more thirty second stickers...

i need to buy a finer tipped marker for drawing on these little stickers...

somebody to love...

my parachute dream...

i just remember this one, from a month or two ago. i don't think i wrote about it on here yet. i have fallen out of an airplane. i either don't have a parachute on, or it's not opening. either way, i'm toast. it feels so real. the air is rushing past my face. i see the ground, huge, giant, inescapable, thundering silently up towards me. closer. closer. i am full of fear. closer. a desperate hope thinks that maybe if i can roll out of it i might not die. but no, how can that be possible? i am fear. closer. closer. there is nothing to me but fear. closer. absolute terror. just a few feet away. this is the end...

nothing happens. i fall over on my side as if i had fallen from maybe a foot off the ground. like i stepped off a stool and tripped. i lay there. disbelief. a man approaches. he helps me up. i brush the dust off my pants. i feel, perhaps a slight bruise on my one leg, but that's about it. "are you alright?," he asks me. "yes, i think i'm fine," i reply. i'm shocked. as is he. he saw me fall. i felt me fall. neither one of us can believe i'm alive. "how are you not dead?" "i have no idea." "nothing is broken?" "no, i feel quite alright actually, just a minor bruise is all..." "i can't believe it." "perhaps i should go to the hospital, to get looked at, you know, just to be sure."

completely unharmed. i survived. the worst horror i could ever imagine, and all i got was dirty. live on i say. or, rather, live on it seems to say to me. the morning of this dream, i felt no fear. death to me was falling off a chair...

londonhiphop.net interview...

new interview up at londonhiphop.net. word.

tell me something i don't know...

listen to this song three times in a row and tell me it's not the best song ever...

Tell me something I don't know
Cos' these streets ain't paved with gold
but vanity won't release me

If I learn to crash this plane
Oh baby believe me, I'll go down in flames
Just don't leave home on these words

Because every town I pass through keeps reminding me o' plans we used to share
So long fools

No one ever chews off leg
To escape with no hint of regret
But I know what you're thinking

Problems follow like a parade
They walk through walls... never learn to wait
I said, just don't leave home on these words

Because every town I pass through keeps reminding me o' plans we used to share

Because every word will pass for miles
And follow you like teenage virginity
So long fools

Ooh
On and on and on and on...

Because every town I pass through keeps reminding me o' plans we used to share
So long fools

my vancouver heroin dream...

i'm in vancouver. walking around for what feels like forever. lost. supposed to meet some people. on my way to a studio session. find the homies. in a car. backseat. have no idea where we're going. seeing junkies everywhere. people are high. we're in the heroin part of town now. dudes in the car are talking about it. hipping me to it. now we're at the studio. it's on the third floor of a house. narrow staircase going up. people in the house are stoned. everyone is high. i'm like "shit, what's going on?" why am i here? in the studio up top. maybe a half a dozen people. red 1 is there. you know, dude from the rascalz. i guess we're doing a track together. he's telling me how hard it is out here with all the people hooked on smack. then he pulls out a syringe and attaches this little piece to the needle end of it. it looks like one of those tiny pencil leads for a mechanical pencil. he pokes it into his forearm loads it in, saying "i'm not hooked, i'm just a little bit thirsty is all..." i decide to get the fuck out of here, everybody is shooting up in this house. i tell the cats that i am just going to the store and leave the house. as i'm going down the stairs, i see a woman on the second floor of the house. sitting on a couch. shooting up. i get outside, and have no idea where i am. everyone i see is fucked up. then suddenly i recognize where i am. i am in london. on richmond st. next thing i know i am sitting at a table in a little park. ***** is across from me. we're talking. having coffee. there are two men at the table beside us. older men. playing chess. i hear music. rock & roll. loud. 80's hard rock styles. i look up and see moka walking along the sidewalk, holding a little portable radio. he looks over. waves. smiles. says "i'll see you in a couple of weeks" without saying anything, and keeps cruising. ***** and i sit there. drinking our coffees. enjoying a beautiful day...

vroom shalack vroom...

it's amazing in life how we are shown, over and over again, that the simple things are the most pleasing to the soul. showing up at your brother's place with a tray of tim horton's coffees and timbits and oj for the nephew (he got upset the last time i brought over tim horton's and didn't bring him anything) and pushing your nephew around the house in a cardboard box "go-kart" while he wears his dad's motorcycle helmet and makes engine noises... well, yeah, it doesn't get any better than that.

30 second stickers...