“connection as friends.” by Julia at the studio

Monday, March 5, 2018
3:53pm
5 minutes
I Know How You Feel
F. Diane Barth

When we first met I wanted to like you. I wanted to like you and I liked
you. I said “She and I are going to be friends.” I said we were, and we
were. I learned that If I wanted something, believd in the wanting, in the
why, then I would get what I wanted. I tried that out on other friends too,
just to see. It worked. I wanted to like them and I liked them. I said “We
are going to be friends and we were friends. Maybe you could make the
connection that I made us have the connection. You could infer that I was the
one who brought us floating together in the same orbit to begin with. Afterall,
if you wanted us to be friends, wouldn’t you have made us friends?
You might interrupt here and tell me that we are friends because we both wanted
us to be friends. We made the connection in tandem. Made, a verb, an action,
a choice. I know that this is not the case because I did all of the work. I
showed you my whole thumping heart. I bled out when it was not convenient.
You said yes. But you waited for me to go first.You didn’t want it as bad as me.

“He’s not worthy of competing with you” by Julia in Da Nang

Saturday January 27, 2018
8:48am
5 minutes
The Duel
Thomas Brasch

You can tell me you’re not competing and I will be more likely to believe you but the ones who love me most and know me best will know you’re lying. I didn’t know we were after the same horizon. I didn’t know because I wasn’t looking over in your lane.

I only ever wanted to know how you are doing your best not how to do your best. I thought we could share instruction manuals once we got them. But you hide yours from me. This has been going on for years. And it is not a compliment to withhold your gold on account of my capacity. I am big and you are big but this constant comparing makes you smaller. You do that to yourself. I don’t want what you’re after. You could spend more time expanding. You could do that instead. Because I am big. I am so big already.

“community based competitions” by Julia at her dining table


Sunday June 19, 2016
10:38pm
5 minutes
http://www.academicinvest.com

I’m standing at the microphone and I can hear my own breathing inside my head, but everything else in the room is perfectly still. I am ready. I am prepared. I am under water. I feel true calm. I hear the speaker bellow out a long word in slow motion. I hear every single part of his word. I see every single part of his word. I take a deep breath and I pause. The silence is back. My focus is razor. I repeat his word, his multisyllabic and challenging word and I spell it back to him, punching. each. letter. It is good to be good. I am floating. I am waiting. The sound of the auditorium floods back to my ears and there is thunder. There is pulse. I am lifted.

“We were two ships in the night” by Julia at her “New York”


Wednesday April 20, 2016
11:23pm
5 minutes
Capsized
You+Me


Arden: Elliot, where did you get that ring?

Elliot: Why, you like??

Arden: Yeah, I like it a lot. It looks expensive.

Elliot: What does that mean?

Arden: Means it doesn’t look like something you’d buy.

Elliot: What the fuck?

Arden: I don’t mean it like an insult, I’m just saying.

Elliot: Well why don’t you stop speaking in fucking puzzles? What are you getting at?

Arden: Woah, pump the breaks, I’m just saying I like your ring and I didn’t expect you to have something like that. Because you don’t have a job. And I don’t think you’re dating someone? I don’t know, Elliot, fuck, just forget it.

Elliot: You’re jealous.

Arden: No–

Elliot: You are. I fucking knew it. You can’t accept that I might have one thing that you don’t have.

Arden: That’s not true.

Elliot: No? Then I guess you won’t care if I tell you that Nanna gave me this ring.

Arden: What?

Elliot: Yeah. She wanted me to have it. She gave it to me before she died.

Arden: Why the fuck did she give it you?

“her request seems to have been ignored.” By Julia on her patio


Sunday, August 16, 2015
11:01am
5 minutes
The New Yorker

Okay so we’re both wearing the same shirt which is not the first time and Dalton comments on Janie’s shirt and not mine which makes me want to compete with her even more, as if I don’t have a butt-loaf of insecurities I am already baking. Maybe because when Dalton walks into the shop, I start talking to him about all the various colours and flavours our cotton candy machine is capable of producing and Janie just sits quietly roping a strand of hair around her index finger with big shy eyes that don’t offend Dalton like my excessive and sometimes obnoxiously loud commentary does.

