“apartment door was closed and triple-locked” by Julia at her desk

Monday March 18, 2019
8:56pm
5 minutes
The Langoliers
Stephen King

I can’t have you look at me that way
With eyes dripping pity
Boy you never looked less pretty
I don’t want your face to say
You knew better all along or
This is a self-inflicted song
Weeeeeooooo the wound is pulsing
Weeeeeooooo the pressure rushing
I’m not cut out for this
Can’t handle a setback or a twist
Where’s the paper I signed up for
Can’t recognize my signature from a blood stain on the floor
Weeeeeooooo the ground is home
Weeeeeooooo this place is normal
Maybe I was wrong once or twice
But I never kept the knife jabbed in
Who are you to know my sins
Can’t have judging eyes
No one look at me

“They say looks aren’t everything,” by Julia on the 84

Friday January 25, 2019
9:40pm
5 minutes
What to Look for in a Horse
Brett Elizabeth Jenkins

I want to see a person and not make any thoughts up about who they are and what they do and why they’re wearing what they’re wearing. I do make up some thoughts about some
people but mostly I thank myself quietly for being me instead of them. They are busy being them, wearing the shoes they wear, the big bright buttons on their slacks, the cool hat, the stupid shoes. I am not judging. Stupid shoes is not an opinion, it’s a broken ankle waiting to happen. What makes a shoe more stupid than its shape is where that shoe is worn. Managing a restaurant? Stupid. Walking the dog in a rainstorm? Stupid. The person I have no problem with. Or maybe I do. Maybe I’m one judgemental piece of shit projecting my unexamined insecurities on people just passing me on the street on their way to the grocery store. Looks aren’t everything. But it’s what you see. It’s what you notice. I don’t think the flower kingdom is going around saying, here I am, but I’m not just a pretty face, I matter, I’m important. Everyone knows flowers matter but if they self-claimed it they wouldn’t have time to simply live it.

I may have lost the plot a little bit here.

“in a less than forgiving city” by Julia at her dining table


Wednesday September 28, 2016
7:32am
5 minutes
vancouveractorsguide.com

I came to the place in myself I always worried I’d find. The part that doesn’t have patience for people who don’t pull their weight, the part that doesn’t feel good about having to remind a group of adult children how to get by. Maybe I should have signed up for this in advance. If I had chosen to help people maybe I wouldn’t hate them so much. If I worked in a place where my help was needed…

I am so disgusted with the hole in my chest that comes from resenting other people. I don’t want to admit it but I need help too. I guess that’s where the pain comes from.

When I was in elementary school, I was often ahead of the class and I cared about school and being great. I was always assigned to work in pairs with the students who didn’t understand any concepts, or who didn’t like being there. When I asked the teachers why I couldn’t be put with someone who was going to work hard and push me to be better, they all told me the same thing: You’re a strong student, you don’t need help as much as they do.
So when did anyone look down at me and think, well there’s some potential, why don’t we try to lift that one up? Why didn’t I ever hear, well she could use a mentor or an opportunity?

“You’re such a big mess” by Julia at her dining table


Tuesday September 27, 2016
6:58am
5 minutes
Welcome To Your Life
Grouplove


I bite my tongue so I don’t accidentally tell you that you’re getting what you deserve right now. I haven’t been one for tact before and I’ll tell you that it’s not an overnight thing for me, but I am trying. Self-righteousness doesn’t become anyone. You’re upset, it’s like you want to cry but you don’t because you know on some level it will just make things worse. My first reaction was to laugh, actually, when you told me. It took seeing you like this for a minute after to realize that my judgments are not very subtle and even you could use some support during this. It’s very hard for me not to tell you that I told you so and that this is a good opportunity for you to get back on track, but my friend Laura is constantly preaching about empathy and you fit the bill for someone who could benefit. But what did you think was going to happen? I can’t for the life of me figure out what was going through your head.

“The way we judge” by Julia on her couch


Monday, October 7, 2013
11:19pm
5 minutes
The Four Agreements
Don Miguel Ruiz


The way we judge hurts and flirts with all the good things. All the good things.
Closed eyes, hand on heart, sort of reaching in every which direction without knowing the destination. Knocking off every single mantle-piece, art installation, packet of stale crackers.
And things get in the way, like the people we love, like the people we trust. And we throw them into a pit filled entirely with piranhas.
We don’t know it yet but it isn’t very useful. We do it because it’s easy and it feels good to take the blame off of ourselves every now and again. Especially when the biggest critic there is lives inside our skulls and pounds every wall down just to be heard.
It sounds like humour but it’s a pretty little mask.
We can’t stand to be alone and we can’t stand to think that someone else was justified in doing anything at all. We pick at each other’s scabs because we don’t like the sight of our own blood.
Squeamish little fuckers.
Then we smile and laugh and sing and dance and pretend like we’re all best friends with each other.