Welcome home.

I know where I am today. That is all.
No. That is not all.
I'm sorry.
I love you, and I'm sorry.
I love you, too, and in your case, I'm not sorry.
This is vague. I think it shows my lack of backbone, too.
I'll get past that someday.

Today is home. I was awake before the bus pulled into the venue garage and out of the bus as soon as I could be, but not before Chris (our tour manager) yelled at me to be back on time. Right now, this second, I'm sitting in my moms living room. It's warm. It smells like home. My niece spit up all over my shoulder and I was home early enough to give my little brother a kiss before he went to write his last final. I love that kid so much. Tomorrow, we're getting sushi. I am pretty stoked.

Shooting for a DVD tonight. I'm nervous.

I never know where I am, and I never know what time it is.

Other than the stage, I don't like to showing off to the public. I don't really like people seeing me. I don't like it when my mistakes are displayed for the world to pick apart piece by piece. This would be obvious to anyone who actually knew all of the things I keep to myself, because 90% of the things I hold close haven't made it into gossip blogs or television screens. I don't like paparazzi. They're there, and sometimes they get at me, but for the most part I'm good at keeping my life to myself.

I fuck up like everyone else does, possibly more. I dig holes that I'm not sure I can get out of. I put faith into the things I believe in, into the feelings I believe in, into the people I believe in. Sometimes it doesn't land me in amazing places. My family are my family, and even though I haven't turned out to be anyone who is particularly worthy of their pride, they still love me nonetheless. My oldest brother and I used to constantly be at each others throats. I learned a few days ago, in a city so close to our home, that being at my brother's throat because he left when I didn't want him to, isn't worth it. Not anymore. I'm not thirteen anymore. I'm not waiting for him to come back from chasing after his own dream. I'm not waiting for him to fail, just so I can have him back. Somewhere along the way, through leaving me at home with the rest of them, by leveling me out, he taught me an important lesson: to chase, and to not give up. I may have been hurt at one point, but now, I understand. I feel like I grew up.

Take a deep breath. Close your eyes. Jump.

I fell asleep, and woke up, to this last night.

Look at this stuff. Isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think my collection's complete? Wouldn't you think I'm the girl, the girl who has everything? Look at this trove, treasures untold, how many wonders can one cavern hold? Looking around here you think, sure, she's got everything. I've got gadgets and gizmos a plenty. I've got whozits and whatzits galore. You want thingamabobs? I've got twenty! But who cares? No big deal. I want more. I wanna be where the people are. I wanna see, wanna see them dancin, walking around on those... What do you call 'em? Oh, feet! Flippin' your fins, you don't get too far. Legs are required for jumping, dancing, strolling along down a... What's that word again? Street. Up where they walk, up where they run, up where they stay all day in the sun, wanderin' free - wish I could be part of that world. What would I give if I could live out of these waters? What would I pay to spend a day warm on the sand? Betcha on land they understand, that they don't reprimand their daughters. Bright young women sick of swimmin, ready to stand. And ready to know what the people know. Ask em my questions and get some answers. What's a fire and why does it, What's the word? Burn? When's it my turn? Wouldn't I love, love to explore that shore up above? Out of the sea, wish I could be part of that world.

I'm dead.

If you're looking for me, I'll be in the World of Warcraft.

why...

...can't life just be like the World of Warcraft? I feel as if I'm about to die. I'd like to be able to get up and find my body afterward.

...

why am i back here?

A week, tonight.

You look so peaceful when you sleep.

I am in decidedly heterosexual love.

Hell-A. Today, you are being much too wonderful to me. Tasty treats and pretty girls are the only two reasons I would ever consider coming back to you. Maybe there's a little Jetta still sitting in a garage somewhere. Probably not. I lost track of the very first love of my life months ago. Rest in peace, Betsy. We had some good times.

I will never lose track of the actual love of my life. His eyes turn to moons when he smiles, and when he wakes up in the morning, his accent is extra thick. Even after several years of knowing him, and several months of living with him in a van, and a bus, and our apartment, I still have trouble understanding him in the mornings. I only know what he is saying in the morning, when he's tired and sometimes cranky, because I know him that well. In the past eight years I have picked up slang I never would have had I not known the boy, the man, who moved in just down the road from my own home. It never fails to amaze me how things come full circle. When I was thirteen, I wanted to kiss him. By the time I was thirteen and a half, the urge had gone away. Now I'm twenty-one, and I can't stop kissing him. The urge came back in London, on a warm and balmy night in late summer. I hope it never goes away. It cannot ever go away. I've spent nearly half my life running to the same person, when others let me down. I've spent just as long sharing good news with him before anyone else. He is my family. He's been my family for years.

This is going to get messy soon, so I'm stopping right here. New music, soon. It's not what you'd expect. It is not Barclay, but I promise, it's got just as much heart. It might want you to dance. Family affairs are in the works. It is going to be a good time, with many playlists and many sleds, and maybe some ice skates.

