“your natural body” by Julia on her couch


Friday February 28, 2014
1:06am
5 minutes
the Cocoa-Shea Butter container

Before the worship and the punishment
Before the sacrifices and the indulgences
Before the fast food and the slow food
Before the fake stuff and the right stuff
You were a thing that needed almost nothing
You needed love
You got love
You needed water
You got water
You needed nourishment
You got nourishment
Somebody made sure you got what you needed because your needs were not bigger than you
Now they are
Now there’s a thing called “chocolate”
One called “wine”
One called “on sale”
One called “tomorrow I’ll be better”
The colorful images telling you now what you need
To be happy now is harder
It’s very very hard
We have to sift through the things
The things called “cars, goals, comparisons, delusions, medications, drugs, fantasies, corruption, impatience”
If we sift we might find a shirt that looks good on
Like a second layer of skin
Meant for wearing and being very happy

“while the real work is done outside” by Julia on her couch


Monday February 3, 2014
2:08pm
5 minutes
The Essential Rumi
Rumi tr. Coleman Barks


Get on those steal toes, that hard hat, that tool belt. Get on outside where the real world fights its fights. Protected by the construction of our warm and cozy houses, we sit and we contemplate. We fear the windows when the blinds are drawn, we fear the callousness of strangers we have not yet had the pleasure of meeting. We fear the ambulance and its never-ending cries. We stay indoors, thankful for running water and a steady stream of television programs or movies ordered by e-mail. We don’t leave the couch to see the world in action outside of us. There is a whole big thing out there, and it looks just like your imagination dreams it does. Only worse. Only better. There’s no way of knowing if the dead bolt on the front door stays locked. Just a thought. Just a hunch. That we thank those pillars and roofs and hardwood floors for keeping us safe and sheltered and avoiding anything that might cause us even the slightest amount of pain. There are people living in their nightmares all around, and not in a house with books rescued from the streets. Not in a house with a pumpkin loaf baking in the oven. Not that we should choose sadness. Choose hardship. But we should not stay in our pyjamas until noon, just because our jeans are cold from the wind blowing in through the cracks.

“novels, poems, journals, and letters” by Julia on her other couch


Sunday November 3, 2013
12:21am
5 minutes
The Birth Of Frankenstein program
Litmus Theatre


Oh I was trying to tell everyone while they were FUCKING UP MY VIBE that I was going to make it happen. It was vague, and yes I know this, but I was delivering it in such a way that would have CHANGED THEIR LIVES. And nobody was listening to me. They were busy looking up different time zones and seeing how many hours behind Alberta was. Who the fuck cares? Can I say that? Cares? Can I say that or will everyone automatically just stop, drop and die like a bomb went off. Nobody fucking cares. About Alberta. About me. And I was making it into something beautiful, I’m telling you. Make it happen. Like the tattoo on my soul sister’s wrist. She told the world in a quieter way. It’s intelligent, it gets your attention. But I don’t know any better. I wanted to use my words. I wanted to THROW OUT COLLOQUIALISMS and be a human with a mission statement, stamped, signed, sealed, and delivered. GODDAMMIT. It sounds so stupid now! I might as well just write it down in every novel, poem, journal, and letter, but these useless fucking creatures would probably skip over it because with my luck, something about pickles would spark their fucking interest instead.

“sorrow for the lost” By Julia on her couch


Tuesday, September 3, 2013
12:20am
5 minutes
The Raven
Edgar Allan poe


if you thought you couldn’t find your way, you might have convinced yourself to never look, to never learn to read a compass.
you instead know two things about yourself: one, the only time you ever cry is when you have been made to feel embarrassed, and two, the first thing that pops into your head always makes you laugh. you don’t necessarily feel like you’re capable of being anything but those two things, and even when you can sense the self-deprecation in your own inadequacy, you somehow can’t quite get over that it’s absolutely true. now someone told you once that you were fine just the way you were and if people didn’t see that then it was their problem. but one of them had someone tell them that they were fine just the way they were, and then shitty just becomes relative. good becomes relative. and you are lower than your potential because you believed it when you heard it, and you didn’t know how to change it.