community

sometimes we have plenty, sometimes we have none, but most specially we like to have fun. be it night time or day, come what may, see us smile in the sun, bring our friends bag, dont forget it, run. ill bring the razor blades, you bring the foil, a barbeque is what we'll say were having- smoke fuming out: come! whats her number does she have one what about him? i know him. when did she go? did he die-we were friends- now i only have some. the community mourns as one. lets party we all say but we know its just for fun for all seriousness we died already chasing our friends one by one. dont mock or hurt is weve already been done. dont scorn or chastise us, we know. were not blind, deaf, or mute, we're broken, cold and alone ready to say hey hows it going cheer up we're still here, friends, and some. to those that passed before us we miss you and dont worry we still have it, what you left us, the memory of friendship come.

MANDALAS vs MKICRATTZZI

im planning to print them out on canvas for putting up on the wall :) but have to quit gambling first here is a small portion of the latest one

a shared folder can be found here: https://www.icloud.com/sharedalbum/#B1zJtdOXmu0Ftom

limited public hosting on that shared album so i will post some of the mandalas i created using the mandala maker app here: (for your consideration)

patrice claude roy

i miss patrice. hes gone now i dont know where he didnt say. i miss pat because he was so smart. he was so smart and he was so sweet and well meaning. ugly as hell though we cant always choose what we like or look like. i miss him a lot but just as a friend. he was the worst partner ever. im betting his neurosis rivaled mine but you wouldnt know it. what i liked about his smarts was how i would innocently ask about why something was the way it was and more often than not he would launch into this explicit and fact based mode of relaying kind information so i would understand it and also he never sounded like a braggar nor did he ever chastise me for not knowing something. because he reads a lot a lot of stuff is hidden from him so when he discovers sonething new he would dive right in and read everything he could about the topic until he was totally immersed in thoughts of it. those were the times where i couldnt reach him and he was off in reading land. he also wrote quite a bit and was such an incorrigble troll online. always stoking a fire and instigating perverse thought from canadians online. his french is so heavily accented i never could understand any of it. and the photos of all the stuff he painted and built. what a talented sweetheart. i adore his family home and farm and swooned at an outside deck / patio he built around the house when he went home a few years back. he showed me the photo and i asked where he bought the wood for the pretty white bannister and he said "what do you mean, i cut that." and i marveled at how neat the wood looked all these straight lines with a decorative top at each segment like the ones you buy in home depot, but so much nicer definately looks bespoke. if you can call a bannister bespoke. his family home is like some lind of heritage house its ginormous and theres even an addition. he said his family is from napoleons line. it complimented my families rizal line. he painted a lot of film sets. when he would do speace and sci fi it looked so fucking real i would just stare i couldnt understand how he did it with just paint and wood. entire spaceships. anytime he would work in film i begged him to take photos of the work he did because he was exceptionally talented with paint. even though he went to school to become an engineer he took a left and made it out in the film industry instead. i wonder what the world would be like if more artistic men like pat ran it. certainly all illcits would be regulated. and women would go for shorter men. probably. pat was just as tiny as i am but hes much more fit. when we were close but shy at each other he worked out a bit and his tiny little body was so proportioned with a broader upper back if you saw a photo you couldnt tell he was my size. i could put my arm around his shoulder and he could mine plus looking at him eye to eye was a cinch. i loved his proportions and could draw him for hours if only he would be willing to pose nude for me but hes the trype to be shy about it and wouldve scoffed at the idea and claimed it preposterous. i miss patrice and wish he wasnt so mentally crazy and ill when he would get caught up in his emotions. he kept a lot inside and would show me which made me laugh but i also learned how to keep my mouth shut a little bit more. i wonder if we will ever hang out again and if we do if patrice will get over his imagined thoughts of me and apologize for all the trouble he wanted to cause. i wanted to be more involved with patrice and share life but he is much too independant of women and a total bachelor til death i dont doubt it. he enjoyed his freedoms and his dalliances with other women friends and it meant nothing to me except i would see him less. when we slept on the same bed we slept like the dead. there was something so comfortable in sleeping by your best friend that our bodies would fall into such deep relaxation that time froze and we would sleep for enternities. since hes been gone ive been mostly quiet and only recently found another conversation to ramble on about nothing with. im sure if pat met my newer friend they would get along because they share ansimilar character. nothing cones close to patrice though. i dont regret the less than a decade knowing him it was about 8 years of pure friendship with patrice- the whole time both of us sick as dogs and struggling with life because we are so imaginative everything in life made no sense and we were always wrong or wronged. so we had each other to complain and lament to. now that pats gone i do tend to take it seriously that i am lacking smarter friends who can explain things to me but i dont mind it as much anymore because i guess i forgot some parts of pat and certainly the parts i didnt like because now i just miss my friend patrice claude roy.

