Date:	2009-06-25 19:53
Subject:	can't write now, so I'll share
Security:	Public
Mood:	down-cycling

Defeat

* Defeat, my Defeat, my solitude and my aloofness;
* You are dearer to me than a thousand triumphs,
* And sweeter to my heart than all worldglory.
*
* Defeat, my Defeat, my self-knowledge and my defiance,
* Through you I know that I am yet young and swift of foot
* And not to be trapped by withering laurels.
* And in you I have found aloneness
* And the joy of being shunned and scorned.
*
* Defeat, my Defeat, my shining sword and shield,
* In your eyes I have read
* That to be enthroned is to be enslaved,
* And to be understood is to be levelled down,
* And to be grasped is but to reach one's fullness
* And like a ripe fruit to fall and be consumed.
*
* Defeat, my Defeat, my bold companion,
* You shall hear my songs and my cries and my silences,
* And none but you shall speak to me of the beating of wings,
* And urging of seas,
* And of mountains that burn in the night,
* And you alone shall climb my steep and rocky soul.
*
* Defeat, my Defeat, my deathless courage,
* You and I shall laugh together with the storm,
* And together we shall dig graves for all that die in us,
* And we shall stand in the sun with a will,
* And we shall be dangerous.

--Khalil Gibran, The Madman

Date:	2009-06-11 08:47
Subject:	depression, then death
Security:	Public
Mood:	grief

I can't write much, it's still too fresh: Two headless birds, the last just missing. Raccoon. Dug under the fence, a hole smaller than a chick would have needed to get out. This after a week of trying not to kill myself. No choice at all but to go to work.

Will I try again?

The one ripped apart, entrails on the ground, hard-taloned toes limp.

Date:	2009-05-06 23:51
Subject:	acting, forest gardening and...chickens?!
Security:	Public
Mood:	sleepy
Music:	Alice Stuart, "Can't Find No Heaven"

Finally starting to make some progress. I just have the most intense ADD when it comes to projects, so that I can only get 5 trees planted before I go and look for a tool, and end up spending two hours cleaning and organizing the garage. Net result: All trash removed, found some really useful hand-tools, and there's a wooden goose plaque wearing mardi gras beads welcoming people to my house now. Nine of fourteen pawpaws are in the ground, and a 10x10 bed is planted in peas, carrots, two varieties of radish, two varieties of beet, parsley and cilantro. Two or three kinds of flowers. And one broccoli, just for the hell of it.

That was before Carl's art opening, which was at Manndible Cafe in Mann library. Libraries have computers, so in a dull moment, I crept in a found a note from Karrie, stating that her professor had received six chicks in his office as a prank this afternoon (they were apparently placed 15 feet above the floor on his top shelf and chirped noisily as he was on a conference call with other people working on the Mars Rover) and would someone like them? No one thought what would happen to them afterward, so I volunteered to take them, with no information about their age, gender, breed, or anything really.
( cut for cuteness )
Thanks to the online BackYard Chickens forum, I have a hazarded guess that the brown ones are Rhode Island Reds and that they're all about 3 weeks old. Now I just have to build a chicken coop...and hope that some of them are layers!

Also, in my email today I received notice that I've been cast in several roles for the Tompkins County History Center's guided living history tours, most notably the role of Edward Rulloff, which I no doubt got due to my well-polished maniacal laugh. Also George Bowlsby, so-called 'mayor' of Ithaca's Silent City, also known as the Rhineland, the Jungle, and Sodom.

It's a paid gig! My first time being paid to act. Between that and flyering for Garden Gate Delivery, I might actually make a few bucks this month. Delivering flyers is fun work--wish I could do it all the time--I mean, get paid to walk, that's what I've always wanted!

Date:	2009-04-20 00:09
Subject:	truth ...(?)
Security:	Public
Mood:	tired

I think I'm doing this because I can't find anything better to do, not because it's necessarily right.

Planting a garden. Trying to be a massage therapist as a livelihood. Having relationships. All of life.

I need to not be given responsibility over all of the bills at the house. If I do, I will abuse that power to kick one of my roommates out because his style of living doesn't fit the goal of creating a collective. I don't want to be put in that position, but it may yet happen.

