10:23 Nietzsche

Nietzsche said "We are like shop windows in which we are continually arranged, concealing or illuminating the supposed qualities others ascribe to us - in order to deceive ourselves".

“I want a dog”, my friend blurts out at a coffee shop last night. We are surrounded by friends, most of them with at least a cat or dog in their life, and then as I look around, I see the vultures waiting to decend.

“Paul, dogs are expensive, they chew on furniture, they require a lot of your time, and you have to groom them”, I respond in a supportive, non-judgmental way.

As I’m speaking on of my friends is passing Paul an “adopt a pet” document from the SPCA. My words dissolve, nobody listens, and I see Paul become engrossed in the paper.

“Ok, fine, well I want a pet. How about a cat?”

“Paul, remind me…aren’t you the same person who has banned all the neighborhood cats from entering your house? Aren’t you the same person who claims that cat scratches will give you worms? You can’t even pick one up.” I’m becoming on edge, only because we are moving in together in a month, and I’m not sure if a cat or a dog will benefit my life in anyway.

I want a dog, I really do, but I don’t think I have the time or the patience to own one. I want clean furniture, I do not want to come home and discover Spike chewing on the leg of my table, or dog hairs on the couch. I don’t think it’s going to happen.

“Paul you have to be realistic about this…you told me you don’t even know where you are going to be in six months. You maybe teaching in Japan or headed to England; I’m just wondering how a dog/cat fits into this?” I plan on exhausting this conversation, I want to know a dog or cat isn’t going to mysterious going to appear in my life one day.

“Until you can commit to living in Victoria, or at least the West Coast, you can’t have a pet”, there, that’s that, end of conversation.

I guess I feel like I’m parenting at times. We are the same age and our thought patterns are very different from one another. I approach things cynically, rationally, and I think out situations before I jump into them. I wait a day before I make a big purchase and I check my bank account to ensure it won’t make my life uncomfortable.

Paul jumps. Paul can hit the town on a day of shopping and buy things on sight. I love the guy to no end, but I pray we don’t clash when it comes to responsibility.

I am open to a dog. I am, but I’m not going to let him know that, it would open up too many opportunities to be impulsive. And, I always worry about people with new puppies; there is this stigma that people with new puppies have emotional issues. Whenever I see someone with a new pet, I think, oh no, I hope he’s ok. We all know animals are sometimes used during emotional periods for comfort and security.

I just want to make sure we are both ok before a cute, little puppy comes into our lives. And if I do get a dog it will be from an animal shelter, there are so many dogs out there that need homes, it breaks my heart.

We try but we don't belong

I’m having a hard time getting through Annie Dillard’s “Pilgrim at Tinker’s Creek”. It’s a good read, very descriptive, but I don’t think it’s my style.

The entire book is about Annie living in Tinker’s Creek and taking in the nature around her. She talks about egg casings, bull frogs, spider’s that spin webs, and the passing of the seasons. I’m all about nature, mind you, but I am having a hard time figuring out how this novel won a Pulitzer Prize in literature. I would have given the prize to her other work “Holy the Firm” instead.

The book speaks of human conditioning and our relationship with the Divine. I must admit her prose does wrap you up in the event. Every time I pick up the novel, it takes some time me to get into it, but once I do, I am deeply involved and taken on a journey. And, the references to physics, literature, numerous religious traditions, anthropology, medicine and folklore are astounding.

The book itself was indirectly influenced by a near fatal attack of pneumonia which she was stricken with in 1971. After she recovered, Annie decided she needed to experience life more fully. It’s debatable whether or not spending four seasons in a creek would be “living more”. Life is in the eye of the beholder, I guess.

I had a Tinker’s Creek when I was younger. It was my sanctuary, a place I could go and see the world for what it is, without the confusion of cities, commercialism, crowds; it was my sanity at times. As I get older, I want it again, but I feel the draw of urban life and am conflicted.

I wish there were balance. I wish a city planner like Jane Jacobs could make my dream a reality. Jane is now dead, and a lot of her ideas will be rendered useless, because Mrs. Jacob’s was the driving force and we are a world without leaders now. Our leaders are greedy and power hungry.

