Monday, February 27, 2006

Winter


You must learn to stand up for yourself, because I can't always be around.

I'm reading an interesting book about the approaching Dark Age. She's an American author and I find it quite interesting. To think, all of our society could very well approach one again. We have only attested to one Dark Age but there have been numerous ones. Societies have completely disappeared, cultures have dissolved into nothing - and we have no information whatsoever about them.

A Dark Age is a culture's dead end. We in North America and Western Europe, enjoying the benefits of the culture conventionally known as the West, customarily think of a Dark Age as happening once, long ago, following the collapse of the Western Roman Empire. But in North American we live in a graveyard of lost aboriginal cultures, many of which were decisively finished off by mass amnesia in which even the memory of what was lost was also lost. Throughout the world Dark Ages have scrawled finis to successions of cultures receding far into the past. Whatever happened to the culture whose people produced the splendid Lascaux cave paintings some seventeen thousand years ago, in what is now southwestern France? Or the culture of builders of ambitious stone and wood hedges in Western Europe before the Celts arrived with their Iron Age technology and intricately knotted art?

Our Dark Age is approaching some say. There is a tremdendous amount of environmental damage; we have religious wars, fossil fuel issues...not to mention the inevidible collapse of the global economy due to outsourcing, ineptness, and failure to create a working market. I have accepted the defeat of North America and am ready to move on. Already I see parts of Canada changing. We have Newfoundland - my home - changing and already losing its culture due to a 10 year moratorium, where people have moved on to fishing crab, shrimp and other markets as opposed to cod. Already these markets are becoming extinct. Some Newfoundlander's have become complacent, hoping that oil revenues will eventually trickle down, others leave for better lives; the long and short of it is, we will lose our culture. We will lose the ability to fish, to produce salt cod, and will lose our history...

In a couple of decades the way our culture is, will no longer be; changes to the systematic approaches to business, energy management, global policies, and even government will attribute to this…all I can do is sit back and enjoy the ride. My prediction is that North America will be under attack due to the forces that are building up in this day and age. We are not approaching change readily; we are more or less adopting it without planning or analyzing the future. Already the spiral is speeding up, but how can we stop it?

It's a little deep I know, but why not. I can't keep reading fantasy novels, I have to branch out. Before this particular book, I read a David Sedaris novel called Naked. My friend Jacob gave me an autographed copy...I guess he had two. It was very funny and entertaining, and it's a satirical look at his life growing up in the US as both a homosexual and a Greek. Some of it actually reminds me of my childhood.

I'm running out of photos, I will have to get my camera out and charge up the battery, or take a trip...Jesus I would like to take a trip.

Sunday, February 26, 2006

It just goes to show


I have to say one thing, everyone is fucked. I had an awesome Saturday night with my friends Jill, Jason, and Jacob...it has been great. I am loaded though and have to hit the hay. Hopefully I can elaborate on why we are all going to hell in a hand basket tomorrow.
UPDATED:

Monday...

I took a bic razor to my head on Friday. I'm now completely bald and I like it. Initially, I did this as a self-destructive hobby, to no longer make myself as attractive to both opposite and same-sex people. I don't think it worked that well. People still like me, and I received a lot of positive feedback... self-destruction is your internal ability to damage the spiritual essense.

I think you have to shave your head a least once in a lifetime. It's to ensure that if worse comes to worse, you could support a bald head and still hold on to you're general attraction. I am no longer fearful of going bald, it isn't that bad...people didn't turn away in disgust or cover their childrens eyes.

My Saturday night consisted of Matini's with my friend Jill and her group of friends. We went to Milestones where she works and I met the crew of about 20 or so people. My gawd, they have a lot of workers at that restaurant. My friend Jason also works at Milestones along with Jody who is his best friend. He's a good guy, it took me a few months to warm up to him, but am glad I can now consider him a friend. I'm always so weird when I first meet men, sleep with them, than try to salvage some sort of relationship after the fact. But we have hung out a few times, and it's going well. Sometimes I still see the attraction, but try to forget about it, I mean he's not really my type...