I met some musicians on the commons Thursday while trying to meet up with Sarah Rose to play music, and so happened to have my mandolin. They invited me to join them and I played the best I can remember in a long, long time. So much fun--I haven't had fun playing with others in...so long I can't remember. Maybe Olympia. Ran into them again Friday and they helped move compost and mulch for the garden. Failed to really connect with them on a non-musical level, though, and now they're headed back to Lancaster, and I can't expect that to happen again anytime soon.

The compost happened because of Joe, who's involved in the Dacha project, and when he heard I've been waiting three weeks to get this done, immediately stepped in and offered his help. Stephanie was an invaluable third shovel during the morning shift. Just astounded that after so many false starts it suddenly works--I was starting to think that my belief in mutual aid was crazy.

Played at the market Saturday. Again, because it felt like I ought to, not because it was especially fun, though it was, overall.

Today, bicycle day, I raced in an Alley Kat at Cornell, and came in third with both derailleurs out of commission and a chain that kept falling off--won a bottle of champagne. Went looking for ramps with Greg, but found only unopened trillium and trout lily. Sleepy afternoon.

I'm excited about the garden, worried about my seedlings, but also my soul--the heart of my all, where action comes from--that I'm getting weak and just getting by. Perfection takes time, but who am I now?

Date:	2009-04-08 15:00
Subject:	sprouts!
Security:	Public
Mood:	excited

Yesterday, the first few were just poking their heads up through the soil. Today, there are 13, some an inch tall!



Edit, following morning: First tomato sprouts are up! And I've scattered 1500 nettle seeds amongst the frost-heaves along the 'moat'.

True story, dawg.

Date:	2009-03-01 12:55
Subject:	timely
Security:	Public
Mood:	quiet

I walked the paths and back-woods to Forest Home Drive and then up through the Plantations to campus. Saw seven ducks in Fall Creek and something like a turkey-tail mushroom (but growing on a box elder?).

Geese honking. Crows gathering.

Trying to overcome my resistance and really put myself out there as a massage therapist and gardener/permaculture designer--we'll see.

Date:	2009-01-26 23:59
Subject:	quotes
Security:	Public
Mood:	quiet
Music:	Nickel Creek, "Reasons Why"

I must be someone famous, right?

"The city is a graveyard where we bury the living, and walk amidst the tombstones."
(caption to Clover's photo of a graveyard with NY skyline in background--probably won't be used, tho)

"I walk. Swimming is only for summer fun for me. I walk in the woods and dream with the trees."
(conversation with SashaSepia)

Date:	2009-01-25 14:07
Subject:	sexuality, polyamory, romance and double-standards
Security:	Public
Mood:	sad

This is going to be a rather personal entry, and I'm thinking about making it "friends only," but I'll post it publicly first and see what happens. Maybe I'll get to shock my parents!

I've had a number of conversations in the past few months about the social aspects of sexuality, both the effects a sexual relationship has on the individuals involved and the perceptions and reactions of a society that relies largely on an overt 'don't ask, don't tell' policy and less acknowledged but no less active system of gossip and reactionary judgement. I'll save my venting on the harm that hiding our conflicts and imperfections behind a glossy facade does to our ability to learn to resolve conflicts and grow as individuals for another time--although it does touch closely to what I'm going to explore--and instead focus on the relationships themselves.

I was reading this article I received on my 'poly in the media' blog feed, and it triggered a lot of synapses I didn't expect to fire together. I tried to talk to one friend about it, but she was busy, so I'm going to try to write more broadly about what might be more manageable in small, personal doses. The article, for those too lazy to finish it, explores three subcultures in American society and different strategies of sexual agency young women of each group employ, recognizing the strengths and weaknesses of each.