“There is a quality even meaner than outright ugliness or disorder, and this meaner quality is the dishonest mask of pretended order, achieved by ignoring or suppressing the real order that is struggling to exist and to be served”

–-Jane Jacobs

"But look what we have built low-income projects that become worse centers of delinquency, vandalism and general social hopelessness than the slums they were supposed to replace. Cultural centers that are unable to support a good bookstore. Civic centers that are avoided by everyone but bums. Promenades that go from no place to nowhere and have no promenaders. Expressways that eviscerate great cities. This is not the rebuilding of cities. This is the sacking of cities."

-- Jane Jacobs

I miss her...

The Coast Line

Even if I'm shouting, even if I'm shouting here inside.
Even if I'm shouting, do you see that I'm wanting,
that I want to be so,
bright,
bright,
bright as yellow,
warm as yellow.

It's over the hump day at the company. Today, because of a 5KM Cops for Cancer run last week, we are having a Salmon BBQ. I do realize I have sold out to Corporate Canada, but I really like Salmon. Is it wrong for me to get excited about these things?

They say 30 is the age in which you cannot be trusted. It was coined in the 60's during the revolution (AKA Hippy Movement); the premise was when you hit 30, you are no longer free-thinking, and you have sided with the man.

In today’s age, I'd say it's now 40 or even later, people are no longer turning to the man after a quarter of a century of living. Have I sold out to Corporate Canada? Am I now one with the man after 27 years of living? I really hope not.

I still think of myself as the "Carney in the coal mine", I will expose all social dysfunctions and feel like I'm a contributing member that doesn't conform. Yes, I will be eating the Salmon and veggie dogs, but I assure you I won't be making small talk, I will be real, and the company will be secondary to my need to get to know people on a more personal level.

I was inspired by another blog to come up with a really fetching catch phrase or slang. I'm rooting it over in my head...and I have ascertained that all the good ones are taken. Wicked, Cool, Sweet, That's Hot, Eat me...I need something that'll raise eyebrows and be used day to day.

Maybe I'll just bring back the high five; people didn't really give it an honest effort. I think if the right people were high fiving, it would be cool.

Architecture

The Fall is here

Heaven holds a sense of wonder...

The Fall/Winter is coming. Our fall is winter…yeah. Anyway, I was at the coffee shop tonight after working, then working out for close to two hours; I wonder where I’m going with my life.

Yeah, so the coffee store. As I was biking down Cook Street I see Diana, and she yells for me to come over. I quickly veer my bike over and catch up to her.

We head down the coffee store only to meet Michael, another acquaintance. I am amazed that in the short period of four years…I finally am able to recognize people on the street and form relationships. We talk, we make jokes, and after a couple of hours at the coffee shop, we head to smoke a joint.

Now, mind you, I’m not a drug smoker. Two puffs of a joint and I’m completely high – in a manageable state, but stoned nonetheless.

We talk about the coming fall. We talk about why it’s so enthralling to be in such a beautiful place as Victoria, how lucky we are, and how we handle the winter. I have to give you some background first. In Newfoundland, as much as it snows, we can see the stars on winter nights, the days still have Sunshine, and the only thing that stops living is the snow, which is unbearable at times.

In Victoria it’s different. It rains, the sky disappears, I can’t explain why we are sometimes covered by clouds for weeks on end, or how I wonder if the Sun will ever shine again; I can’t tell you how many times I have woke in the morning only to see it pour, and to see the clouds so low to the ground, almost to the point of making me claustrophobic. That’s how we feel. That’s why I need to head away and find places where I can see the sky again.

There is an upside, a beautiful and agreeable one. The fall helps us to gather ourselves back together. I lose myself in the summer, in the weather, the beaches, the biking, hiking…and everyone else around me is active. It’s a time when I forget everything. In the winter, I regroup, recharge, I start to reorganize my life and take care of myself again. I get to write, to think, to once again feel as if I’m completely involved in my domestic and personal lives. In the winter, I am now focused.

We talk about these things, and we all agree we are lower, and we lose apart of ourselves, or do we just feel human again? I don’t look at it as a stale time. I think positively about the upcoming season. And I also see a different side to these two people. They are complex and somewhat unhappy beings.