Yesterday, waking up hung over, I went for a ride on bike. There is a hot guy smiling at me at the gym...damn him, than another at the coffee store. Damn them all. It started raining, and I was completely cold and soaked by the time I got home. I'm sick of the cold rain. Bring on the summer.

Saturday, February 25, 2006

I don't know


In wanna hold the hand inside you.
I wanna take the breath that's true
I look to you and I see nothing.
I look to you to see the truth

Fade into you.
Strange you never knew.
Fade into you.
I think it's great you never knew.

My ex was out tonight. Jesus, 1.5 years, and still it affects me. He noticed that I arrived with my friend Jacob, and assumed we we're together. I played into it initially...I mean why wouldn't I? This fucker changed my life; not in a bad way, but he really opened my eyes. I feel a loss, not being with him anymore. I talked to him, and initially he had his guard up, and proceeds to say things to hurt me. I ask "How have you been Dennis?” He only replies "Busy, very very busy". I know right away he wants to upset me. Our relationship has now hit a different plateau, a disconnected and uncomfortable friendship.

He tells me that he went to Whistler for a very big gay ski weekend and had a lot of fun, and implied he met some guys. Now, his two friends whom he's had an intimate relationship with are coming up from New York to visit, than he will travel back with them. I know it's because I'm with Jacob and he is hurt seeing us together, so I play into it. I just look at Dennis and reply "Well, good for you" and walk away. It's ok. I feel fine about it. I go over to Jacob, hug him and I guess I'm playing the game also.

After a while I approach him again. I express to him that it hurts to hear about these things, I don't want to know. I don't want him to rub things in my face. We talk for about a half an hour, now having a more meaningful conversation about life; where we are. I want to know if he's happy, and how things are...I mean, how things are really? It's tough, you know, living in a world where you make few intimate connections; where you feel comfortable with someone to the point where nothing matters. I have that with him. I have it and everytime we connect again after bouts of trying not to see one another, I run through the same train wreck of emotions.

He has a sleep disorder, and is on long term disability; something I questioned when I was with him. I just have to accept it and not be the logical person I am. He tells me he isn't getting better, things are worse, and he may have to more somewhere else - maybe even back to Ontario. It's so weird, I feel so much for him, and I want him to be happy. He's the lonely guy, walking alone in life, showing up at the bar by himself. My heart goes out to him - such a sad story really - and I break down. I cry in front of him and express that I only want him to be happy. "I never want to lose our connection Dennis, and no matter what has happened between us, we have to keep this link". I always find the energy between us to be so powerful. It's so important, more than anything else in my life, and I will struggle to keep it.

I think he knows that I only want good things for him, initially he was more guarded and wearisome about the progress we we’re making after the break up. A friendship may not work, but I want something out of this mess we have created. Haha, a mess...funny but true.

The sad, lost, and caring soul inside of me wants to fix his hurts. I realize, it could never work...I tried once...it could never work. I just don't know why I can't believe it.

Friday, February 24, 2006

Everything I touch...


Radiohead(s) said it best, "Everything I touch turns to stone. I am fused, just in case I blow up. I am blue, just in case I crack up...” Amazing lyrics.

It's Friday again. I am surviving my leadership instruction, and now implementing a new program, I have launched myself into the 24 hour replay to be one of the captains. I will concentrate on fundraising, we have a goal of at least 10,000 (I want to raise 20,000!), and it will be a challenge to motivate people once again...but I already see a fire in the hearts of many. I have a feeling it's going to be a high-quality year.

I met a pleasant guy a couple of days ago and he phoned me last night. No matter how attractive someone is, if they aren't intelligent than I'm done. I'm amazed how unintelligent one guy could be...he babbled on for about an hour on the phone about money, situational issues, and just plain crap. His use of diction and general lack of eloquence made me take a step back from the conversation and dream about an ideal world. Most of the time I think that Mr. Right will pop up at the time when I least expect it. He will have the looks of Pierce Bronson and the intelligence and creativity of both Einstein and Michelangelo. Our conversation was painful to say the least, and I couldn't get a word in. I was trying to hide my laughter. The conversation got to the point where I had to interrupt him and say "I'm going to bed". My fantasy has dissolved into a bleeding pit of insanity, and I'm back to the drawing board again.

