme, dress as something that begins with the same first letter as your first name. Since my first name is Brandonbrown, I decided to dress as something that was a pair of words which both began with the letter B. I was a baseball player with added bat wings, a baseball bat. There were other amazing costumes and the ratio of dress up to non was about even, with a little favour to the dresser uppers. A lot of favour. Music was supplied by Phil Mainville and Prusan Das. They'd never played before and have very different styles, one more of a house head and the other dabbling in the softer side most of the time. Prasun produces some of his own tracks. They played a great show and I only hope that continues to happen. There was a dance off. I remember very vividly standing on the edge of a cypher in my own living room. Braden battled Simon, it was fucking epic. I felt like a bit of an OG, as in ole G, I think, giving the youngins advice that applies not only to life but also dance. That sentence was backwards and I was bragging anyway. I'm sure I was saying nice things, that's about all that I can promise.

After the Bboy battle, the chartreus came out, or maybe it was before. I'm not too sure. It was passed around twice. Once with the six thirteen roomies, then the temperence ones. I did two shots each time. Man. My mom came if I didn't mention that already. She dressed as a hippie, was so awesome. But then she drove. Tsk tsk, she got a drunkenly disappointed phone call from her boy at five thirty in the morning.

Today, cleanup was a snap. Everyone helped before doing their respective responsibilities for the day and my typing skill seems to have flown out the window because I'm half asleep and my fingers are having trouble keeping up with my mind, an unusual ocurance due to the tepedly slow nature of my thought. Focused, as it were, like a laser beam of intimately insignificant creationism. It's now 8:43.

Summer

I guess I'm going. I suppose I guess I'm going. Sham then Burning man. And a tour of the westcoast dance scene. Then to the Central and South. Wish me luck faithful readers (if you exist).