When we get home in December, I want to go skating in Nathan Phillips Square. I want to see the Swarovski crystal tree in the Eaton Centre. I want to look at the displays in the Hudsons Bay Company windows. I won't get to do a lot of these things, though. Not without a wig, at least.

Hell-A, Christmas isn't Christmas without snow angels, forts and fights. Home is where the heart is.

I love you, Jersey.

I smell and my lungs are burning but this really is the most amazing feeling in the entire world. I missed this. I missed playing with my best friends. I missed the feeling of the bus swaying as I try not to sleep, for fear of some bad accident that will inevitably break my legs, instead of my head. I missed your faces, singing back at me. I missed talking to you. I don't really miss your personal inquiries, but I can handle them, because without you, I would be absolutely nothing.

I do not miss some things in life. Some things, I am glad to be rid of, even. Those words sound harsh, but I don't care. I do not miss feeling guilty because shitty things happened to you. I do not miss feeling helpless. I know now, that there was nothing I could have done. There was never anything I could have done, because there has never been any changing your mind. I'm not sure why talking to him made it easier for me to let go of you, but somehow it did. You don't need me. You're not on your own. The only thing you ever needed me for was to be less. Take the boots. You win.

I'm sorry for some things. I'm sorry that things didn't work out the way we wanted. I'm sorry it was all a very large misunderstanding. I could repeat words that I've already told you, but I won't. I'm just sorry.

And you. I love you. And I love you. I love you, too. My sanity is mostly made up of three parts. Family. Band. Music. You three fall into all of these categories. There is no better way to explain it.

This tour? It's going to be amazing. I hope if you're coming, that you're ready for us. We're going to blow your mind into a million different Barclay shaped pieces.

I threatened to trade you in...

But today, in between being studious, and just being a stud, you saved your older sister. I will miss you every time I step onto the bus without you, but I am glad you are back where you belong. Uncertainty is my forte right now, but the way my pride swells when I think of you is not something I will ever be unsure of. Ma and Pops were right, and I forgot to thank you for taking a chance. Between you, and you, and especially you, I'll be okay. Things will be okay.

Yes, I'd sit and watch you play Oblivion for hours.

When life is this crazy, I miss you more than usual.

Someone said something about unicorns today. I smiled.

it's 2:07am...

and i can't sleep.

there are no more juice boxes in the fridge. tour is soon. i am excited. my mind is running a mile a minute. if i let it run a marathon, i might be able to sleep. i'm tired. i can't stop yawning. i still only sleep in four hour intervals.

i really really want another juice box. i'm considering putting on a sweater and going down the street for more. i know my sanity in the form of my best friend will knock some sense into me. night time is for sleeping. daytime is for keeping your eyes wide open. i don't understand how that applies to this life. it's circumstances are different than most. well. not that different. different enough.

i have been a bad friend lately. and part of me is sorry. part of me isn't. a bigger part of me. the same part is paranoid. the same part is scared. nothing will ever be the same again. those words are sitting on my chest, like a pile of bricks, keeping my lungs from filling properly. but new things aren't so bad. this i know. new things are good. my view of one particular person has changed drastically in recent months. my view of another person has stayed the exact same.

my gut is punching my heart and my heart is punching my gut. gut feelings. hearts beating. my body is a ground for constant battle. one side is winning.

there is a vast panoramic view in front of me. i feel like i can see my future.

it's easy to ignore the unknown. it's easy to write what you know. how exactly do you go about building a home? and how do you go about leaving one?

things are not as easy as i make them look. that has always been my curse. my mama told me not to cry. don't be sad, she said. my daddy was sick but he could still smile. i know somehow he could still open his heart and take on another son.

he made you feel safe, so you could make me feel safe. you make me feel the safest, but the biggest blows come from my own insides.

i am thankful for my family.
i am thankful for music.

you are my family. you are my music.

i'm pretty sure...

rolo mcflurries are god's gift to canada.

it has been ages

There are tons of people out there that blog, and they write some really fantastic ones (Hello, Marc Palmer) and I can't help but wonder... how. You know. I read the myspace blog months after I've last written in it and I really just have kind of a hard time comprehending, I guess. There are literally years worth of entries in that thing by now and everything something new and exciting happens with the band it goes in the myspace blog one way or another, whether I've written it myself or not. But I was looking at it just now and it's all sort of career things, which isn't such a bad thing but personally, when I want to look back on my life I want to look back on more than selling out an arena or having a record. Period. It's not that I'm not happy with my life. (Someone slap me if I ever say that.) It's got more to do with the fact that in the past nine or so months my life has been particularly crazy, and not always just in a professional sense. I have had fights with anyone I could possibly have fights with. I've been in and out of a relationship (that was sort of weird.) and I've discovered parts of people I just... never really knew were there. My little sister is having a baby really soon and I'm afraid it'll happen while the band is off making some appearance, and I won't get to be here and... I really really really want to be here when the newest little Barclay makes his or her appearance into the world. I've spent a long time on the road now, for someone who's just turned 21 years old. I'm not complaining about it. I wouldn't have my life any other way but there's prices that I've paid to be able to have the life I always always always wanted to have. I'm not going into it. I don't want this to become a festival of whining. I just... wanted to stop and breathe and remember why I don't need to whine.