While the article focuses on the goth scene, which I've only had brief flirtations with [beat], I've had a fair amount of interaction with the young contra dance scene and the culture developing there. While I find it important to say that I, and most people I know, would find the idea of going to a contra dance with the idea of meeting someone to hook up with distasteful, I do think that the physically affectionate environment and flirtatious dancing are a fertile bed for all kinds of feelings and actions, including casual sex, serial monogamy, polyamory, life-long friendships and partnerships, communication both good and bad, and hurt feelings over false expectations. At the same time that gender-blending and cuddle puddling are considered fairly normal, some more traditional expectations are maintained. Thus, some people I've been involved with have wanted to keep our liasons discreet, so as not to be seen as easy or slutty. This can get messy when what's wanted out of the relationship isn't made clear and changes of heart aren't talked about: Someone might decide, for instance, that they think I want casual sex, whenever we happen to be in the same place, and that they're alright with that as long as they're not in a monogamous relationship and as long as I don't ruin their chances of attaining that still more-desireable situation. Meanwhile, I might just feel attracted to someone, not specifically want sex but be open to it, and want to get to know the person better, explore what possabilities there are; generally, I don't want sex without a pretty strong emotional connection. I get emotionally involved but respect their desire for discretion, and possibly for a comfortable casual distance which ultimately leads me to feel unwanted. They may also, at some point, develop feelings for me, including a desire to be in a monogamous romantic relationship. This idea is immediately discarded: I am not relationship material, and polyamory is just sleeping around until you find the 'right one,' not a viable long-term model. We drift apart, each thinking it's because the other isn't interested. I'm just sayin', it could happen.

That's one possability; on the other extreme, I have a friend who felt pressured to remain part of a free-love style subculture and ostracized when she didn't want to sleep with people she previously had. This from so-called feminist men who called themselves polyamorous--a title usually associated with respect and communication. Oh, she doesn't come to dances anymore. I don't blame her, but I do miss her.

I've also been involved with a couple of married women, with the full knowledge and consent of their husbands, who also can see other people. I'm not interested in a debate about what marriage is or isn't, but just the fact that I felt the need to write that indicates the point I'm about to make: Open marriages are more likely to be attacked than other polyamorous arrangements, because marriage is a word that carries a lot of cultural baggage. As such, I find it interesting that one of those relationships has been the only one with a person who has said that they don't care what people think and they want to be out in the open about our relationship, partially because there can't be any discussion about cultural norms if people aren't out in the open about not following them.

So where do we even begin with this tangle? I don't fault anyone for anything: For their desires, their fears, their needs. I've certainly made mistakes, too, oh boy, have I. What I do want, though, is for the conversation to be more open. I don't want to feel like I have to downplay my sexuality out of fear that I'll be looked at as a rake or a ladies' man for wanting relationships with and accepting affection from good women, whose choice of partners or lifestyle shouldn't automatically be suspect. Are they sluts? Am I? Does that matter more than how we treat each other and all people? Right now, it seems to me, a person could be considered 'good' for keeping their abusive relationship discreet, while another might be considered 'bad' for allowing others to see the difficulties in a generally healthy relationship (or just for having a nonmonogamous one), a process which could ultimately be beneficial to both those in the relationship--for having outside perspectives--and others who could see or experience a healthy process, something I've witnessed pitifully inrequently. How do we learn any of this when all we get to see are those moments when suppressed tension explodes? I know peope who ascribe to nonviolent communication who thought I didn't care about them when I remained calm during an argument.

I need you, people. I need you as friends, lovers, community. I need your help to grow as a person, and to feel safe and supported. If you want whatever it is I have to give, you have to accept it, ask for it, you have to make your own desires known. Dream big! And tell me...all we have to lose is the patriarchy, cops in the head, and fear of one another...

It is my broken heart which is asking...

Fumbling around in the dark of winter. It's a month past the solstice, but not even halfway to the equinox yet. I am out of joint, out of time with life's music, or just out of music itself; as quiet as a barren windswept field, as orderly as the wind.

I've found myself a place that even my unemployed self can afford. It's cold, even with the woodstove, but it's home. Although someone's kissed me under the eaves already, no one has spent the night, so I'll consider my hermitage unbroken and look towards tomorrow when we'll go out and look for deadfalls along the creek that we can saw and split with handtools while beans simmer on the stove. I eat well, always. You will too, if you join me.

Piecing things together, but not yet whole: Mending my torn backpack, but not certain it will hold yet. Wrote two articles for the Ithaca Zine which were too threatening for the anarchists. Proposed a freeskool class on massage, but didn't find a venue in time, so my first experiment in teaching is delayed. I'm peeling through the layers of business cards and scraps of paper, puzzling out names and numbers and emails of people I've long forgotten or thought I'd lost. Writing letters on actual paper, looking for stamps envelopes addresses il postino! I wrote to Germany via England and wonder if I'll get a response. Oregon remains silent, my books and papers almost certainly lost.

'You have to be broken to be broken open.'

