“Addiction” by Julia on the 4

Monday February 25, 2019
3:36pm
5 minutes
We Need to Talk
An interview with Anne Hallward

Everybody has either a thing or two or three that we can’t live without or a thing or two or three that kills us slowly
we can think all we want that it could be worse
and maybe that’s reason enough to stop trying to fix all our little holes
something like sugar isn’t that bad anyway, right
Unlesss the internal organs have asked for that to be reduced or changed or stopped already
we can say that we’re not addicted to each other in some way or another but that could be a convenient way to pretend we’re independent

“the two men ceased exchanging words” by Julia at Ocean Village

Saturday February 2, 2019
3:42pm
5 minutes
Marlarky
Anakana Schofield

Milo is not talking to RJ because RJ is hugely unreliable. He said he was going to be around for a call after Milo finished breaking up with Bex. RJ wasn’t around because he was at the bar drinking like he usually is, trying to pick up vulnerable women who are suffering from insane amounts of self-doubt. RJ likes being the one who puts them back up on the ledge. He likes being the soft thing they fall into. Milo is even more mad at RJ because he refuses to admit he was wrong. RJ never learned to say he was sorry, or that he recognizes how his avoidance of reality effects the people he says he loves.

“all past, present or future actions” by Julia at Amanda’s island

Wednesday December 19, 2018
11:11pm
5 minutes
From an application form

It’s about anger now. I’m about to let the lid off this house and cry to the high heavens.
Nobody wants me mad. Wants me dripping instead. Wants me nothing. I was nothing before this. I was very close to needing too much. You made me angry and now it’s about anger. Maybe that was your plan all along. I’m about to give over to it. It’s close to taking refuge in the soft spot of my nice. Nice no longer exists and hasn’t for a long time now. Have you been paying attention? It’s gone. I don’t think it ever was. Naive maybe. Spineless used to be here. You remember, don’t you? Nothing you said ever got a No from me? That was all the fear of being real showing through. Every other time I was real I got the boot. People disappeared like sugar being poured into a hot cup. The taste of desperation gets an addict hunting for her next fix. It’s not about feeding those demons anymore. It’s about the anger, like I said. I couldn’t be clearer. Things are going to change. You will be the first one to see it.

“associated with anticipated use” by Julia at the studio


Tuesday August 1, 2017
9:04pm
5 minutes
from a GOLDEN artist colours box

I can’t talk to Hollace anymore. Ever since he started forgetting to line both of his eyes I knew something was wrong. Now it’s like he’s buzzing just beyond me but in a glass bubble that keeps him out of reach. He doesn’t seem to want my help and I don’t know if I could help him anyhow. He thinks he’s doing a good job of faking it. He is to most people. Most people can’t tell his personality from his warning signs. He’s tricking almost everybody into loving him. He sometimes gets close to getting me but then I catch him. He’s lying through his sweat, and I see him up close no matter what frame he’s in. In the locker room I put earbuds in but no music. I want to hear what kind of breath he uses around me.

“Now that I’m free from any such shackles” By Julia at her desk


Monday March 6, 2017
10:18pm
5 minutes
davidsilverberg.ca

Of course he asks what I’m working on the moment I leave my work to check my Facebok account.
“Nothing really,” I tell him, because saying, “well, I was working on my novel, and before that the pitch for my television show, and before that I was busy securing some income so I was working on that” just sounds like an excuse train. In this very moment, no, I am not doing anything, and at least in this very moment, not doing anything means also not lying. I don’t need Facebook although I tell myself I do. It’s filled with opinions and videos of cats and maybe some event information that otherwise NOBODY would e-mail out. It’s filled with endless scrolling down the lives of others who are also not doing anything right this moment because they are on Facebook too and have posted an article to their wall to make it seem like they are working very very hard.
I imagine him giving me a pittying smile and saying, “oh, yeah, of course you are” with a snide undertown of prentiousness since he’s already been off Facebook for a month and a half. He doesn’t smile at all. He says nothing.