I am home. My bed is a comfortable mess and I can hear the rain beating on the windows of my living room. It's cold in here, and that's comforting.

Like I said in one of these before (and I know you guys know about this now) proper Barclay updates at the myspace page and on the website. A whirlwind of excitement is on the rise. I can feel it.

My best friend came to visit...

And this is what I made her sleep to.



I'm (not so) secretly a nerd.

there is a man, he loves me with all of his beard.

i am okay.

Back home.

And I'm already going stir-crazy. I woke up yesterday (maybe the day before?) feeling like there was a pile of bricks on my chest. My phone was dead in my hand and the singing I'd fallen asleep to had turned to silence. It's after two am and I just finished grocery shopping. It's easy to go out when the only person awake to recognize you, and to point out the bags under your eyes is your building's doorman. My inner clock has abandoned it's typical four hour interval rests. Today my eyes were closed for ten. I woke up feeling odd. My mind works harder in dreams. My mind is tired. I don't want to sleep.

How many days until the shows start again?

the world is fucked up.

you're not fucked up. if you were happy... then i'd think you were fucked up.

insert cheesy commentary about my heart being whole here.

Home doesn't quite feel as good as it did a month ago. It's not because the people around here aren't as amazing as they were a month ago, because they are just as, if not more, amazing. It's that home, in terms of my heart and my gut, is missing a couple of pretty important people. On the flip side of things, there are reasons I must be here at the moment. Reasons why it sometimes feels like there's a brick sitting on my chest and I have a little bit of trouble breathing. However, for my own sanity (in the form of privacy) I cannot divulge these details. I, instead, would like to talk about amazing things.



Amazing, like my best friend. I believe everything about this woman is amazing. No, I don't believe. I know. She is amazingly everything. For one, she is amazingly skanky. (Look at that picture!) She is also amazingly hot. (Again, look at that picture!) She is amazingly a lot of things which include, but are not limited to: pretty, loving, understanding, forgiving, smart, talented, amazing itself, gorgeous, adorable and fashionable. She is amazingly passionate, too. In fact, if there was one word I could use to describe Aubrey Sarah Laine, it would be passionate. I like to think we have that in common. Actually, we have a lot in common. I know we don't look like it, but we have a lot not in common, too. Mostly the fact that I enjoy looking at her older brother in a purely sexual manner (okay, it's not always sexual but that's the key point here!) and she does not. I'm pretty sure that's where we draw the line. Back to Aubrey and how everything about her is amazing, even her taste in tit slings. In fact, I am wearing one now. I know she doesn't mind, because half the time she doesn't wear them herself and I am convinced she only buys them for my benefit. I think this for a couple of reasons. One, she doesn't wear them half the time and two, she buys them in my size. Her kiwi's are a little bigger than my mosquito bites. She's a good guesser though. A good educated guesser. See? She's even amazing at taking care of me. And I love her. A lot. Stop gossiping about how we hate each other. It makes me want to cry when you say that shit.

i hate sundays.

You wear your halo well, but your halo's at your ankles, at your ankles with your panties. Your panties are a pot of gold, gold at the end of the rainbow. Be careful how you're seen. You mean so much to me.

Deep breath in, words come out.

Music is my life and no one in the world has ever actually meant more to me than you do. It is a scary thing, I won't lie. But on the completely opposite end of the spectrum it's exhilarating. The thought that I'm not quite sure what I'd ever do without you is, in a word, ridiculous, and I guess... that's what I've been reduced to. I pride myself on not letting my emotions get tangled up in anything but my family, and my music and maybe sometimes, my career. (Yes, the two are, in fact, completely different things.) I can still remember the day we met, and the way I stared at you like I was The Terminator. (This is how I knew you'd be okay meeting the puck blocker.) You asked me to sing a song that was still fresh (The same song still hurts sometimes, on particularly crazy days.) and barely over a month old. Music. I'm pretty sure that's how you got to me, or at least that was the beginning of it. Without music you'd still just be my best friend's (ex-best friend's?) brother, and I'd only be your little sister's friend. You would've just been another in a long line (I'm not proud, for the record.) or maybe you just... wouldn't have been at all. And that thought scares me so much more than the fact that you mean so much to me. I guess it's all entangled and somewhere in there, there is some sense of logic.

I'm stopping, before I lose all direction and this becomes nothing more than a big... whopping mess of nonsensical words. I just wanted to say, you mean the entire world to me.

I'm going to work now.

I wish I could do what you do and write down everything in code, but I can't even stomach that.

It's a Saturday afternoon and I'm not working. What am I doing? Being excited over this.

april fools - i wish.

...i probably deserve this.

Baby girl, I'm coming home to hold your hand.

I already miss you. And you. And especially you.

i am merely a machine...

who feels like kicking a dog in the balls.