Two trigger point therapists in two days. Trying to not lose track of Heather and Ren now that the silence is broken. Weekend of Eat, Sleep, Capoeira (next year it will be held four days around New Years, best way I can think to spend that silly 'holiday,' though contra dancing this year wasn't half bad) and now have people saying 'vem jogar camara!' from Michigan and New York City. So sore. So good. When we weren't in movement workshops or playing, there were dance workshops and more playing. Samba. Maculelê. I can't remember the last time I was around such a friendly, diverse group of people. The week since getting back has gone by quickly--even Ithaca days cannot be as full as those were. So I ignore the inauguration, listening to Johnny Cash as I clean and hum and dream. Burning the clutter. Spring doesn't even exist; there's only us, there's only this.

Date:	2008-11-08 22:01
Subject:	on writing
Security:	Public
Mood:	cheerful

It worries me a bit that so much of my generation will leave no written legacy behind, no guidebooks for those to follow; just from rambling, narcissistic accounts of daily minutiae. Granted, sometimes I use this intertron thing as a quick reminder to myself, "these events, these synaptic triggers," and granted I've hardly written in my paper journal in months--that worries me, too. Doubtless, an anthropologist would find twitter fascinating (I didn't know what it was until a couple of days ago), but will a ten-year-old be able to find any remnants of culture, experiences, success and failure and paths-less-trodden in this mess of blogs? Would our diaries and journals, published, rouse anger, conjure tears or laughter or the feeling of the very last sunset? Or would they instead be muted somnambular recitals of this accomplishment, that party, those attractive people?

The so-called bigger picture comes in and out of focus depending on my locus, my current point of view. During a dance, all that exists is my partner, the music, other dancers, the feeling of my feet interacting with the rhythm to create intricate syncopies; when I think of the world, I want to blow up most every road, crane, drilling rig and mine; when I think of history I realize how infinite our choices are; when I read that literacy ruins one's ability to absorb oral traditions, I mourn that I may never be a bard. Maybe enough capoeira can heal even that rift.

Professor Graveto got serious at the end of Monday's class about what his class is and isn't: He doesn't take a dime to teach us, he said, and so he doesn't owe us anything--we're responsible for our own learning. Despite those words, he's taught me a number of things in just a few classes which will help me keep from major injury. The style of learning bothers me, though. Some of the motions and notions are so foreign to me that I can't conceive of how to imitate them. My body feels retarded, imbecilically slow, and he spells out for us so much that a Brazilian would just have to absorb. Those of you who know me know that I'm not a club-handed oaf with two left feet, either, but the idea of having to play before a mestre right now makes me feel sick. I know I have to keep at it, if for no other reason than this: I've never done anything like this before in my life.

Date:	2008-11-08 22:00
Subject:	name the permaculture principle
Security:	Public
Mood:	amused

(last three panels)

Date:	2008-11-07 10:09
Subject:	autumn: a time to be close to the dead
Security:	Public
Mood:	moody

I get nostalgic, or some variant on that feeling, this time of year. I get restless. It's not a year-end dying thing, and it's happened for a long, long time, even before I met her. But now that feeling attaches her memory to itself and populates the silent woods of my mind with her ghost. Five years. I never knew what exciting and excruciating adventures life would bring me. I've fought becoming automatic with every breath of my body and still lost something of the spark that can make me express eloquently the structure of my inner and outer cosmos. I don't want to search through the wreckage for something I can salvage, I don't want to tease and torture any idealized story out of the detritus. I just want perspective. Five years, and my life feels unrelated; I was already changing then. Eight years, who is that wretched, willful highschooler who believes that he, and all humanity, are at best a plague or a cancer upon the only mother he can acknowledge? How did he ever come to believe in magic, in human beauty, love without gain or sacrifice?

Wednesday was a crucible for me. Raking leaves all day, breathing in the gas-and-oil-fumes of the leaf blowers, feeling the cold judgement of my coworkers; meeting for the Stone Soup Alley Kat race, the waiting and chatting, riding like a demon through rush-hour traffic, coming in first and finding Delilah as the checkpoint; supper at the Cliff Street house, overwhelmed, adrenaline-high, trying to wind down, and finally being confronted by the two-year-old grudge, who motioned me outside and started his speech with, 'basically, I want to kill you, or at least kick the crap out of you.' I knew he'd be mad, I knew why he'd be mad. He still mistakes me for a sensitive, new-age guy. He thinks that most people find me charming at first, and then realize what an asshole I am. What scares me is I can't be certain he's not right, and I know I don't always treat people as well as I'd like. Just because I can't trust this man doesn't mean he's always wrong.