The more people I get to know, the more I think, am I one of the few happy people out there? I mean, I have my bouts of problematic thoughts or situations, but really, deep down inside, I am content and happy. And saying it just validates it more.

I do want a boyfriend though…

Something that's never been done

Shorts, originally uploaded by copeseticnature.

I'm a coldplay junkie today.

Oh brother I can't get through...
I've been trying hard to reach you cause I don't know what to do
Oh brother I can't believe it's true
I'm so scared about the future and I want to talk to you.

Are you lost or incomplete?

I'm going to stop there. As great as coldplay's music is, the lyrics are fucking awlful. Whatever happen to great lyrics? "You can climb a ladder up to the sea...". I cringe everything I listen to the lyrics, although the Thin White Duke Remix is pretty amazing.

The song speaks of wants and needs. Although ineffective, I can see a lot of teenagers hugging into their pillows, dreaming of a world outside of the norm they are bought up in -- tears and the periods...yeah.

I think my friend was right when he describe coldplay...two types of people like his music...troubled 13 year old teenage girls and homos.

There is this gardener doing landscaping on our company grounds today. Lets just say I really don't need to see it today. He's a walking sex machine; hairy legs, redneck tendancies, in shape, well tanned, and I'm sure he's a lawn mower: No fair!

I was bold enough to flirt as my lunch crew walked by...

Smile on his face

He’s got a rose in his smile
He says he knows and he does

And his mind aches
And his heart breaks
‘Cause he’s silly

Gonna teach him to sin
‘Cause I’m always knowing where he’s been
Livin’ on the wrong side of the tracks
And you know he’s never
Coming back

He’s got a smile like a flower
He looks so fine by the hour

But his mind aches
And his heart breaks
‘Cause he’s silly

Gonna teach him to steal
‘Cause I’m always knowing
How he feels
Livin’ on the wrong side of the tracks
And I know he’s never
Coming back

Nature

"The world is full of creatures that for some reason seem stranger to us than others, and libraries are full of books describing them--hagfish, platypuses, lizardlike pangolins four feet long with bright green lapped scales like umbrella-tree leaves on a bush hut roof, butterflies emerging from anthills, spiderlings wafting through the air clutching tiny silken balloons, horseshoe crabs...the creator creates. Does he stoop, does he speak, does he save, succor, prevail? Maybe. But he creates; he creates everything and anything."

-- Annie Dilliard, Pilgram at Tinkers Creek

I enjoyed taking walks along the shore, along the banks, coast land, and the only road our town had. Most of the time, especially in the summer months, it’s quiet, vast, entrenched, and slow. The lakes were always calm along the single road that made up the seven or eight villages that were slung together. Einstein said “The human mind is not capable of grasping the universe. We are like a little child entering a huge library”, and as I think back to these times and agree. I see so little of nature, only bits and pieces, with life working it’s intricacies in the background.

One day on a trek along one of the small lakes that we boast are pure and clean; I hear a splash. Normally you heard birds chirping, the sound of the wind brushing against trees and leaves, the occasion call of an animal, but a splash was something different. As I look into the lake, I see a ripple, it’s small and I know that the object that made this splash couldn’t be that big. Then another splash makes me jump, as I peer out past the cloud of black flies in my vision, I see what’s finally happening. The trout are jumping out of the water to catch the mess of flies that have infested our neighborhood.

These beautifully flecked species, glinting in the lowering sun are making their way of the lake to feast, and unbeknownst to me, it was a common occurrence. Suddenly the whole lake is alive with splashes, clouds of flies hang over the puddles, and now I get it. Quoting Frank Lloyd Wright, I believe in God, only I spell it Nature.

Some of the happiest times in my life, and the most isolating, was when I made these treks around the small community I grew up in. I was surrounded by nothing and everything at the same time. There were days when I was hiking up the marsh only to find a litter of wild kittens, with their ferocious mother, crouched, knowing full well she has to fight for her kittens. All we see are domesticated cats; it’s rare to meet others who have seen such sights. Upon finding the cats, I ran back to my dad and told him and all he said was “leave them alone, let them find their own lives”. Sometimes it’s better to leave nature alone, let the life around us have free will. Who are we to takes these wild cats out of nature, the place where they belong.