“Why do we do that?” By Sasha on the Spadina Streetcar


Thursday, August 13, 2015
11:24pm
5 minutes
Overheard on the Spadina streetcar

Do you feel lost without your cellphone?
Literally?
Figuratively?
Do you long for the weight of it in your hand, your pocket, your purse, like you might long for a lover or a brownie?
Do you crave to look at it, to check it, to search with it, to move with it?
When do you put it down? Turn it off? Let it go?
Never?
Ever?
Do you shut it down when you shut down? Do you let it rest?
When do you say good morning?
Is it the first thing you look at? Speak to? Connect with?
One new Facebook friend, three new “Likes”, seven Twitter followers, two re-tweets, a text, five emails, a voicemail.
“Hi, it’s Dad. Just calling to say it was so good to see you and I love you.”
“Hey, it’s me. When are you coming over? Do you need dinner?”
“Hi! I heard you’re in town! Welcome back home! Wanna get coffee?”
A voice.
How does it work? No wires, waves, maybe, sound waves, web waves, waves like the ocean but in the sky, searching, searching, searching.
Touch screen, touch fingers, touch bellies.

“I am a taffy snob” by Julia in the stairwell of the Artscape Youngplace building


Saturday May 30, 2015 at the Artscape Youngplace Building
4:01pm
5 minutes
From a text to Julia

I was in Halifax when I tried my first piece. Salt water. Perfect Melting New Religion. I bought 6 lbs of the stuff and threw out a pair of running shoes and a flask so I could fit it into my suitcase.
Emmy said, “I would have taken those shoes!”
Taryn said, “you know you can buy that stuff in Ontario too, right?”
But I knew it wouldn’t have been the same. It was like entering a childhood backwards, and experiencing something that was never mine but felt like it was meant to be. Now I don’t go for any old taffy. And why would I? I don’t hate myself for Christ’s sake! Why would I walk if I could run? No scratch that–FLY.

“I haven’t messed with or taken anything at all today.” By Julia at the Bloor/Gladstone Library branch


Friday March 20, 2015
1:07pm
5 minutes
Black Butler
Yana Toboso


Clean As a Whistle Wendy! That’s what they call me. Cause I can be counted on when it’s important (and when it’s not) to be fully present. And to drive people home when they’ve consumed too much! You can call my references, who are mostly my friends, because I’ve been nothing but a good one to them and they know it and they’ll tell you. If you want an example? Allow me to give one through a story. I was not my best self, one day, long ago, and I was finding myself easily persuaded. I would say yes to anything! I would say no to the consequences! But when I was asked if I wanted to put things up my nose like the rest of them, I said no! I said NO to that and I said yes to everything. So I made sure everyone arrived alive! Because It was a very clear choice! Say yes to everything but stand up for one thing. See, black heart and all, but my veins are clear as day! And that’s how I got my name!

“I haven’t messed with or taken anything at all today.” By Sasha at her kitchen table


Friday March 20, 2015
10:58am
5 minutes
Black Butler
Yana Toboso


I like it when I’m spinning and the only way I can get that feeling is on a tire swing or with a shot of – … Never-mind, I mean, I don’t wanna upset you. I haven’t messed up or taken anything at all today. I pinky swear. I got that flame inside though… Needs more kindling. There’s a soundtrack, right, constantly playing these chords on a piano and I can’t keep it quiet because then, I mean, I hate it, but if it was quiet I’d think I was dead. Or dying. And clapping hands… To the rhythm of a march. My father was in the army right, so maybe it’s one of those memory that isn’t yours things. Maybe it’s one of those… I’d be more comfortable if we could go down to that little park around the corner so I could swing for a bit. Wouldn’t be so twitchy.

“I never have before” by Sasha on her couch


Monday January 5, 2015
11:01pm
5 minutes
from a tweet by Anne Lamott

It was better than it used to be but it wasn’t the best. This is part of it. This is the ache before the growth spurt, at least that’s what you tell yourself. When you crawl to the kitchen, lips dry, eyes only partly open, you wonder when the sun might reach a ray out from under the cloud cover. It’s hard to find the light when there isn’t any. The doctor says: no more booze, no more pills, no more smokes, no more chocolate. What’s the point then? You mother would laugh and pour herself a double scotch. Who knows what your father would do. You drink a diet cola and wish it had something deeper, grungier, skunkier in it. You smile at the photo of your nephew on the fridge. You’ve never met him, but you will.