I want perspective, one I can possibly never gain. I want to see the change through the eyes of the most intimate partner I've had, though I still doubt whether she was able to see my strengths and frailties, my plain thus-ness, without somewhat shaping me into her fantasy, whether her perfect lover or her perfect nemesis. I don't care--it's more than I have now. Maybe I'm just a caricature to her now, but as Nietzsche wrote, "One may sometimes tell a lie, but the grimace that accompanies it tells the truth."

Date:	2008-10-28 13:04
Subject:	"we'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors..."
Security:	Public
Mood:	lonely

I have several rants stored up. Who knows what order they'll come out, but here's number one, inspired by Colin Beavan's blog entry and its follow-up.

Okay people, I'm tired. It's not just the travel anymore, it's not even the difficulty in finding work. I'm tired of hearing people repeat things without becoming more informed and--possibly even?--thinking for themselves. The object of my antipathy today is specifically those people who believe that human beings are a plague upon the Earth, a cancer which reproduces itself while cannibalizing its host.

While I agree that humans in the modern developed world have a tendency to do this, and people in the developing world are trying their darndest to do mimic our consumption, it's an awfully narrow, myopic way of looking at the world, on par with lumping white people together (no Micks or Goldbergs need apply, eh wop?) or talking about gender and sexuality through the lens of only the past seventy years. Yes, I'm talking about history! Despite what popular culture would have us believe, men have worn skirts, the sexual revolution of the 60's wasn't the first or most radical, and the rich have been pitting the poor against one another since a way to accumulate wealth was invented. Not only that, but human beings have a natural tendency to increase tilth (soil fertility) and biodiversity, if the majority of the past 100,000 years are any indication.

Sure, we played a big hand in destroying the megafauna (natural climate change did, too), and the indigenous people of North America destroyed their last horse centuries before the Spanish landed, but I find that somewhat balanced by the intentional use of edge effect to increase food supplies and forage for game animals, and by such techniques as low-temperature bio-char techniques practiced as much as 7000 years ago in South America, producing what is now called terra (or loma) preta. In other words, humans have been altering their surroundings since long before the agricultural revolution, and generally to the advantage of the entire ecosystem.

Look familiar? It's called a Triskel

Mitsu Tomoe - a 'mon' or crest comprised of three 'teardrop' or 'comma' shapes - symbolising
'In' (Japanese equivalent of the Chinese 'Yin'), 'Yo' (Yang) & 'Mu' (No-thing-ness). Also representing,
among other things, the interrelationship between Heaven, Earth & Human(kind)

Date:	2008-10-16 13:07
Subject:	from Jeph Jacques:
Security:	Public
Mood:	amused

Okay time to go yell at the television and drink a beer every time McCain says "maverick." I expect to die of alcohol poisoning. If not, see you tomorrow.

Apparently I'm not the only one with that idea. Hopefully I'm also not the only one who didn't follow through.

Date:	2008-10-02 12:29
Subject:	quick jaunt
Security:	Public
Mood:	cheerful

I'm off to the Northeast Grassroots Community Herbal Convergence for the weekend, followed by a couple of days in Vermont. I should be back in Ithaca by Wednesday night for the Grandmother Council's Men's Gathering. Still seeking work and house.

~M

Date:	2008-07-17 09:41
Subject:	is busy-ness just a distraction
Security:	Public
Mood:	rushing towards my future!

Danced my body apart last night to Neutron Warriors (hot funk)

Itinerary:

Thursday & Friday: Grassroots Festival in T-Burg.
Saturday: Hitch to Seneca Falls where Mary will pick me up and drive us to Plymouth, Mass.
Sunday through next Saturday: Dance Leaders Training at Folk Music Week, Pinewoods Camp (full scholarship w00t!)
next Saturday & Sunday: Falcon Ridge Folk Festival

then: who knows?!

Date:	2008-07-03 03:09
Subject:	two weeks in brief
Security:	Public
Mood:	tired
Music:	June Madrona

Well, two and a half. It's July 3rd, my Independence Day ever since my release from incarceration five years ago.