“This is a highly competitive, adjudicated process” by Julia at the Bloor/gladstone public library


Monday March 30, 2015 at the TPL
5:46pm
5 minutes
The BC Arts Council website

I have never been so nervous! I’m sweating behind my knees and I’m gassy like a bagel on a cow’s hip. WHY IS THIS HAPPENING? BECAUSE I CARE WAY TOO MUCH?? IS IT MY FAULT? I just want them to like me. To accept me and recognize me for my efforts. I think that’s a normal human thing to want. But this is big. It’s not just like, oh, you didn’t gain approval, it means, oh, you didn’t get funding, validation, encouragement to continue trying, etc, etc. I’m fully aware of the competition. I don’t want to be the kind of person who competes with the people out there who compete in these things for sport. But can a nobody compete against his or herself? Can this be turned into a positive somehow? I can’t think, I just want this. But did I do enough work to earn it? I don’t know, I’m sitting here waxing ridiculous to a bunch of overly medicated rich people who all equally believe that their kid deserves this over me.

“This is a highly competitive, adjudicated process” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Monday March 30, 2015
2:13pm
5 minutes
The BC Arts Council website

Ladies and gentlemen, theys and theirs, it is of the utmost importance that you understand that this is a highly competitive, adjudicated process. Not everyone will succeed. In fact, look around you, look at the over-plucked or unkempt eyebrows and the chapped lips and the waxy moustaches… Only a handful of these toenailed toes will make it onwards. This is not to dissuade you. This is to INSPIRE YOU! This is to set you FREE! Competition is the fire in your loins or loinettes! It’s the rumble in your belly (and not from burrito night!) It’s setting your mind to something with the whole-hearted belief that YOU CANNOT FAIL! (But you can. And you most likely will. Always allow that littttttle voice in the back of your head that says you’re a loser to taunt you and judge you and keep you in check.)

“Sarah is currently working” by Julia on her couch


Thursday March 13, 2014
12:09am
5 minutes
the Wikipedia page for Sarah Hudson

She has it in her mind to become the president of the “Tights Club”. Maddy and Addy started the club last year, but Maddy moved away and Addy got in trouble for being in a club. Sarah doesn’t want to tell any of the other girls about her hopes to be the president in case they’re all thinking the same thing. She doesn’t want it to become a competition. Sarah has to work hard to pretend like nothing is going on, and plant the idea in everyone’s head that it was their idea first to have Sarah as the president. Maddy and Addy shared the presidential duties, and because they started it, no one really questioned their authority. The only thing that Maddy told Addy was that if she ever wore non-tights outside of the Tights Club she’d have some serious explaining to do. Maddy only told Addy that because one time Addy did wear non-tights. They were jeans! She wore them because her mother told her that “tights are not pants” and if she was “going to go to cousin Jamie’s house, then she better put on some pants”. Sarah already only wore tights ever. She would make a perfect president.

“Axe throwing league” by Julia on the subway going west


Sunday March 9, 2014
7:33pm
5 minutes
overheard on the 72 pape bus
_
I got there and I thought it would just be a bunch of hipsters with lumberjack beards but surprisingly there weren’t any lumberjack hipsters; only real lumberjack lumberjacks. Chris spoke with a northern Woodbridge lilt, and Mickey wanted to show me all his photos or his dog, Carrie, who he said spoke to him more when he wasn’t home. I was staring at the targets thinking “how the hell am I supposed to hit those?”. I was admittedly even scared that I would kill somebody on my first night and not be asked back, much less make it to playoffs. Deter was scoping out the newbies so he was on my back like a hot summer’s day sweat, sort of patrolling me and making sure I was never anything more than uncomfortable. I told the guys I didn’t need to throw in case there weren’t enough for everyone. Deter didn’t like that. He called me soft and told me to “look around”. Shayna was competing against Sid but she had a smile on for me. She came up to me after her win and handed me her axe.

