northern belle bar on dundas west:
woman cheersing someone on the other end of a facetime call with a dirty martini. she sips and says “disgusting, i love it”
Blog
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no woman
i love acting like everyone was obsessed with something at the exact same time i was, like everyone on earth shared the universal experience of “being obsessed with no woman by whitney in the summer of 2016”. something about it really resonated with closeted jesse i can tell you that much.
ive been privileged enough to have access to a ceramics studio lately and every time im there working i think about this legendary wisdom from willem dafoe. try to make a bad painting. try to act lousy in that scene. western culture is so fixated on perfection, symmetry. this has infiltrated my brain for far too long. im focusing on acting against the unattainable pull of precision. perfection is both boring and an affront to god.
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just what i needed
watched the toronto maple leafs whiff what should’ve been a first round sweep at the chain sports bar at the end of my street the other night. texted heather about being alone in crowded places and how cozy it is. i love eavesdropping i love listening to strangers’ conversations. i love everyone’s horrible little ontario accents.
these notes brought to you by the taurus new moon. hold your ground but flow with it. venus is writing you a love letter.
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did both viagra boys and chat pile release new albums today?
no, Live at Roadburn 2023 dropped a week ago, but still!
let’s fucking go
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~venus, baby~
yesterday venus entered libra, one of two signs she rules. and on venus’s day, no less. it was green and balmy here on the bay and i was feeling incredibly venusian as i am ruled by venus myself. so, here is an incomplete list of things that fill me with delicious venus energy:
- strawberry matcha lemonade
- having a cocktail made for you
- al fresco dining
- the album art for heaven or las vegas
- freshly washed bedding
- two rabbits tucked close together in the pre-dawn haze
- sunset
- eating a sandwich on the beach
- rolling joints (cannabis in general, and all its accessories)
- glazed pottery
- vintage tee shirts
- swimming
- orgasms (sex is martian but orgasms are definitely venusian)
- arboretums
- baby animals
- 90s rom-coms
- dappled light
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it’s like trying to start a fire with matches in the snow
every so often i’ll hear a song that pulls out some tender, shielded emotion from the depths of my craggy heart and it’s all i can do to not listen to it on repeat until i suck out every drop of resonance. i don’t even listen to that much big thief but twice now i’ve gotten hung up on one of their songs. both paul and vampire empire felt like a mirror held up to very private parts of myself. one of my favorite ways to digest these kinds of songs when i find them is to memorize them and to teach myself how to sing them. i’m barely musically trained (does band camp and high school musical theatre count?) but i love to sing to myself, most often in my car. in my mid twenties, my friends and i gathered weekly for karaoke night at a neighborhood bar and it was often the highlight of my week. the way singing massages your vagus nerve and the community of singing together while drinking were intoxicating to me.
i have been applying topical testosterone gel to myself for the past year. the experience of changing my body chemically has been fascinating, disturbing, and honestly! really fun. i love to be my own science project. drugs fascinate me. i want to know what kinds of little magic tricks are hidden inside my flesh and in what ways i can coax them out. the effects of testosterone have been affirming in a thousand little ways, but the way it is altering my voice is unexpectedly challenging. i thought that your voice “drops” overnight, or maybe over the course of a month. informed consent is a double-edged sword that i am grateful for but there was no professional offering me guidance on this. my voice has a mind of its own. there is a register i once comfortably occupied that has dropped out entirely, but because i had resided there for the past 20 years or so, i unconsciously still attempt to remain there. i am still waiting for it to “settle” if that is a thing that happens. knowing plenty of cis men i assume it does. but my singing voice is shot. i was a comfortable alto. i am now lost in a sea of unfamiliar range.
so when i find a song that strikes that deep emotional core of me, that translates my confused little thoughts into poetry- what do i do with it now? how do i digest it? burning it out in a loop thru my headphones and into my skull does not hit the same. i have to embody it and force it out thru my mouth. i know i will find my voice and i know i will sing again. but while i wait i do ache for it to return.
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i dont know what any of these words mean
and im scared.
more to come soon. until then,
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Bong Furby
Have a nice bonged furby. $75.