It's scary to see how some people become so disconnected. How so many people are oblivious to how to the world really works. The reality we live in isn't questioned by this fellow; it's a simple life. I guess dumb people are happier, because they don't have to deal with the complexities that thinking individual have to face. They don't have to think about Kosovo, world economics, the impact of globalization, and the policies of our tyrannical government. When I wake in the mornings I question where the world is headed; how far we have launched our greedy battles so that we inevitably destroy the earth we are living in, and how we can grow this world into a utopia of bliss. It must be nice to get away from that freedom.

Intelligence is defined as that which produces successful behavior. Intelligence is assumed to result from natural selection. A model is proposed that integrates knowledge from research in both natural and artificial systems. Much is unknown about intelligence, and much will remain beyond human comprehension for a very long time. The fundamental nature of intelligence is only dimly understood, and the elements of self consciousness, perception, reason, emotion, and intuition are clocked in mystery that shrouds the human psyche and fades into the religious. Even the definition of intelligence remains a subject of controversy, and so must any theory that attempts to explain what intelligence is, how it originated, or what are the fundamental processes by which it functions.

If you had a choice, would you rather be an intelligent free thinker or an incredibly attractive person? It's tough to really weight the pros and cons of such a situation. Inevitably I think I would rather be a thinker...I'd rather use my brain, see the world through the eyes of someone able to enjoy it to the fullest. I want to educated myself, and am able to grow spiritually in the sense of emotional intelligence and mental perception. There are so many great novels, so many wonderful documentaries, and people who question your entire existence.

I guess to conclude things; it’s never going to be a process I can easily disseminate. It’s a life long learning project, I sometimes make the right decisions, meet the right people, and my faith in mankind is rejuvenated. Other times, I’m screaming at the universe asking why? I’m sorry if this sounds egotistical. I’m just frustrated with the whole dating process. I’m upset that I cannot cope with certain people, and that I am not able to mould myself into what society wants me to be. I will never enjoy an action movie, or be able to read books like “Internet programming for Dummies”, or nod in agreement when someone uses a really big word (I know the word dammit, and if I don’t, I will ask).

I’ll never be like you, don't bother.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Yeah well you suck!


Being in love...means you are completely broken. Then put back together, the one piece that was yours.

Fuck, I have been single for at least two years now. I don't even want to think about how long it's been. Is there something wrong with me? I mean, it's been a while. I've had offers, met some great guys, but none of them do it for me. I think I'm far too cynical, far too picky. I'm not giving them a chance.

I never thought I would compromise
I thrive best hermit style
with a beard and a pipe
and a parrot on each side
but now I can't do this without you
Let's unite tonight
We shouldn't fight
Embrace you tight
Let's unite tonight
One hand allows the other
so much and me
I always revisit this. It seems like every couple of months I go through this same stage. On the brighter side of things, there is someone. I mean, I don't know...he's young, but I've always had my eye out for him. It seems like I work in extremes...either the gay is really old, or he is young. I have been eying him for a while, we make eye contract and flirt...I'm just not sure how it will all pan out.
He said hi to me last night and passed along his number. I'm not sure if I'm confident enough to phone yet, but I will make the effort to get to know him, if he is interested. I'm not sure how to read this guy...

Monday, February 20, 2006

Babies


They are ewey, gooey good.

I am surrounded by families and children. I think society is changing, and the young adult no longer values marriage and procreation. I look to my friends and I see constant marriages and babies. Updates consisting of "Ainsley has six teeth now", or "Josh is crawling", and "my wedding dress is lace". Seriously, who cares? Once you have a kid, life is finito. Over! There's no take backs. I guess in a way, I'd like to experience it also. People think because I'm gay that I cannot have a child. I hate limitations! I think when I hit my thirties and have more financial room; I will adopt a child or find a surrogate mother. Than I too can contribute to a society gone wrong and hopefully raise a kid that's pretty decent and well read.

The facade; the illusion we are living in isn't deteriorating; it's becoming more and more popular. I always though a marriage is a business agreement. It will help me buy a piece of real estate; someone else to plan the dinner party; someone who can share clothes. A marriage of love, something I thought I would have, but now, I guess I have grown far too cynical. I cannot settle for someone I am not totally into, I've had it once, and am still searching for it again. I have realized it doesn't come along very often...so I'd rather not entertain a loveless marriage.