Other times while swimming in Business Pond with my dog Reno and friends there would be beavers allowing along by our sides. My father would never scream at us and tell us to the leave the lake, he would only say don’t get to close. Even Reno, our dog, would be respectful of the animals. A beaver, I’m told, are found to be gentle; there is even an Indian word for “beaver-like” which means “affable”. Their tails would always crack the water and their stride was amazing. Even though they are a very dense creature they are able to rake through the water at a very surprising speed.

I miss Newfoundland.

Short Shorts

I think the last few entires have been way too serious. I just want to show everyone I'm not a complete turd.

I did this on a dare to myself while visiting Montreal.

Morality

“Look, I don’t want to talk about it. It’s done. Finished! If you bring it up one more time, I swear, I will delete you from MSN”, it’s three days into this news and I have to constantly fend off the nice people in my life.

I think I am a giving person. I think of myself as an open person who is caring and compassionate. If you look at it through the viewpoints of my friends, I have far to go; I'm not afraid.

“I’ve been thinking about this situation I’m in Jake (Mark, Paul, whoever). Initially I was 95 percent sure that I am completely sound and there is no way in hell it can be me”, as I take a drag from a cigarette and let my mind wander even further. ”The more I think about it, the estimate declines and anxiety sets in...”, my words disappear as my eyes lower to my knees.

“I think I’m scared and when I have time on my own to reflect, I keep losing my sanity, it trails behind me, and I grasp for sight, smell, origin; I hate it”.

I think I’m a hopeless romantic that welcomes these monumental events. Otherwise, there would be no purpose, my life would be predictable, and dullness would set in. And now, after one life changing event after another, I wonder if I am strong enough for it anymore.

This is one of the first times in my life that I have let myself be vulnerable to others. The only other time was my ex, he would dismiss whatever emotions I felt. Now I feel as if I can let go. My friends will listen and support me, and the fear of rejection that causes us to be guarded, is waning away.

I have let them in and this time I see that the people in my life do care. I see genuine concern and emotion. I know that I’m in a good place; finally, I have people in my life that love and care about me.

The greatest struggles in life occur when there is a battle, of the mind, body, whatever; I don’t need to define it for you. My struggles occur when I feel my life is put on trial or when I am given a challenge. It could be losing a loved one, or winning the lottery, or in the worst case scenario, having to come to terms with our own mortality.

I don’t live that way. I don’t think about the negative things and I push most problems out in the open so I can pick them apart, so they no longer seem intimidating. But, how do I handle the unknown? How in the hell can I justify this?

My friend once told me there is a lot of good in me. That it would be unfair for me to be giving a restriction on life…and I think about these things and wonder, why not? I am no different than anyone else. I am not special. I am the same as everyone else in the world. If anything, I am more fortunate, which isn’t a good argument for a person in my situation.

So why not me? I can’t answer the question; the next ten days of my life will be retrospective and careful. I will avoid any self-destructive actions and I will pray to my God with every spare minute my life has to offer. I mean, what else can I do?

I won’t bore you with the spiritual rant that I save for people who are fortunate enough to see me drunken and nonsensical. Today is a day of glory. For now, I know that whatever happens to me, I am without fear. I will relish in any struggle thrown at me, and conquer it with the fierceness I am known for. I will not be a victim and I will not let it destroy me.

And, I’m saying this while sitting on Cook Street in a small coffee store, surrounded by cigarettes, idle conversation, and the steady stream of vehicles passing me by. There is an eclectic mix off people as usual, and now, just because, I finally feel normal.

I can see my face getting older. I see the lines, slowly becoming more real, although I have the face of a child, the lines of my forehead are becoming more pronounced, and to the point I know that I am no longer youthful. My eyes change color depending on my mood, depending on the season, and they give far too much away with respect to my emotional well-being.