ramble for me

my view from a basin i wonder if ever youll fetch me some water my love however isnt near so must i have a long trudge oh dear the gps is here whew my view from a basin had a first part i said it aloud but now forgot so im writing again my view from a basin i wonder if that exit at bay is in cumberland or not weather be willing i fear sweet lips so shy dont speak my dear ramble ramble about and say wheres nichols bp i saw it here just last year i wonder if i took a right on huron then a left on huron because id be trapped in the labyrinth that doesnt synch up til god knows when those kitchens give up they line up and i fear a party is near have you seen them theyre clever but rowdy a bunch of crazy fools dont mind me and off he went in a huff i say he was a barkeep i wonder gee whiz ive seen em on king but amsterdam im not even kidding that part is parted we dont have it you know it had subs and all kinds of large things were they housboats i bet theyre leased and housed up here torontos the spot the where which one take a taxi the water one ive never oh yeah i forgot ive taken some oh no i heard [~garbled] duplicates here the actors have scenes in places we forgot theyre filmed and shown right on the spot ive seem em in kensington right on the tv i know those i laughed so hard i spat!

new post

bosnia is built on a flood plain?

mountain time in april, wednesday

fooled ya its only tuesday last week or so today is the 6th but it said the second and i know its the 4th even though i know its actually the third dont you mean three? no i said 4:20! so is it thursday or not?

dreaming

i live in broader dreams and astral plains; this world is far to fain for me. confusion and convolution is where i'll be; finding comfort in the chaos is me. there you'll find friends you couldn't say bye to; they live on in my mind and where they live is fine to me. nevermind what they say for they never asked directly. to say hello is painful for my reality to abide those fair weather friends with my time. i'd rather face the storm with a smile because knowing the storm starts memory revising reality. in the dreaming is where you can find me sailing along breezily. with friends i havent met yet and those old friends i had to let go long ago. that reality is intact and remains so. this world far to fain for me; i'd rather argue continuously.

dreamt of my grandmother last night

i had a vivid dream of her and i spending a day together we had a bit of a trek and walked back to her house from wherever we were. it felt like toronto but i knew we were walking through old manila into santa mesa and it looked like we entered trinity bellwoods park into her fmiy compound, now sadly sold because it too exensive to maintain. it was awesome so vivid and i loved so much it makes me want to cry how i was here when she died amd i feot it i thought she was scared because of everything she had to leave behind to others to take care of but not in her way anymore. i found this old writing abput my families my mom amd dads side intermarried and became tue oldest and most wealthy family in the country with the biggest family hacienda or compound next to to religious order. this is where i speny every sunday. i miss mama ning amd she was so beautiful and staunch and just so old school amd perfect.

ode to fifteen crystal roses

spiral teardrop from my eye, overcome aquarium; the darkness in that valley thyne. crystal glasses, roses, drugs and time.