Today I’m meh. I haven’t had a cigarette, projects are coming along, but at the same time I feel utterly disconnected. I don’t know what I’m feeling right now, nor do I want to explore it. I think one major issue is a person on my project who keeps ranting, “we cannot do it in time”. It’s annoying me. I hate hearing the word can’t, and negativity doesn’t motivate me. Luckily she will be away this weekend so we can all prove this chick wrong. Jesus, who wants to hear can’t!

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Fish Plants


My father’s work ethic was incomparable to anyone elses. He would be adamant about my sister and I being self-sufficient people and to stop milking the teat we call father.

By the time I was 13 years old I was both working at the local fish plant doing job shadowing and moonlighting as a bus boy for my father's restaurant. Any night there could be something different and it wasn’t something I looked forward to initially, but I knew dad was proud. I could be butchering crab, working on the sorting lines, packaging, or if worse came to worse clean up.

Now, I must say this wasn’t the place you’d want to work for the rest of your life. The fish plant was full of uneducated; chain smoking, hardcore Newfoundlanders who would never leave the rock – not even this small town for that matter.

It was a living for sure. And, it was pretty good money and we had breaks every hour for 15 minutes. It was at the fish plant where I started smoking, where I learned the ins and outs of life, and where I promised myself I would try has hard as possible in life to get a white color job. Lord knows, this wasn’t the place life was happening. This was the place where people give up and become complacent.

When we had to work mornings, my sister would usually throw a fit. Start crying, complaining that her feet hurt; sometimes her stomach. It got to the point where we realized it wasn’t a physical ailment that affected my year older sister; she just didn’t love the job!

I have witnessed many a fight between my sister and dad in the wee hours of the morning, nothing but screaming and tears, and finally my father either giving up or becoming enraged and sending her off to the fish pits anyway. Once you get there, and start up the monotony, it really wasn’t that bad. I just didn’t think she was really into working for a living.

I had a rubber suit, which was my uncle Larry’s at some point and all the standard gear. My family and I were so cheap I decided to use the hand-me-downs instead of investing in my future at the plant. Mind you the rubber suit didn’t fend off water as well as the standard green ones you could buy at the plant, and also it was bright yellow. If you could imagine, a faggot in a yellow rubber suit, trying to fit into society really stood out at the plant. I didn’t mind though, I mean I always did want to stand out, so when I blinded people with the brilliance of my rubber clothes, it was just one more notch on the belt of being unique. To quote my mother: "fuck 'em all".

“My sonny boy, get out while you can, this isn’t a place for a young go getter like yourself”, an older man who I befriended at the plant would tell me. He would grip my arm so hard to drive the point across. Some knew you see that there was more out there. Some had regrets, and dreams, and longings – but they settle into the same role as anyone else because how can you escape? It’s too late for some.

“When I was your age, my son, I was up on the mainland making a great living. There was tons of beer and women. Those were the times”, he would eye me in such a direct and focused way, and I would be taken aback. It’s rare to find such an awareness in someone so ‘small town’. He just wanted to get me out, wanted me to think about where I was, I can’t hold him against that. It’s like a prison you see, a prison that you can’t escape from. There isn’t a time limit in this place, or 10 year sentence. It’s the rest of your life, unless you plan, scheme, and are brave enough to do something about it.

The best part about the plant was getting off work. My friends and I would rush home, shower up, and head out the local bar. Now, the smell of fish and crab doesn’t wash off. Sometimes it could stay on your skin before a couple of days. This film or layer of fish stench…my father always called it the smell of money, but it certainly didn’t help in picking up a nice girl at the bar. Although that wasn’t necessarily a bad smell after all, I referred to it as the smell of someone indifferent to the opposite sex.

I came from a well off family, yet I was one of the local plant workers, and I enjoyed not depending on my father's handouts, because I know he would only use it against me in the future. There was no giving, it was something that was brought up time and time again - you owe me son. Fuck that, I'd sooner shave a yack.