Adulthood seeps in without warning, my eyes, and my mouth, they are forming lines; it’s because my life has been good. An old buddy of mine said “whatever expressions you use in everyday life will be carried over to your senior years” and I believed him. If I ever see an older person, with a blank face, naked of lines, I’d worry about them. I’d wonder how many times they have smiled, how many times they expressed ire, or angst, I’d wonder if they have even lived at all.

The multitude of emotions any one human could express is staggering. I cling to the good ones, and embellish all the others; no one has ever accused me of being inanimate. And, as I look around, that is what I see, emotions, some more subdued, more quite gregarious, but I am surrounded by expression and am thankful.

I’ll leave you with these thoughts as the Chestnuts fall around me announcing the end of summer, as the blossoms of nearby bushes fall on my table, and one of the last remaining summer nights this year beings in the first inklings of the cold winds ahead.

I want you to know, I will not take my life for granted anymore.

Shades

The Last time...

We had a company event where the booze was flowing and free. Company events are great because a) everyone's guard is down; b) I get to see people in a different light; and c) there is a new coop that is fucking sexy.

Regardless, we took it to the next level and after the get together I met up with some friends on the street and it just got worse. I did something I consider ethically wrong - and his boyfriend would agree - and today and feeling bad about the whole situation.

There are a few things that are in the back of mind this early Saturday morning. One being the disease control center that phoned me asking me to get tested for HIV - it was abrupt and scary, I still don't think I'm over that episode. It turns out someone from my past has contracted the virus and my name was given out.

When I think back to the past year and my past test, I'm OK, I mean, I'm very sure I'm completely healthy, but the thought still lingers in the back of my mind. I don't think I have done anything risky since I had my last set of results back. I should be fine.

Secondly, my grandpa who passed away... Grieving is a funny thing, now I'm starting to wonder about the distance I have put between my family and I am thinking about who I hold dear. It's been close to four years and I need to see them. My life is passing me by at times and without my family, my base, I am nothing.

Third, dating! What can I say? I was turned down for the first time in my life this week...and it hit me hard.

Even when I avoid being busy - I am still busy - and escape from this 'busy' lifestyle is maddeningly impossible.

Passing...

It’s hard living 7,500 Kilometers away from your nearest relative. As independent as I am, as much as I tell people I’m better off without them, I’m not.

My grandfather, who shares my same name, passed away a couple of days ago. When I first heard the news, I simply lashed out; holding on to grudges and refusing to even feel a bit of remorse. This is the same man who didn’t attend my cousin’s funeral when he killed himself. I forever held on to that grudge…until now.

He was funny, smart, and wasted most of his life away drinking. People stole from him, people took advantage of his drunken state of mind, and all he ever did was put up with it. My grandfather wasn’t someone I bragged about, and when people told me how much I was like him, I would cringle and become deeply offended.

Still, he was my grandfather. The one thing I did this week was let go of grudges. I let go of the fact that he wasn’t an ideal grandfather, I have forgiven him for not attending my cousins funeral, and I send home a goodbye for the church to read aloud during service.

I was respectful and I made an effort to look at the positive things.

My grandfather sailed around the world twice; he served in World War II on a navel vessel off the coast of Germany. He became on of the first millionaires in my small town and had a knack for taking advantage of opportunities. He painted, made fantastic blueberry wine, and when he finally sobered up, made great efforts to seek forgiveness.

I didn’t do it until he died, but now he has it.

There are so many funny stories I could tell you, so many pictures I could paint with the whimsical stories surrounding this man, he was a legend and everyone knew his name. I will leave you with the assurance, he was the only person I found intriguing throughout my childhood and it shames me I didn’t spend more time getting to know him.

Death to me is different. I have seen so many pass. I have lost my uncle to a drowning, my grandmother to a botched operation/possible suicide, my first cousin (who I regard as a brother) to suicide, two first cousins who were caught at sea, a classmate from leukemia, and so many more. I no longer mourn, I am totally desensitized to it and I am respectful that it was their time to go. I am sure they are still out there someone, although I can’t saw where or how, but they are, and I will see them all again.

I was happy he passed. No more suffering, no more old age homes, he is now in a better place, with the people he held dear in his life…hopefully sober.

I love you grandpa.