Monday, November 13, 2006


I feel weak. My personality, you don't notice it here- I'm tougher writing, much tougher than speaking- is like a soft play doh bloop, squished into different shapes by whoever I'm with. Cynical, thoughtful, eloquent, anxious, eager to please, difficult, responsible, mischievous, sensitive, shy, rebellious, awkward, seductive, tongue tied, outgoing and confident, smart, really fucking dumb. I hate the malleability. It makes me uncertain, who am I when I'm alone? I guess that's the real me. I love shy people, they make me miss confident, I draw them out, it's like an art, careful not to scare the walls back up, warm, silly. I loved my boyfriend because although he made me nervous, as all good potential lovers do, I could be a 5 year old nerd, and he got right into it. Sillyness makes me happy. And usually, girls are so much better at it, guys shy away, afraid cracks will form in the carefully suave veneer. So different boys and girls, in every way. I'm very glad to be a girl. But for an hour, or maybe two, it would be fun to be a boy, to have sex as one. I'd go and find my girlself and seduce real me. Rate my skills in bed. No that's wierd. God, I must be tired.


Blogger The Very Reverend Ace Clemmons, Jr. said...

ha! strange tui, strange!

11:22 AM  
Anonymous mary said...

Not so strange..but then I'm a girl too.

All these different sides Tui..they're what make you own them..many people do not. I think alot more than admit to it would like to own who they really are...but fear..the great equaliser and paralyser stops them in their tracks. So they end up behaving like someone they totally are not.

Congrat's on your 2006 Canadian Blog Awards nomination..I have a post nominated up there as well. Naturally I voted for you...cause in truth you are one of my favs.

Stay well angel


11:33 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

O.k, this is creepy, I admit beforehand.
I had a dream about you Tui... That we were together in London, then a friend of ours very trusted stole our books and disappeared, and then we met again back in Istanbul. I had to run a very steep, dark hill to find you, before that, back in London, you were giving me bags for my stuff, bags too small for all of it. They were ripping etc, and I got lost in the elevator which was supposed to take us back to Istanbul.
Then, we were drinking in a shithole in Istanbul with a couple friends of mine I haven't seen for ages. My bags (your bags) next to me.
I don't know you at all, but that's the dream I had.

6:27 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Very few people are the same on paper compared with face-to-face. That's how it should be.

12:49 AM  
Blogger tui said...

-- you can vote already? ooh... exciting. I will definately send some clicks your way.

You know what would be funny, if we knew each other in real life, maybe even just kinda, someone on your hello and nod route or something- but we had no idea who the other REALLY was. So often addicts are the most unexpected people.

People at work joke about lusting after guys who are heroin addicts, because they're lanky with cheekbones or something. Yesterday one woman I work with teased another about a bruise on her arm, asking when she shot up last. I had just returned from the bathroom, head reeling.

I try to think like that when someone is a total fucker to me. Maybe at home, their child is dying or they endure chemo weekly, or they're victims of abuse. Since highschool, and getting close to people, making friends and learning their lives, I have realized the horror so many people go through. Almost every girlfriend who I talk to intimately, has been raped. One lost her virginity, at 12, to a gang of 6 or 7 guys. One's father hung himself when my friend was two, for some fucked up reason he did it when they were alone together. It took 3 days before my friend was found, playing alone, sitting under his dad's hanging body.

So many stories. Little boys and girls raped for years by neighbours, too scared to tell. I just can't understand how people can enjoy inflicting pain. And especially when someone abused goes on to abuse... shouldn't they know best of all, how much it sucks, how easily a future is ruined. It's a person for fucks sake! Just like you and me. Inside, the feelings and stuff. I wonder if they're even real, or just monster shells, to test us, to see if we break or strengthen. Survival of the fittest, and all that, a cruel psychological weaning process, to ensure our race.

6:14 PM  
Blogger tui said...

That is rad. I'm glad I'm adventuring with you. My own dreams suck, they always feel like I've had it a thousand times before, and it's another dimension that I live in, just as tacit as waking life. But the place and people always change, it's the sense of dread and creepiness that is recurring. Somehow I'm trapped, I know I'm sleeping, but I can't leave the dream world until I'm released. It's so vivid there, It's hard for me to comprehend it's not 'real'- whatever real is...

6:21 PM  
Anonymous Yoshi said...

Hey Tui!

It's Yoshi, (Josh) - I'm really proud of you. Things sound like slowly but surely becoming greener on the other side.

I've been keeping off the gear too, sucking down the methadone instead.

Lifes ok at the moment, quiet, content.

I miss you.

I have a new Hotmail address, or can add me to MSN.


5:48 PM  
Blogger tui said...

Yoshi!! I'm so glad to hear from you. Are you writing in your blog again? I missed you-
Love Tui

1:24 AM  
Blogger Rob said...

Tui, how do you do it? My own life and my blog have collided several times, unpleasantly, and my personal mess keeps making my life worse and worse.

You seem to be able to blog away about anything, and apparently haven't been caught, or had any consequences (that you have told us about anyway). And for all your issues, you seem to be doing alright, or at anyrate better, which is the main thing.

I hope you win the award, you deserve it. Beautiful blog, this.

7:33 PM  

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