We’d all head out to the Cozy Corner, the only club in the area. It had one pool table which was in need of an extreme makeover, the standard gamblers who played video lotto in the corner (sometimes I wondered if they ever left), some round tables which were not stable, and a variety of card and dart players. This was my life until I was old enough to leave and explore the world. This was the cubby hole of existence where I accepted it because I had no idea what was out there.

I became a great card player – 500’s, 120’s, cribbage, and at the same time could play any game for a beer, and almost always win – provided my partner was of average intelligence. The local’s enjoyed my company too, unknown as to what I really was, I was accept as being a under intelligent, beer swiveling, card playing monkey – much like the rest of ‘em. If they ever found out I could think, they may have left me for someone else. I had to play down every part of my existence. Nobody likes a smart ass.

“Yes bye, the beer is some good tonight”, Lee would say. My best friend, although I can’t believe people could buy into the dialect. I didn’t talk like that. Why are they doing it? I never did understand how people can just adopt a dialect so against the rules of grammar. He was a strapping young man, tall, blond, good looking…sigh. How did I ever make it out of there alive?

“There are a nice bit of women around tonight, aye bye?”. Need I say more?

Monday, February 13, 2006

My Cousin Jill


My cousin Jill, who is a Jehovah's Witness and has been quoted saying “I loves the bible, it’s my life” - was bit in the face by my aunt’s dog this weekend. I talked to her last night, and she seems fine. Personally, I never did trust that dog.

He always seemed a bit touchy, and even myself – a dog person – couldn’t handle his intensity. He is a husky named Shadow with intense blue eyes - much like my own eyes. Those eyes have actually helped me out a lot when meeting guys, but in the poor dog’s case, it's an argument to help incriminate him. They are not sexy eyes on a dog, but the eyes of a killer.

I talked to her last night; she must be in shock because she isn't too torn up about the incident. She has three bite marks on her face, 15 stitches, and an outlook that is wonderful and grand. She said “don’t worry I’m still beautiful”, giggling away. She had a habit of looking at the bright side of life. I never could relate, I mean hell, I'm an optimistic person, but this is even too much for me. I told her she’s still in shock, this is insane, and my aunt and family must be held accountable. I mean, this is a pretty devastating event, how can she be this positive? That’s Jill though, Mrs. Optimistic, Mrs. Happy…

We had some funny times together when I was a young kid. She was a very excited person, and well, fuck she still is. It was about 2:30 in the morning Newfoundland time and she was still up chatting away last night. She told me that she doesn’t need much sleep, and she’s too energetic. Jill even went to the doctor about it, but he tells her that some people don’t need that much sleep. Maybe God has given her this abundance of energy, who knows.

I can say is it is abnormal if you look at it from my stand point. A thirty year old Jehovah’s Witness, who stays up until 2:30 in the morning chatting online, than only to wake up again at eight bursting with the same amount of energy she has had since even since I could remember. The lord does work in mysterious ways for sure.

I remember her as being the most infuriatingly cheery person I have ever met thus far in my life. My sister and I were very laid back and cynical kids, even as preteens we weren’t that energetic, nor we’re we that happy. We were comparable to the families on the Simpson’s or Arrested Development – where the families would lie around and do nothing, and bitch and moan if they had to get up to switch the television. We would wave our hands for service, and trying our best not to expend too much energy. To be with Jill was quite different than what we were accustomed too. Whether it'd be screaming with joy in Wal-Mart when a lipstick sale was on (God awful colors too); talking a mile a minute about how great life was with God; or some other ridiculous thing. She didn't know when to stop.

Fruit diets, Oprah hair, bible studies, exciting arguments - this was Jill in a nut shell. As kids we would make fun of how happy she was. It wasn't infectious but it was certainly made me happy when I could laugh at her with my friends behind her back. It was one of the few times my sister and other first cousins would have a great laugh – at poor Jill’s expense – piling together to make impressions, role play, or bring up the latest stories that most everyone had not heard. My cousin Nancy had the most fantastic impression, Jesus I need to phone her and ask her about it. I'm grinning just thinking about it. Even after 10 years, it's still fucking hilarious.

