equivocality » Thoughts

Protected: from here

Jeff — Tue, 01 May 2012 10:48:49 +0000

Protected: fault lines

Jeff — Tue, 24 Apr 2012 17:25:01 +0000

little victories

Jeff — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 05:06:16 +0000

Remember when I used to write about everything? When there were a million distractions to keep me warm, and all the lyrics captured a moment I never wanted to forget. The changing seasons, the goosebumps beneath my fingers, the taste of affection; it all lived on in my songs, and I wanted nothing more than to put it all on paper.

I’m trying to get there again. Not with dramatic, sweeping changes, but by rebuilding brick by brick. I can make it if I focus on putting one foot in front of the other, living day by day.

So I’ve been cherishing the little victories, cause they all count. And luckily, life is full of them.

© Jeff @ equivocality, 2012. | 3 comments
Post tags: reflection, self-evaluation | Categories: Daily Life, Photos, Thoughts

Protected: quickly in one fluid motion

Jeff — Fri, 06 Apr 2012 01:45:25 +0000

Protected: waiting for deliverance

Jeff — Fri, 30 Mar 2012 03:20:58 +0000

Protected: the time to speak out is long overdue

Jeff — Thu, 29 Mar 2012 00:52:15 +0000

the other side

Jeff — Wed, 21 Mar 2012 22:16:30 +0000

Lila’s been my inspiration lately. Her photos are of such routine subjects, but every frame is more than that moment. There’s something about them that exudes glamour and intimacy, as if her entire life was filled with champagne and Channel.

I asked her what theory she follows, what equipment she uses, expecting to learn some basic technique I’ve somehow missed. Instead, she tells me she doesn’t do or use anything special. She doesn’t even know what she sets for exposure and tone, cause she always plays around and changes them for every photo she takes. A true Taoist when it comes to photography, and a true photographer after my heart.

“best birthday ever.”, “coolest guy on the block”, “he is the one”, “London, I love you”.

One of my favourite subjects is her perfectly-coifed, impeccably-dressed Norwegian boyfriend. Sometimes he’s just lying by the window, and with his shirt off you can make out the fabric creases that have marked his back, revealing that he’s recently turned over on the bed. It makes you wonder what’s happened, or what’s about to happen. These are the details she’s chosen to capture. These things were important enough for her to pick up her camera. There’s such affection under it all, and perhaps that’s why it’s so fascinating to see how the girl looks at the guy.

It’s the same with Aurora’s old entries:

Rolf is sitting a few feet away from me on a Sunday night and we’re about to play Settlers Of Catan online together. He’ll wake me with a kiss in the morning and we’ll drive to work together. I’m full of a tasty new supper that he introduced me to. We’ve just fucked on the floor.

Do I love him? Or do I love this? How big is the difference?

I’ve always wondered what a person would say if she ever wrote about me the way Aurora wrote about him. To see a lover learning and growing, figuring out their life and the world, and discovering what part I play in all of that.

Sometimes I hate the word love

Jeff — Sun, 19 Feb 2012 02:57:41 +0000

cause you speak of it like it’s the answer, when you define yourself by your singledom. It’s a status you try to wear proudly, but how much you talk about your ideal mate only reveals how much you hate being alone.

What you’re looking for is hard to find. That’s your excuse. But your “high standards” are defined by the most petty things, and all those petty things keep holding you back, a hypocrisy that makes you the victim. That’s why your life is filled with part 1s and never any part 2s. Then you talk as if we should be shocked that you’re single, vulnerable, and lonely.

You think love is something one does, instead of something one means. You can see the beauty in a gift, but not the thought behind it. Then you pass off your ideas on love as wisdom and advice, when they’re simply the things you want, cause you don’t have the wisdom to know what you actually need to be in a successful relationship.

It’s the most shallow form of love possible. That’s why I hate the word. Not cause of the way you define it — I don’t judge anyone by their definition of happiness — but because you think it means the same thing I do every time you use it.

And I want to tear it from your throat.

so here we are

Jeff — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 04:58:28 +0000

I realize that every time I write about you, it’s just me saying that the door’s still open and that I’d take you back in a heartbeat with no questions asked, in case you ever came here again and read the words.

It’s hard to believe I’ve regressed this much. I remember when I had to make a conscious effort not to think about you. Every. Single. Day. It’s a ridiculous contradiction, something that becomes impossible as soon as you try. Then I flew to Europe, where I hit my lowest point, cause it didn’t feel right that you weren’t sharing those Paris nights with me. I had to find strength in myself for the sake of my survival, and after that, I didn’t think about you for days, then weeks, then months.

I was free.

In that time, I met another girl. We dated, and we were close, and I genuinely thought we had a future together, and she broke up with me. I don’t think about her at all now. It’s you I go back to again and again. I’ve met other great girls, but you always remain the one that got away. Every ping on my phone makes me wonder if this is the message I’ve been waiting for, cause you’ve thought things over, and you’re ready to start over again. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to end? When true love is proven by the one who always waited faithfully, and that’s what wins her over?

Of course, you never call or write, and I can only guess at why you’re staying away. Is it cause you don’t want to hurt me, or you can’t stand the idea of me, now that I’ve written so much about this unrequited love? Is it cause I was the one who stayed away because I couldn’t deal with what was left of our friendship? Or is there some other reason I haven’t considered and likely don’t want to know?

I made an uneasy peace with myself when I realized how impossible it is to completely give up a person who played such a big role in my life. You’ve become the dividing line in my historical narrative, and my life is now pre or post-Julie. It’s no wonder that I still go back to you, especially in these times when I’ve been feeling so unlucky in love.

I would have thought you were gorgeous in your aviators, and you would have hated the way your hair looked, and I would have been so angry at you for not loving yourself the way I loved you.

But knowing that doesn’t make it any easier. It’s only natural that I care how you’re doing (and I’m still devilishly curious), but I avoid visiting your page or any kind of social media outlet you have, for fear that I’ll see a photo of you embracing a significant other, and spontaneously combust. I even avoid my own photos, because each one can take me back to a specific day when we were together, only to have that moment taken away from me again when I realize how long ago it was.

So here we are. Living in the same city, but worlds away.

coming up for air

Jeff — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 04:21:47 +0000

I didn’t know I needed a weekend like this to feel again. To dance in those little moments between brushing your teeth and getting into bed. To pass on the right and speed away to a chorus that grows louder with every shadow cast by every street lamp.

I can’t say it’s been due to any one thing. There’s just so much that seems to be happening lately. The days pass faster than ever, and I’m left wondering where life will take me next, cause I’m always surprised by every new friend and unexpected experience.

Wild boar pizza at Tennessy Willems, one of the few wood-burning pizzerias in Ottawa. A combination of boar sausage, caramelized apple, sage, roasted garlic, and sharp cheddar. The sweetness of the apple and the savoury character of the sausage make for an interesting mélange, but the use of cheddar is what really gives this pizza a unique taste.

When I’m drowning in emotion, it feels like I’m perpetually coming out of the water, emptying my stale lungs before taking in as much air as I can again.

This is when every breath is beautiful. A rush of life coming at me.