“If your passport is damaged” by Julia on the living room floor in H’s Air bnb


Monday August 28, 2017
9:39pm
5 minutes
from the passport booklet

my passport is good until 2023 or something like that. I opted into the ten year thing. I have a good photo so I’m lucky. I should probably travel more to get some better use out of it. Lately I’ve been taking my drivers license with me for domestic flights. that makes me nervous but also makes me feel cool. I am lying on the floor right now. I am not flying anywhere. They say if your passport gets damaged then you should inform whoever it is that issues them. I want to know how passports are getting damaged. Are people stabbing them? Are the bad guys painting them with nail polish? This is a very serious question with zero
serious answers. I keep mine in a yellow Koodo bag. Safe enough.

“It depends how aware you are.” By Sasha in her bed


Saturday August 19, 2017
3:51pm
5 minutes
Lennon on Lennon
edited by Jeff Burger


He comes home raging
his eyes are round open
he’s not sure what the point is
in doing what he’s doing

I’m questioning everything
where I come from
where I’m going
what I do and what’s the meaning

Four thousand strong
gathered twelve blocks away
give or take
take or give

I nurse a neck that’s twisted
wrecked and tense
with warmth and lemon
with ice and tv

“Good girls wore miniskirts but not hot pants” By Julia at her desk


Sunday June 18, 2017
9:56pm
5 minutes
They Used To Call Me Snow White…But I Drifted
Regina Barreca


I wish we didn’t have to fight so hard for our bodies. How can one opinion be the ignition behind so much devestation. All these lies we told ourselves because of the lies we heard first from someone else’s head. It must have been a group. There must have been a threat lobbied at enough of them to cause a movement. Why hold some bodies back if nothing is at risk? But what was at risk? What could it have possibly been to mean so much? What is the small bone we must find before breaking all of ours instead?

“to achieve perfect personal silence” by Julia on her couch


Thursday December 3, 2015
10:15pm
5 minutes
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Maya Angelou


I don’t like to hear myself breathing; it makes me too self-aware of being alive that I start to think about death. The absence of breath. The absence of thought. Eternal rest, peace…silence. I realized that audibly yawning triggered these ideas when I woke up the man who shared my bed by doing it. I had never realized how loud the tiny second just after it peaks, after the soft pallet is fully open, was. That I was luxuriating in it without thinking about it, or questioning it. The next time I yawned after that, I tried to quiet the denouement and found that I could achieve an effective yawn, almost gratifying enough to suffice, if I stopped adding sound to it. It’s less enjoyable but it doesn’t make me think about dying.

“see discuss contemplate” by Julia at her desk


Saturday, October 17, 2015
10:55pm
5 minutes
A Toronto Public Library card

Can I ask you something?
I say this to you right in the middle of a long and delicious make out.
Right now?
You ask, eyes still closed and hands still wandering.
No, I’ll wait a couple weeks, as you were.
I keep kissing you, a little more preoccupied than before.
What? What? You have to say it now.
You are no longer kissing me. Your hands have found a stagnant position on each side of my face.
Nah, forget I said anything. It was stupid! Where were we?
I shove my tongue down your throat and you reel away from me like I just tried to lick your eyeball or something.
Hey, hey, what are you doing? What’s going on with you?
You’re still holding my face, searching deep into my eyes, hoping to find something better than what I’m giving you right now.
I just wanted to ask you….If you…I wanted to ask you if you ever…fuck…just if you…
I am looking anywhere but your face. It’s harder than I thought it’d be.

“I was just, like, wondering” by Julia at her desk


Friday, April 10, 2015
11:39pm
5 minutes
Overheard at W Caffe

I’m always wondering
Where will I go
And if I should carry you
With me
Will I know?
I’m always wondering
What will I be
And If I should stay with you
Or leave
Will I see?
I’m always wondering
If I am strong
And if I should hold you close
To me
Will I be wrong?
I’m always wondering
What should I say
And if I can forgive you
For me
Would I fly away?
I’m always wondering
Is this the end
And if I can feel you
With me
Will our hearts mend?
I’m always wondering
Can I be great
And will you please free me
From you
Will I be saved?

“I was just, like, wondering” by Sasha at W Caffe


Friday, April 10, 2015 at W Caffe
1:24pm
5 minutes
Overheard at W Caffe

I was just, like, wondering if maybe I could go out tonight? Papa? I’m just gonna turn down your program for a minute because I need your permission, or, I’m wondering if I could – … So there’s a, a, friend, a new friend that I made in my Chess Club and h – … they invited me out to a, a place… I’ll ride my bike and maybe take a taxi home? May I? Papa?

There’s nothing I can do to convince you? I don’t really think it’s fair because I’m seventeen and other girls are allowed to go out on a Friday and I’m already done my homework for the whole weekend… I did practice the violin.

COME ON! I do well in school! I come straight home every day! How many times have I asked you for something like this? Do you want me to start sneaking around like every other teenager?!