We left Ashland Saturday afternoon, Jess, Eric, Adriann and I, after I played what amounted to a private show for them, Jen and Co at Evo's. Almost no tips. Ty had called the previous day to let me know I had to get things out of her house because she and Zack are moving to Alaska...guess I'm not the only one who was tired of Ashland. If it weren't for my friends' help, I'd never have been able to get all that done and leave the same day.

Jess expressed feelings for me. She also immediately liked Adri. Eric felt threatened by the emotional closeness and would have preferred it if Jess and I had just had a one night stand. So we talked it out like adults (ha! it can happen!) and concluded nothing but felt better and slept as separate couples, only finding out where the hippie commune in Big Bend was in the morning and parting ways at highway 299. Adriann and I hitched on to 7 miles west of Reno, where a cop told us it was illegal to hitch in the state of Nevada. He left and we got a ride into Reno proper, where no one picked us up for six hours. Finally, Adriann found a fellow who was leaving in the morning for Salt Lake City who gave us his number and told us to call if we hadn't found a ride. Half an hour later, the same cop we'd be stopped by 7 miles away drove by and told us to cut it out before he had to haul us off to jail--we found a rooftop to sleep on and found the fellow in the morning.

Two nights later we'd gotten out to Omaha, where my friend Katie lives. Drew, who'd decided to come all the way to New York with us had to turn back for a job interview, and Katie decided to come with us. Much convoluted double-talk from Adriann about whether this was okay with her, and I concluded that it was when it wasn't and off we went, four truckers in a row, last dropping in Beacon five and a half days to cross the country and next morning arriving at Clearwater for the last day of site crew before the festival. Adri and Katie sort of fell for each other, but some discomfort on Katie's part and yet again there was no triad--the lack of self-awareness and good communication was at times painful to behold, though I really could care less about outcomes. Sometimes I actually felt like one of the luckiest human beings alive, cuddling together with them.
( in new york state )
The next few days and weeks will be interesting: Becky will be coming down for the DIY primitive skills gathering in Hector, which I hear a lot of people will be coming to, and then we'll be going up to her communities (Ness and Birdsfoot) in "way-the-hell-upstate" New York. Meanwhile I'm in touch with a captain who's sailing for Hawaii from San Diego the 12th, in case he loses a crew member, and applying for an Americorps position out of Olympia which would also allow me to live at Delphinia and see Vancouver people pretty often. Also, everyone I meet here is talking about starting intentional communities. This will be an interesting summer indeed.

Love to your mother.

Date:	2008-07-03 02:38
Subject:	I keep on trying to teach people...
Security:	Public
Mood:	exasperated

My boyfriend's got a girlfriend
I think she's kinda cute
I just met her ex-boyfriend
I think I like him too
It's not that hard to follow
I'll spell it out for you
Cause I'm dating him, we're both dating her
and I'm dating the guy that she doesn't date anymore

L-O-V-E love is complicated
R-E-M-E-M-B-E-R when we both just dated
S-E-X you and I used to be so damn protective
Now we're C-O-L-L-E-C-T-I-V-E love collective

She wears a diamond ring
and says she's married
I asked her "how married are you?"
she said "not very..."
I hope it won't be awkward when I see her at the show
cause I dated her when she was married to him
then she got divorced and I'm dating her friend

L-O-V-E love is complicated
R-E-M-E-M-B-E-R when we both just dated
S-E-X you and I used to be so damn protective
Now we're C-O-L-L-E-C-T-I-V-E love collective

Small towns are great for meeting people
and tying them up to your bed
I'm doing laundry every weekend
I got the Ethical Slut read
The sex is great, my belly's achin'
From all of this forbidden fruit

So before we kiss or remove our clothes
There is a list I must disclose
of romantic entanglements, one-night stands
girlfriends, friends with benefit plans
long-term primary, long-distance secondary
tertiary who was married to an ex-cuddle-buddy
spring fling, summer-lover
better half, romantic other
kissing-cousin, pen-pal
codependent booty call
spin-the-bottle, cuddle-puddle
kissing booth [...alma]
sweetheart, best friend
who could [stand a crush or ten]
Santa Cruz, Oakland, Arcata
Eugene and Olympia

L-O-V-E love is complicated
R-E-M-E-M-B-E-R when we both just dated
S-E-X you and I used to be so damn protective
Now we're C-O-L-L-E-C-T-I-V-E love collective

transposed myself...not sure about the parts in brackets, is anyone? You can listen to the track at their myspace. Gotta love Olympia :)