another christmas passes by, and i am left befuddled by my curious family once again.
top (both good and bad, and in no particular order) memories:
1. beautiful indian boy massaging my hands in a organic beauty store.
2. my sensitive grandmother saying that my nose ring looks like a pig's.
3. realizing that i do actually love some of my extended family.
4. seeing how lucky i am with my immediate family.
5. buying a bump-it (FINALLY!!) at the dollarama.
6. a. being canadian.
b. partaking in family "christmas shots."
7. crying with my grandmother at the tragedy of alzheimer's.
8. meeting one of my cousins who i have not seen in a decade.
9. wearing this fantastic hoodie that i purchased thanks to boxing day... slash going shopping and actually bonding with my cousins.
10. reading heinous lyrics to my 55-year-old uncle's ridiculous songs for his mandolin (we don't play a flat tricks / we stick with a major and get the chicks).
oh canada. i don't know for how much longer we will be going to canada for christmas. soon my siblings and I will be rooted in jobs and spread all over, and these forced ties between certain family members will be lost. family is a strange, strange thing when you think about it.
while the sun boosts your self esteem, i will tear into muscles and nibble on pretzels. my hopes will dash the new year in its tracks, and my future will astound. if only the ones i love the most could point me in the right direction... or else music will carry me far away from anything sensible and i will live this life like it is my first day. stop leaning on walls; they will get you nowhere but the ground. leave your chains behind you, and embrace the future that is you and a Plan--for everyday gets longer from here on out. cordless, i will fly to a telephone pole and i will send messages by yelling on the tops of them as the shouts pierce the wires, so, maybe then, you will be stranded in your disastrous desire. part of me hopes you stay there forever.
remember this, love:
when you only love the things you see, you will find yourself alone in the night.
chilly wind carves out our jawlines and sharpens our cheekbones, as the wind fills in the empty spaces inside our jackets. rushing inside as snowflakes melt off our eyelashes, likes tears. and we cry over the big things to miss the little flakes left on our shoulders, clinging to us for distance.
your oblivious, ignorant attitude while cause your eyes to lose sight, and your hearts to harden. pity for the foolish man. instead, nod your heads to the powerful speaker and laugh. for i will smile and sing when i feel you can see me, pitying the fool while praying for ignorance.
I am broken like everyone else on this earth. Understanding is my gift, and I have a passion for singing. Blank scrabble pieces are my worst nightmare, and writing music is my dream. I love to dance, but not synchronized steps. Over thinking things is a skill of mine, and I wish I read more. My head stays firmly planted on my shoulders, and over the years I have come to admire loyalty, faith, and courage. One day I hope to master one of these, or at least attempt to recreate all three.