I remember once, I was about 9 years old and driving from Grand Falls to Gander, and there was a forest fire. The highway was covered in smoke, and traffic was slowly moving on the trans-Canada highway. There was a lone man on the highway with a handful of puppies. They were black labs and they were crying due to the fact their mother wasn’t around.

My father allowed us to take one – we already had one black lab, so it would be cool to get a friend for Reno. We brought the dog back to Aunt Charity’s and Jill’s home. Charity wasn’t too happy about the situation, but being religious excuses her from being tactful and non-willing. It’s great how easily it was to walk over these guys. Bible thumpers are such push overs.

Jill was very excited to see the dog. Her main mission was to build a doll house like no other to house this nameless pup. She ran around grabbing pieces of cardboard, panties she would cut into curtains, various objects for the living and dining areas. We were excited at first also…a home for the puppy, but as it turns out Jill’s agenda changed. This was now a doll house, and not a home for the black lab. She stayed up until late building this creation and it got to the point where things were going so well, kids could not participate anymore.

It’s not like we wanted to help, to be honest we were kind of tired and bored after an hour of watching our cousin go overboard in her bouts of enthusiasm. I just wanted to watch TV. We left her to her own devices and proceeded to hang out with the rest the family and shutting the door so that we didn't have to see her working on this ridiculous doll house.

As my sister and I flopped around on the couch and watched TV for a couple of hours, a door bursts open with a smiling, reactive, and big haired 13 year old girl just beaming with excitement. Is it normal for a 13 year old girl to build doll houses using panties, crayons, and cardboard? I don’t know. But regardless, it was completed! We would all get to view this stunning creation, including my parents and aunt.

As I went into the room, sized up the house, it was fairly impressive. I mean, there were two stories, windows, walls, different rooms, and lots of colorful curtains and fabrics in pink and flowery patterns – and at the same time I found it unsettling because it was her underwear at some point. We all congratulated her.

My main thought was to wreck the wonderful situation we were experiencing. I mean come on people, it’s a fucking doll house, and do we really give two shits? I get the puppy and bring him over to view the creation. I’m grinning from ear to ear, knowing full well she didn’t want this mutt anywhere near it. I let him go and he proceeds to race toward the house. Tail wagging, and with a speed that could only be compared to my cousins same exuberance. The pup crashes into the doll house, walls tumble, panties fly all over the place, and I hear my cousin Jill screaming in the background. I lose focus, but am only concentrating on the pups enjoyment, and how settled he is in his new home.

Jill started to cry and threw some insults my way, explaining that I was an evil kid and I ruined her creation. She put so much work into this doll house, how could I? I merely looked at her – without changing my emotional state – and asked, wasn’t this for the dog anyway? Her eyes drew together, and she scorned me silently with all the words her religion taught her she couldn’t use, and one phrase popped out of her lips, “You fucker”. She stormed off, being chased by her mother who would not “spare the rod” tonight.

My dad has a look on his face; I think it is sheer concentration. He was trying not to laugh. At the same time he was quite impressed how I could mess up such a trivial situation, I think he was proud of me. You see, we shared the same type of humor. We enjoyed it when happiness could be crushed. Especially when it was of a false, religious nature. He was proud of his boy, and I too went to bed that night with a smile. It was a glorious day indeed, praise be with us all.

We were reminiscing last night about all these funny times we spent together. I haven’t talked to her in four years, and we are just starting to mend the relationship. I thought because of her upbringing, she would be one of the first people to disown me, and condemn me for my actions. But as it turns out, she is one of the most accepting and beautiful people…

I really shouldn’t have dismissed so many people after I came out. I mean, I had no idea what type of reaction she would have, and once again I was wrong. It just goes to show, you never know who's going to be on your side, when your life changes in a dramatic and harsh way. I spent many night hating these people before I even gave them the chance to hate me. It's not the right away to go about living life, if I am claiming to be well adjusted and put together...one more thing to work on Charlie.

I’m happy that the bonds I had as a Newfoundlander are emerging again. She would always ask me:

"So, Charlie do you have a girlfriend yet? You need a girlfriend", wish a greasy grin on her face. I would always suspect she knew and she was ridiculing me. It wasn't the case, I mean she was oblivious, but for me that was my defense mechanism.