“Paper Resistance” by Julia at her desk


Friday November 28, 2014
3:01am
5 minutes
from Internazionale 14/20 Novembre 2014 edition

It’s itchy so I’m scratching
Got that pill addiction happening
Wish it wasn’t wish I didn’t
But then there’s that paper resistance
I keep trying to replace it but the fact remains it’s aces
It wants me like I want it
And so it goes tat for tit
Game changer when it stops the feed
The hunger grows
The need for greed
And I keep singing to myself
calming the notion that my answers are on a shelf
Somewhere stuck the bottle shakes
I hear it moan my whole earth quakes
I’m somewhere stuck without the drug
But the magic makes me glug glug glug
Hop to it one more instance
15 down and I’m still with this
Wishing hard for a bell to ring
Saved by the moment someone else will bring
Alone in the hope that is called denial
Cross-legged on the cold hard floor and pray to the bottle for a little while

“to listen to when feeling nostalgic” by Julia at her desk


Tuesday November 25, 2014
1:23am
5 minutes
from a YouTube comment

No, no, I’ve learned by now that I shouldn’t be allowed to be left alone..Not with chocolate. Ok, fine, Deena, not with THE salted caramel chocolate. In the BARS, alright? Because, Deena, don’t. No, cause I don’t want to be forced to admit something. I know who I am, obviously. What am I supposed to say that it’s better than sex? WHO WOULDN’T SAY IT IS? You even would say that it is. And I know this because I see the way your face narrows when you hear me describing it. You’d like to think very much that I believe you’re jotting down notes and observations and judgments about my dependency but I know you’re just drawing one big O and tracing it over and over again. You’re a little hypocrite. There’s no such thing as just one piece, everyone KNOWS THAT, DEENA.

“ADDICTED?” By Julia at ITIT Il Sandwich Shop


Thursday October 16,2014 at ITIT Il Sandwich Shop
6:52pm
5 minutes
from a Sandwich board at ITIT

WHY WERE THEY YELLING AT ME? I WAS FINE BEFORE THEY STARTED WITH ME! I WAS SO FINE I COULD HAVE KILLED SOMEONE. BUT NOT, THEY HAVE TO DO THAT DANCE. THAT STUPID “YOU’RE MAD” DANCE AND THEY ALL KNOW I WASN’T EVEN MAD. I WASN’T MAD UNTIL THEY STARTED ACCUSING ME OF BEING MAD! WHY DON’Y PEOPLE GET THAT? WHY CAN’T THEY READ THE ROOM? THEN SUDDENLY, WOAH, SERENA, THAT’S TOO MUCH. THAT’S TOO FAR. YOU’RE THE ONE WHO CAN’T TAKE A LIGHT ISSUE WITHOUT TURNING IT INTO A FIRETRUCK OF SENSITIVITY.

WHO EVEN THINKS SAYING FIRETRUCK AT A TIME LIKE THIS IS CLEVER? WILL SOMEONE CALL THE COMEDY POLICE AND ARREST THESE BUSH LEAGUE IDIOTS FOR WASTING THE PRECIOUS SPACE OF MOTHER FUCKING HUMANITY?

AND THEN IT WAS JUST DOWN HILL. SO FAR DOWN I COULD HAVE KILLED SOMEONE. AND THEY WERE LIKE, WOAH, SERENA, ARE YOU OFF YOUR MEDS AGAIN, AND I WAS LIKE, NOOOO, ARE YOU???

“I don’t want to find myself” by Sasha in her garden


Saturday August 16, 2014
4:58pm
5 minutes
a poem by Mary Oliver

When the song ends, she smiles. She brushes hair from her face. She shrugs when asked is she wants another drink. She takes out her phone and she looks at it. She turns it off and on. She thinks about that song from Ally McBeal Ooga chaka ooga chaka and she furrows her brow, wondering where that might’ve come from. She checks twitter. She thinks about what to say. She thinks about whether of not she should write something about that song. She decides against it.

“Axe throwing league” by Sasha at her desk


Sunday March 9, 2014
9:43pm
5 minutes
overheard on the 72 pape bus

Those dark corners of our relationships where we’d rather not look? Where we’re happy to let dust settle and rarely vacuum? I learned that that’s not such a good idea in the long run. Sam is surfing Buzzfeed like a real animal these days. Right now. He’s on it. I know it’s bad that I look in the window reflection to see what’s on his screen. He doesn’t need to know the “10 Best Study Snacks”! He’s not studying for anything! “Read a book!” I shout. He laughs. So. Here’s the latest. I think Sam’s addicted to the Internet. Not in a funny/cute way, in a ‘Are you okay?” way. The other day, I get home from work, arms full of groceries and library books. He’s on the floor, sitting with his back against the couch and he’s reading a blog about an Axe throwing league. “Whatchu doin’?” I ask. Nonchalant. Totally cool girlfriend. “Looking into an exercise program so I can lose my gut,” he says, eyes glued to the screen.