“I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” By Julia on the 99

Sunday July 7, 2019
5:06pm
5 minutes
Philippians 4:13

I can ask for what I’m worth
I can believe in what I’m worth
impact
impact
remember how I’ve changed
changed the energy in the room
changed the room
impact
after the fact
during, before
I’m doing what I came here for
connect to the guts
connect to the love
lead heart first and
fall at the feet of a
stranger saying
you are enough
you are more
and I am you too
I am the same
the might is gold
the light is green
I’m ths dreamiest motherfucker you’ve
ever seen
I’m the way things were
but not the way they used
to be
and I’ve got packets of
promise and hope for free
I can believe that I am good
I can ask for what I need
I can push boundaries I’ve set up if they’re no longer serving me
I’m the anthem I sing
I’m the naked floor dance
let them know I own
every last steady stance

“This App Finds Every Discount On The Internet” by Julia at her desk

Tuesday June 11, 2019
9:32am
5 minutes
From a sponsored Honey Ad

I have questions about this. Mainly, is it safe.
Do I want some third party knowing everything I’m
interested in purchasing with money that I don’t
necessarily want them to be privy to?
I am not a daily shopper, a binge shopper, an expensive
shopper. I am, however, an impulse shopper, and
do I need those impulses to be made even easier to
act upon? Maybe I want to know if the shoes I’m saving up
for become more affordable, or the head phones, or the
baking sheets since I burnt the last good one we had.
Maybe, though, I don’t want my free time to be spent
“hunting for deals” because then at what point am I
L I V I N G. In the moment. Imagine that: real life!
It sounds alluring. Who is behind it? Is it the government?
Is it Facebook? Is it Nike? Is it sad that these things
make their way into my daily writing as if any of
it fucking matters? It’s one of the things I hate the most
about my generation, about the climate of existence
these days: The phone and its long cord was romantic,
the snail mail, a dream. To talk about a cellular device
that can make calls and simultaneously take photos
while connecting me to EVERY DISCOUNT ON THE INTERNET
is surely the opposite of that.

“you can’t feel nothing small” by Julia at her desk

Monday June 10, 2019
9:43am
5 minutes
Ophelia
The Lumineers

Whether the sun is out or not
I keep wondering where you went
Lots of pain in this medicine
I haven’t found it yet

Got a cool breeze followin’
picked the proper jacket
the pockets are deep and
the zipper works
a hood to keep my breath close

Where do you go
when the sky lights up
Are you ever thinking about me?
Summer seems to pass before it starts every year
And every season fades into memory

I don’t miss you, no that would be too small
I don’t keep your photo on my wall
I break my own skin
with every thought you’re in
making mountains out of molehills

Whether the moon is playing rough or not
I have you pounding at the door
A secret cave at the bottom of my well
And that’s what I keep you for

I don’t miss you, no that would be too small
I don’t keep your photo on my wall
I push and pull at my own skin
with every thought you live in
oh you keep on living
I can’t kill off the note that rises higher
I can’t dream another story into life
You’re the one I want today and forever
even if I never tell this story right

I don’t miss you
no that would be too small

“I have a tickle of a memory for no” by Julia at her desk

Friday June 7, 2019
7:32pm
5 minutes
from an e-mail

We are saying the same thing
six of one half a dozen of the other
I didn’t know how close we were
but now I see it dangling there

Hold my face up to your mouth
I’m the mirror, you’re my doubt
I keep this anger locked and low
Where do I find the truth, your
reflection has gotten dirty again

We are saying the same thing
I thought we were on different teams
But now I know this in between is
where we always seem to meet

We’ve got to say it’s a no
if the answer is one we can’t ignore
We have to go back in time
find the memory that was right

You’re just finding me hard to digest
these days we have lost it and then
what do we do when we don’t have to
do anything all damn day

We are saying the same thing
six of one half a dozen of the other
I didn’t know how close we were
but now I see it dangling there

Six of one
six of one
six of one half a dozen
six of one
six of one
six of one

“All winter we went on like that” by Julia at her desk


Saturday May 6, 2017
6:30pm
5 minutes
After Birth
Elisa Albert


It was a tough one with all the rain seeping into all my dry
I think it’s safe to say that something was trying to be planted
Something needed care enough to sprout

I used to dread cleaning my apartment when the grey outside made the inside feel dirty
Today I swept up a spider and saluted to her as she crawled away and into a safe place
The light painted my home in a newness that I’ve been waiting for
Everything on the shelves, a choice, a decision, an opinion
Spring has signed the contract, says she can take it from here
I cannot wish for something better than feeling home in the home I live in
I give thanks for the cupboards that hold every envelope, every light bulb

“A deliciously wicked pleasure.” by Julia on her couch


Tuesday, August 6, 2013
1:02am
5 minutes
ad for The Silent Wife
on the TTC


It’s a rocky road to somewheresville. Don’t know won’t care somewheresville.
It starts with a blurry line and ends with someone without a license free riding on the midnight highway.
With the windows down just a crack; enough to let the demons out. Enough to let the soul creep out and into the sky.
It’s a beautiful and and deliciously wicked pleasure. The path to uncertainty wrapped so tightly in a bow it suffocates. They would let that happen. Because it’s bigger than stopping it.
It’s a rocky road to somewheresville, with a stack of rebellions so high the Empire State Building starts to wince from anxiety. Toppling into the streets, the youth and the present all at once. The search is on for great and grand. The road is a rocky one…

“Open your eyes” by Julia in her backyard


Tuesday, June 18, 2013
5:19pm
5 minutes
from the monsters.ca ad on the streetrcar

open your eyes, let the pain out, got to surprise, the tears they won’t come out by themselves.
they’re stubborn there. they’re so so stubborn there.
got to coax them from the source, they won’t make an appearance until it’s do or die or die and do the same things anyway.
open your eyes.
let the hurt out.
there’s the magic feeling of letting it all go.
and you don’t want to do it here.
you don’t want anyone on the porch next door to hear you. you have to keep it low.
open.
open.
and when you get to the big bad parts. you’ll know the rest of what you do is for a reason.
are you alone, in your mind? Did you forget the rules.
i’m waiting to know. i’m waiting to help.
don’t let the situation dictate how you act. You are a behaving human being. you don’t need somebody to tell you where you went wrong. or where you went away.
open your eyes, and see the thing that has been missing.
do you know what I mean?
Do you see it?
Do you know it’s real?
This gingerbread house won’t make itself but we’re still hoping to taste the roof off of one of them anytime soon.
let the tears go.
let the tears out.
open your eyes.