edam emoh

I smiled when I saw this on PostSecret.com six days ago, and thought it was a pity I owned nothing with your handwriting to draw a comparison, and forgot about it. 

And just now, a week later, I was about to fall asleep and suddenly remembered I do have something with your handwriting, and got up from my bed and shuffled through a pile of CDs and found it. They look identical to me. A coincidence, I guess, but they really looked identical.

manic street preacher

 I was waiting to meet someone outside the Eaton Centre in the pouring rain, and there was this man. He was pacing through puddles in his barefeet and had some police crime scene tape wrapped around his head. He was yelling at a bunch of strangers in Dundas Square so my first impression of him was that he was crazy, a Jesus freak or a panhandler at least. The kind you usually avoid making eye contact with. But I did make eye contact with him, and then I couldn't look away.

"I got kicked out of my apartment last night...my landlord didn't pay the hydro... I didn't do anything wrong but I ended up getting kicked out into the street..in this freezing cold and rain, and i had to go to the poorhouse... I'm supposed to have too much dignity to admit that I spent a night at a poorhouse...people judged me, people saw me sitting on the street today and think i'm this or that but they don't know nothing about me...

"God loves you, jesus loves you...that doesn't mean nothing. Who cares if god loves you or not? It's not important. I LOVE YOU. that's what matters...I LOVE YOU. I was on the streets all day and these kids man, these kids came up and gave me their change... "

"It's like this [pulls out these two small curved pieces of cardboard from his pocket, one blue one red and holds them up]. You're looking at these and you're trying to figure out which one is bigger. look up around you at all these signs and bilboards and advertisements... They can sell you an alarm clock in Futureshop for 70 dollars by putting its picture on a bilboard, and you can get the same thing in chinatown for eight bucks..where does all that extra profit go? Yhey're the same thing. It's an illusion. [holds up the pieces of cardboard again and places one over the other]. the red one appreared bigger but they're the same size. You were trusting your eyes instead of what was really there.. but the kids man.... they came up to me and gave me their change. i love the children. have a great day"
and walked off.

the Irish Study of Sexual Health and Relationships

I was browsing in Limerick City Library last week when I came across a hardcopy of The Irish Study of Sexual Health and Relationships, published in 2006 by the Department of Health and Children. It's the biggest ever study to be conducted in Ireland on the topic and I'm surprised I hadn't seen or heard about this before considering I have a thing for statistics [reading them, not remembering them] and also because I'm just plain nosey when it comes to other people's sexual habits.

Anyway, pleased to discover that the whole thing is available online, including a summary here. Stats on how much people know about contraception and STI's, attitudes to casual sex and abortion, ages of first sexual experiences, and how many partners people have had and all that jazz. Interesting stuff, and tells us a lot about the areas in which we need to increase awareness and how important sexual education is! Take a scroll through!

monogamy by the hour

Her head on a pillow and she can smell the shampoo of ten other girls. Her head on a chest and all she can smell is him, him, him. She has learned to love in a way that does not require ownership of another, that is happy to merely exist with another for short periods of time, and it does not matter who he lay with last or who she will lie with next. Only the current moment matters, and for the moment it's just them and she is safe.

A shot in the dark

Old photography books
Maybe two dozen, maybe more
Held together by their collective sense of redundancy
And a bookcase.

A number of years ago
Maybe three dozen, maybe more
These tomes were revered for the knowledge they housed.
Amidst their pages were the tools for mastery
Of a science, of a skill, of an art.
A means to understand and use
Light and lens, f-stops, filters
The importance of duster
Some pages stained with
Hypo-eliminator
And patience.
They knew it all and more.

Memories of weddings, christenings , communions of all sorts
Pornographic shots of dishes for the menu
Snapshots from the picnic, the first day of school, the new puppy
Textbook close ups of cells
Graduation, Light and Shadow 101, her..So many of her.
Flesh and bones, legs spread, hair
You don’t have to be the taker of the photograph
To own it.

They’re useless now,
Out of date.
Kitsch. 
The college library won’t even take them for free.
Soon the old photography books will be retired
To rest in a dark room
And under a film of dust
Their black and white print will yellow.

the one that got away

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