blog virgin

Well, where to begin. I'm a third Irish, a third Canadian and a third American. I'm half Catholic, half Muslim and thinking of becoming half Jewish. I can't help it really, I don't like to leave anyone out. A chameleon perhaps or just along for the ride. Anyhow, i have a penchant for paraphrasing and stereotypes, like a john wayne movie. Sometimes on those days when I walk outside into my groundhog day existence, you know that southern california one, where day 1 equals day 365, where a cloud is a change. Well sometimes when I walk out there I think somethings going to change. Like the guy down the street, he's going to keel over, massive heart attack and I'll have to run to the rescue, I'm craving a messiah complex, where my day doesn't involve passing by people unnoticed. Where I don't look at everyone that passes by as an enemy until proven otherwise.

And I look forward to the silence, the silence that makes your ears ring and ring and ring your first night back upstate. no ear junkie treats for you city boy, deafening, uncomfortable, but home. No crying babies and their alarmed mothers, babies fucking cry and sometimes it doesn't mean a god damn thing. I'm awaiting a mouth, a voice coming from that mouth through silence, that is so fucking true, that is so real, where every word that comes out isn't trained by a cell phone or a dog, the one with the wagging tail, that speaks beautiful words that begin with something like "Trash" or "Bourdeaux", unadulterated, raw and unflitered. Words so dirty, so classy they can't help but be heard cleanly. Maybe I'm just awaiting love in the form of a hepburn with a stache, a light parisian/sicilian mix.

, until then, being smothered in the words of thousands of self-indulgent bloggers I think is slightly satisfying, there is no better place for anonymity, in a world without silence, you can't be quiet for too long without people finding you a bit peculiar.