I would reply, "No Jill, I don't have a girlfriend, I like variety...I don't want the same chick every night", with a look of defiance and mistrust. She would carefully weight the situation, and dismiss my words only to say, "Well, everyone needs a girlfriend, they'll think you’re weird if you don't have one".

Now, after coming out, she's starting to ask me the same question again, "Charlie, do you have a boyfriend yet?", hehe, now I can take it with a grain of salt, it's not about outing me anymore, or paranoia. I happily respond, "No, most men are pigs", and she agrees.

I need my family more than ever.

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Leadership

A leader has courage. A leader is a person who rules or guides or inspires others. A leader is someone that is honest, and sincere.

I'm in a leadership boot camp at work. It's a program set up in the Software Department to help grow people into leadership roles. This program is over a month long and I have been taking part of the past 2 weeks or so. I am very grateful right now and inspired. I have a team of five other people, and Taner, who is managing this course. Guest speaker's are brought in. Discussions that take us out of our comfort zone is something we have to deal with on a day to day basis. Effective communication, self-assessments, interacting with peers, dealing with conflict, and so on. There are so many things occurring right now.

All I can say is WOW. I'm spending about 10 to 11 hours a day at work now. When I leave it's usually dark, and I have very little time for other after work activities. But, right now I don't care. I'm taking part in something which is changing me, and it's something I really enjoy. Some of the skills we are learning, I'm actually applying. My confidence is growing, and I just feel better overall. It's making me think about the future and what I really want in my career and life.

Taner is a great teacher. My work mates, are now much more. They are peers that I see in a different light, and I'm learning that none of use are really that different when you look at the basic characteristics of a person. And, I'm getting surprised constantly!

I'll keep you posted.

Sunday, February 05, 2006

Still raining


So I always tell him the same thing. "Calm the fuck down, you're over thinking things", attempting eye contact and making sure the point has been brought across. I don't really think my words mean anything. I mean I hear myself speaking, I see people listening, but how much do they really hear? I wonder, what percentage of information is taken in by the recipient of a conversation in the run of the day?

I'm listening to Martha Wainwright yet again. I find her haunting. Her ballads just take you on this trip into her life. I can only imagine some of the scenario's and feel like I'm apart of the trip. "Dude, I mean it, look around you, take it in...Life man, it's far too short to worry about who likes who. I look around and no longer care, you know?”


There's this kid named Ross, and he was in great emotional turmoil because he's being rejected. "It's a part of life. People never really get or find what they want. I always see the situation where one guy is into the other, and rejection. Or, the opposite situation occurs. Or, they both hit it off, but it turns into a stale romance". I guess the whole point I'm trying to make is that, its life dude.

I'm Blabbering on. I could go into a limitless conversation about this, but really what's the point. People perceive life in so many different ways. I mean, I see it differently...I don't carry an ego, I don't have expectations, and when I go out I just want to have a good time. I no longer care about the rest. I'm 27 fucking years old. I've lived a pretty full and interesting life, so if Johnny doesn't like me at the bar, it's a fleeting glimpse into something that never really could be in the first place. Johnny's just not that into you. See where I'm going with this?

Martha once again is singing about being far away. Anyway, as beautiful as her story is...it's not really what I want to hear right now. I don't want to be reminded of loss, or struggle, or pain...I see it around me. Maybe I even experience it at times, God forbid. But I just wish that the turmoil’s in the people I see around me could disappear. They could let go of all these fucking insecurities and guards built up. I blame the community. I'm mad at the community for screwing so many of us up.

The Perishers: The Weekend

You don't know me.
But I'm sitting next to you.
Every morning, on the bus or on the tube.
You look tired, would it help to hear me say:
"don't you worry, Friday's not that far away"!

On the weekends, we try to get our share.
Of excitment, and of fresh air.
Trying to forget, who we're gonna be.
When the alarm rings on Monday morning.

If in the evening, all you do is watch TV.
Cause your too tired of anything else, you're just like me.
Just remember, as you struggle through the day.
Relief awaits you, Fridays not that far away.