"if she had spurned gifts from fate or god or some earnest subsitute, she would never geel it in that way. she felt like someone of whom she was fond, an old and future friend of herself, still unspent and up ahead somewhere, like a light that moves"

i exposed myself to the city

my tits
my thighs
my stomach
my eyes
but i never turned my back on her

she leered
she judged me
she bound and tortured me
she entered me
but i clung to her horizon like a branch on a dying tree

i am hotboxting in a winnipeg hostel bathroom alone out of what feels like complete and utter apathy

my ex boyfriend just texted me asking how to resize an image on tumblr

he posted a photo of his current girlfriend on instagram eating christmas themed sugar cookies naked in his bed

i just received a text from him that said 'nm i got it'

yesterday i felt like i had a 'bonding experience' with a no longer really friend of his

she is the roommate of my friend caroline who is francophone and wears cat-eyed glasses

i was supposed to stay at caroline's house for the holidays, but caroline's boyfriend (who is also my friend) and her roommate (who apparently was not fond of me) decided they didn't want me to. i received word of this by facebook, with a message sent at 10:43 am 2.5 days ago that started with the word 'hi' and ended with the word's 'i love you'. she told me i had to leave by today, so now i am in a hostel

i desperately feel like posting a photo on instagram of a print-out painting of a dog on the hallway wall of the hostel i am in, but i am nervous about leaving and making my room smell like weed, so i will wait longer until i can do so

i feel so connected and disconnected to the world that i want to rip my skin off my bones and throw them around the world to connect with difference spaces more efficiently

i will probably send this blog post to a friend

i feel anger towards her

i don't know why

if the world was primarily constructed by kale smoothies and half-eaten eclairs i would be fine with that

i need help

i need something or someone

i feel fucked

i feel insane

i am completely alone

i am sleeping in a hostel tomorrow night in the city that the people i love most reside in greatest quantity

i am sleeping in a hostel tomorrow night in this city

why am i here

why do i bother

why have i ever bothered

there is nothing

this is nothing

it is all nothing

and it will be nothing for the rest of forever

tonight was a good night

i sang karaoke with all of my best friends and a bunch of them who never sing decided to sing multiple times

on the way to get pizza after karaoke i almost got hit by a white pickup truck, and i jumped on the back of it and yelled 'i had the right of way' ~6 times

while eating pepperoni pizza i discussed the merits of racism with a young man wearing all camo that had the word 'pussy' tattooed on his fingers. i felt sick in a good way after eating the pizza. my stomach felt full and warm

we took a cab at 1:30am to an 'after hours' club owned by my close friend that i used to have sex with, and there were at least 100 people there. rap music was playing extremely loud, and i felt excited, happy, and proud that his 'club' was doing so well (not many people were coming ~7 months ago). at the club i danced and made pleasant/sincere small talk with a lot of people. i did cocaine with a very thin, very gay friend who made me feel very good about myself by saying 'you look incredible. have you been eating? because you currently have an ideal hourglass figure so you should keep not eating if thats what you're doing'. i told him i hadn't been eating but i have been eating constantly. a lot of people 'hit on me' at this event, including moe, a person that i had sex with, a few times when i was 17, who followed me around the entire night to the point where i had to ask him to stop. i definitely felt 'on point' tonight

there was no moment during this evening that i felt 'bad' or 'upset'

i left at 3:48am and tried to find a cab or walk home, but it was -30 and i got frustrated. i waved at a tow truck driving in my direction and pretended i thought it was a cab. the driver stopped and the conversation essentially went:

'you look good'

'thanks, you shouldn't rape me because my dad is a police officer.'

'i wouldn't do that. i'm a nice guy. you look cold.'

'ok, thanks'

'where are you going'

'about 15 blocks down'

'come on in, sweetheart'

we discussed his mechanics degree and how his newly obtained job as a tow-truck driver was going. i told him my name was sarah and that my dad was a police officer named joe. he said his uncle was a manager at the police station and i told him i would ask my dad if they knew each other

i got him to drop me off a block away from my parents house so he wouldn't know where i was staying, thanked him and told him he would get "good karma"

when i got into bed i ate a handful of chocolate covered pretzels and watched the ending of casino royale

an essay i wrote when i was 16:


"At every stage in our lives, we are forced to succumb to consumerism. Whether it is through

advertisements, music, film, or simply word of mouth, we have been exposed to it since day one.