“MOD, MINI, METALLIC” by Sasha in The Kiva


Friday January 3, 2014
6:42pm
5 minutes
vintage shop on College

You think you’re so special in your minidress with the sparkly collar and the ruffled sleeves. It’s yellow. That colour hasn’t been in since the Jays won the World Series. I’m rewarding my outfit choice of smart, black, high-waisted pants and a teal turtleneck with chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate. But that’s for later. Now, I shoot you smileglares with my eyes and smilesmiles with my lips. “So…” I say, breathing in your smell, “if the boys are at the hockey game, what does that mean we should get up to?” I immediately regret it. All of it. You have that sparkle in your eye that you used to get when we were kids. “I think we should go out on the town. I think we should go dancing!” You think dancing means smoking. I know you do. “I quit.” I say. “You quit dancing?” You sip your scotch. “No…” I laugh, because you got pizza sauce on your dress and you’ll most certainly have to change.

“successfully completed” by Julia at her desk


Sunday April 28, 2013
10:23pm
5 minutes
A Smart Serve Card

a hundred dollars.
a hundred dreams. waiting. waiting. waiting.
buy me a little car?
not real.
plastic, please and thank you, no i don’t need to see your receipt.
i hate you.
i hate your money.
you can’t give me love without a couple coins.
your change is no good here, little boy, little girl. oh no, both of you?
i can’t tell you enough times.
your savings are depleted.
your bank account is ruined.
you’ve successfully completed the course on how to fuck it all up.
you passed! you’re a genius and deserve a medal.
gold.
silver.
bronze.
i won these all in elementary school.
i competed for the teacher’s approval. won it. won mrs. williams’s love and she bought me an everything bagel, toasted with cream cheese.
winners.
buy me a little car?
not fake,
real, please and thank you, yes i do need to see your receipt.

“Become a doctor.” by Julia on her couch


Tuesday, January 15, 2013
12:41am
5 minutes
http://www.stumbleupon.com

Knew this guy from high school. He said he always wanted to become a doctor, or a medic, or something like that. I never saw the use in science classes or math. I assumed I would never be anything close to smart since I didn’t care about anything that proved one was. This guy I’m talking about, we used to have these debates. Mostly about God, and philosophy, funnily enough. We competed for grades but we were in completely separate systems. How could calculus ever be a thing to compete with Lit? It couldn’t. And yet, somehow, he was convinced that I was going to be a problem for him. Like I said, I never expected to become someone you’d associate with smart. I should mention now, I guess, that I am in fact a doctor. The guy from high school? He’s the manager of a Danier Leather and he hates his life. I hated math and science, and then one day, I just decided I didn’t want to hate them anymore. It sounds over simplified, but if you knew me you’d understand. I just get it. I get a lot of stuff so it just depends on what I want to get. Then it’ll be good. I love my practice, truly. I can’t picture myself doing anything else now. Back then the only thing I thought I was going to be was a bright pregnant teenager who taught her future children about bad choices.

“which seems to include all persons present:” by Sasha on her couch


Thursday, November 8, 2012
9:22pm
5 minutes
The Art of Pantomime
Charles Aubert


I am looking at myself in the mirror and I am hating my old-new haircut. I am hating the shape of my face (round) and my stupid nose (big) and my fat cheeks (red). I notice a blackhead on my chin and try to squeeze it but nothing satisfying happens at all. I just leave a mark. I can’t believe that I’m this angry about something menial and simple like my face when… Fern got hit by a car when she was rounding the corner onto Jarvis. She was wearing a helmet and everything. It was a big car, a truck-car. There wasn’t even anything they could do. She was dead upon ‘impact’. What a way to go. Poor Fern. She was so pretty. She made the best banana bread. At the funeral everyone is going to talk about how she was the best samaritan this city has ever seen but the truth is… The best samaritan is me. I will hold my tongue, as it wouldn’t go over well if I was making interruptions and such at such an event but… I will know the truth. My face won’t even flinch, ugly that it is. Fern would get that prize because she was pretty and now she’s dead. I have no hope in hell. All persons present will remember her even better, nicer, more gorgeous, sweeter, kinder, ew ew ewwww because she’s dead. “Killed in the line of duty” heroic and romanticized.