“Destroy the evidence” by Julia on her couch


Saturday, July 26, 2014
3:20pm
5 minutes
Cards Against Humanity


Paper trail, burn it up, up in smoke, burn it up

-How’s your book coming?
-My what? I’m not writing a book.
-But I saw your receipts. The ones from the coffee shops.
-Well since when do lattes mean I’m writing a book?
-I know you don’t actually drink the coffee.
-Yes I do!
-No you just like the way it looks beside your laptop. That and I know you don’t write anywhere else.
-That’s not true. I write. I write at parks sometimes.
-Why are you hiding it, you never keep these things a secret.
-Oh my god, fine, it’s about you. Okay? Happy?
-You’re lying.
-What do you want, exactly?
-I just want to know what you’re working on. It seems very sneaky all of a sudden and it makes me anxious. It makes me anxious thinking about what it is you could be doing.
-I told you, it’s about you.

“I’ve breathed the mountain air” by Julia on her couch


Tuesday, July 22, 2014
10:49pm
5 minutes
I’ve Been Everywhere
Hank Snow



I’ve been so angry. I have been, it’s been a mercury is rising sort of thing, and I swear, that if the real me doesn’t happen, I’ll be your worst nightmare. I’ve been that way. Blinded sight, twisted light, couldn’t write that way. Where the only thing that calms me is the fight, that way. I couldn’t control it, I wouldn’t, shouldn’t, didn’t but I sold it. And it’s too late to try and get on its level just to scold it. It’s out of me and gone, the anger, the angry, the anger, the angry, the anger in me. That one we’ve seen. That thing I’ve been.

“YOU A LIAR” by Julia on her couch


Friday, July 18, 2014
11:32pm
5 minutes
overheard on queen st west


OH I HAVE HAD SO MUCH A YOU THAT IT IS ENOUGH NOW. ENOUGH, NOW, ADRIAN. WHY YOU GOTTA BE SO LIKE THIS ALL THE TIME, HUH? NOBODY EVER EVEN TAUGHT YOU HOW TO ACT, HUH, ADRIAN? ENOUGH BECAUSE IT HURTS MY HEART AND ENOUGH BECAUSE IT HURTS MY EVERYTHING ELSE EVEN MORE, ADRIAN. YOU HAVE BEEN A BAD PERSON. BAD LIKE THE WORST WEATHER. BAD LIKE THE RAIN, ADRIAN. YOU A LIAR. YOU A LIAR AND NOW I KNOW IT AND NOW EVERYBODY KNOWS IT. WHY COULDN’T YOU BE GOOD? WHY DID YOU MAKE ME BELIEVE YOU WERE GOOD WHEN YOU NEVER COULD BE GOOD. NOT EVER. YOU LIED. YOU A LIAR. YOU A LIAR TO ME. WHEN I FIRST SAW YOU I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY ONLY. AND NOW. AND NOW I AM FIGHTING TO BE ALIVE WITHOUT THE YOU I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO BE. SO NOW I AM DONE. I AM SORRY BUT I AM NO MORE OF WHAT YOU THOUGHT I WAS. I WAS DIFFERENT BEFORE BUT NOW I AM DIFFERENT FROM THAT TOO, ADRIAN. YOU SHOULD HAVE GIVEN ME THE LOVE THAT I WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE. YOU SHOULD NOT A LIED TO ME. REMEMBER WHEN I PROMISED YOU I WOULD BE YOURS? YOU DON’T EVEN REMEMBER THAT, DO YOU ADRIAN? I PROMISED AND I AM NOT A LIAR, YOU A LIAR. YOU THE ONE THAT MAKES ME WISH I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE. IT IS ENOUGH NOW, ADRIAN. I WANT YOU TO BE SORRY. I WANT A SORRY FROM YOUR LIPS. CAN YOU PLEASE TRY TO BE SORRY? CAN YOU PLEASE TRY TO SEE MY HURT NOW THAT YOU GAVE UP ON ME AND YOU TOGETHER?

“Feed your creative juices” by Julia on her couch


Monday, July 14, 2014
11:43pm
5 minutes
from a pencil case


First things first-hi, how are you, don’t answer that, are you well, don’t answer that. Second things second-did you return that dvd to that damn store that is always trying to take our life savings, don’t answer that. Seconds things should maybe be first things. Whatever. Hi. How are you? Respect, respect. Did you-okay, sorry. I’m a nag. I was born that way. I have a lot of questions, mostly about things I suspect you’ve failed to do so asking really doesn’t change anything, but god, yes, I want it to. I was born that way! It’s in my blood, my ingrown hairs– Well, if I had ingrown hairs. I know what you’re going to say, blah blah, nobody will want to marry me if I have scars all on my arms, but I don’t have ingrown hairs because those things, those itty bitty life problems are now solved because I wouldn’t settle for leaving them where they belong. I am acutely aware that I have nagged my ingrown hairs so much so that–hi. Hi! I’m sorry. First things first! Rewind! Hi. I’ve missed you. Did you clean the litter box? OH MY GOD. WHO AM I. Don’t answer that.

“they are content with burning my books” by Julia on her couch


Sunday, July 13, 2014
4:42pm
5 minutes
Freud, 1938, Vienna
Lou Lipsitz



So I come home (hard day), the radio’s blasting (of course it is), and Jeremiah is sitting cross-legged on the cold linoleum (of course he is) surrounded by a perfectly stacked circle of all my books. I stand there in the doorway (leaning) just looking at him (confused), while he hums the alphabet song (leaving out J and S, I can only assume), and touches each book as if for the very first time. He’s deciding (magically) which ones he’ll discard (burn) at the final moment (3:33pm), while I question every single reason (mole, laugh, orgasm) why I’m still with him.