When I was very young, I had an almost unhealthy obsession with the then-popular recording

artist Britney Spears. I made up dances to all of her music, knew every lyric, and even tried to

dress as scantily as she. The moment the Pepsi commercial featuring Britney aired, I refused

to drink anything but “the drink Britney likes”. Looking back on this, a clear indication can

be made as to how all of us become so blatantly lifestyle-obsessed. From an early age we are

forced into trends by what is simply the most marketed. At the time of my early childhood, the

main attraction was an artist like Britney Spears. Now, a 6 year old girl may turn her admiration

towards someone like Miley Cyrus or Justin Bieber. The Orange Fish looks at consumerism

from a superbly straightforward angle. At one point or another, everything is original and new.

However, as time goes on things are copied over and over. The simplest way one could view it

is with a copy-machine. One copy can be made, and it will come out nearly perfect. However

if that copy is copied once again, and so on and so forth, the image will eventually become

unrecognizable and unrelatable.

The Orange Fish is an obvious example of the way our possessions can connect us to each other,

while at the same time pushing us further apart. The story beings with a 30-something couple

who are both drowning in a middle-aged rut.

 This couple is on a hunt for something that will change their lives, but their search is to no avail.

That is, until they find a print of the orange fish. This painting creates a warmth and feeling of

unity inside their household almost immediately. Soon after purchasing the Orange Fish they

attend a meeting of people who also own prints of the painting. They feel connected to these

people because of the joy the painting has brought them collectively. However, the narrator

soon comes to the realization that the orange fish will eventually be downsized into posters and

stickers and stamps, and soon enough will become meaningless altogether. The story ends with:

“There can be no turning back at this point… the orange fish, without a backward glance, will

begin to die.”

The same thing can be said for something like the internet. Initially, the internet was created to

connect army bases and soldiers. Conversely, as time went on and technology progressed, office

computers were built, and then PC’s, until the internet became a necessary part of our lives.

Today, there is no novelty whatsoever when it comes to the internet. People use it for everything,

and it connects everyone. On the other hand, aside from connecting people in a positive way, the

internet has aided in the progression of hate groups, violence, child-pornography and bullying.

As with everything in this world, at one point or another, it becomes overused and exploited.

Along with this, it is quite fascinating how the age of 30 is almost always associated with

depression and being “trapped”. A character like Jack of the novel Fight Club is a classic case

of a rut-ridden 30-something. He refers to himself as a “slave to the Ikea nesting ground” and

describes how instead of reading pornography he reads the “Horchow furniture collection”.

The difference that these two stories have is that in Fight Club it is physical possessions that are

tearing people apart; while in The Orange Fish, the painting brings people together.

The first line of The Orange Fish is “Like others of my generation I am devoted to food, money

and sex…and have been unhappily married… for 12 years.” Reading this line, the first question

that comes to mind when faced with this statement is “If you are so unhappy, then are you still

doing what you are doing?” This story is, while among other things, homage to the married life

and all of the difficulties that tie into it. On television we constantly see that generic, boring

couple picking out lamp-shades at Home Depot. Things like this are easily mocked until we

realize that the people in that Home Depot commercial are us. Yet, the human race leads our

individual lives as the consumers that we are because it is simply what we are used to. If we have

learned anything from our past couple thousand years in existence, it is that humans hate change.

The Orange Fish itself is a symbol of the connection so briefly made, and so quickly lost from

human to human because of the advancement in technology and material things. “What we

need,” I said, gesturing at the void, “is a picture.” shows the lifestyle obsession that the people

of our generation have adopted and are clearly unwilling to shake. The Orange Fish provides

a glimpse into the future of all material possessions that were once valuable, if we do not treat

them with care, and make sure not to exploit them. Though, as we have noticed throughout the

years, this is one of the hardest things for one to do."