the real truth

i finally figured out whats wrong with me. i was raised to be a successful socialite by my families. i then of course rebelled and decided i could not bare the pressure and came to canada for school. i then ran out of financial ssupport in my last semester and was not able to take the last class because i could not handle the stress. using my new credit card afforded to me by the bank i paid my last international student tuition 4k a semester and spent the next eighteen years paying and not paying off this now long gone debt with handicrafts and sheer boldness in the face of rationality knowing full well the outcomes would be my needy hand clutching a bunch of rent. periods of stability interspersed with a couple of near misses to my literal life due to the fact that i had to move more than anyone i know the entire time facing the difficulty of not being able to find anyone who could asses my symptomatic maladies or diagnose a prognosis or even address them to me in any way. i had extreme bouts of anxiety my entire life because of how people treated me. its something to be hated because of your attitude or personality or manner of dress or fashion or anything but not knowing the reason and everything is picture daisy picadory but the extreme feeling of the others hatred towards you is beyond mystifying and you have to act like theyre actually treating you so kindly etc then learning it later during covid when peach told me i think you have something in your throat because i had it and it probably smelled the same to her so i clued in and checked my throat and gagged and almost vomited for the next three years getting rid of a lifetime of smoking and likely progressing to throat and lung caners of the mouth and other decaying things like the other thing was a venomous thrombosis of the sinus i diagnosed it after looking for it my whole life and it was just the trauma symptoms and lack of attention on the matter of hydration with extremely clean water and the fact my nose the catilage part its too small and my collapsed tube its just so tragic.. anyway its because i was born this way and theres nothing wrong with my parents either its just how shit stank so bad is what makes the building codes here make more sense. same goes with handwashing and a sense of humility in the face of set in stone behavioural occurrences in the nature of traumatized individuals though this makes no sense to judge people in this light. thats why i dont think i talk shit at all when i am freaking out about someone or a lot of people spying on me at the same time in real time. my body isnt an idiot its a very sensitive being made of sensory organs and circulating elements of the universe. when i say holy shit youre an asshole i fucking mean it. but when i say your an asshole and mean it then we can both laugh like fucking lunatics and i wont phase you to fade out you fuckin nazi - but if you want we can talk about it. my problem is people dont get me and how traumatized i am because they never asked me what happened to get me so traumatized. oh ill tell you in a sentence or two but to make me enumerate the drama or actual event and relay all the other problems that came after like same name, looks like, felt like that color looks like against that thing- all too real and would cause intense emotional pain etc. very difficult to express the humiliation i feel just with everyday interactions against someone here on my word denying ma privilege reserved for patrons who are using the service and covid literally tried to murder me with that stolen gazette and massive list of business license numbers combined with what i was doing in toronto on my own. my work is constantly stolen from me while i am doing it using nothing but what i can get to a library the city hall internet google apps thats what everyone can get to but my wrk is only stolen i do not have any of my old art work just pictures maybe no more slides not any internet pics computers stolen plundered belingings all because of that stolen gazette and what i saw being transmitted live in real time on the phone literally the entire gazette slowly changed and also my phone- the literal text the sms text was moving the words were chainging it looked like they were getting pushed over to the right letter and another letter would take its place until the entire text was replaced with something different or similar or opposite in nature. i saw in that royal gazette edition the entire toronto small business pedestrian market. every immigrant who came on the original program who opened a small neighbourhood shop pre development was on that list and the subsequent growing city businesses these shops and business licenses were needing to be put into the computer because of the land claims/ greenbelt land shift and some of these leases or deeds were only handwritten or on documents that hadnt been put in yet and it was about to expire that method of collection. when the names and business names of the list changed into this horrible gang stalky violence against women production i worried that the original snall businesses would not get informed and they would lose their business license which anchored the neighbourhood to begin with. most of these badly outdated convenience stores in older toronto neighbourhoods still had their first haul of goods and were in serious decay. not only did they need updating for their data storage but they needed a helping heart to bring these small old corner stores a new thing. some of these stores had foundation sidewalks for the coty of toronto. their sidewalk was the first sidewalk in that village or neighbourhood. likely packed dirt prior. the missing toronto neighbourhoods could have picked up and been identified through a collaboration with the bia's of that neigjbourhood, making a new map of toronto by these perons and mostly immigrant families who were given the small business loans or opportunities in exchange for a loyal presence in the neighbourhood which needed a commercial update but there were no interested parties and i was interested but as i was forming the concept all this happen med and also i was homeless and extremely sick with help in sight. the small business listings in that gazette i kid you not turned into this fierce catty production of hunting for this landlord that was only in aggregate. a profiled individual. great. i was standing i remember on freakin queen street no less by around gladstone at the time staring at my phone in disbelief at the transmution occuring right before my eyes i knew i was in trouble. the greenbelt expansion had just been previously released and the people that would have understood the land shift were now being targeted for violence. myself as a queer woman seeking refuge from violence under the guise of conceptual art school being arugably more advanced and taught in college versus the schools and groups in manila- only to land in vancouver safe as fuck yo- in retrospect, a year later in 2093 while i was back in manila for a year methamphetamine arrives on the shores of bc following me to my grave.............. tbc:

i know i havent been blogging ive just been really depressed because i found out something about my public identity that isnt true or accurate and it goes back to my issues with public records and the collection of my personal info by foreigners who couldnt understand english or the processing of my data by foreigners who infer my identity and stigmatize me because they think north americans are just on tv and not even human

slots of fics

i made this just now - denim body pillow

denim body pillow

i guess you could use old jeans and your old mishapen pillows just like i did if you ever wanted or needed a longish pillow. so here it is, my body pillow made of super soft stretch denim drawstring skirt by garage (brand) body pillow. for the back part or seat of my sofa.

so squishy i love it. i used two pillows one of them i took apart and folded in half and used batting to make it a solid pillow and just put it right in without fabric - hope that doesnt get loose.

its sewn shut so ill only get to wash it by undoing the edge haha thats ok but i forgot to use the stich that is just one thread so you can pull it and it comes apart... i forgot what its called:::