I'm leaving soon!

There’s this slightly irregular wind tonight. I guess it’s the dawning of something we all know is happening: change. From time to time, the massive gale strikes the house, causing the windows to shudder, and the rest of the structures gives, just a little, but not enough to cause any alarm.

In my bedroom, I have a full view full of both of my neighbors. It’s been so long that it almost seems mundane now, that our relationships have grown predictable and stale. Much is life when you stay in one place long enough.

I’m not complaining, I swear.

In less than three weeks I will be heading to Argentina to see my ex. I’m excited for a number of reasons, the primary one being him. I know, we have moved on, I mean, we have no other alternative but to start our lives again, anew, with a vigor that silences any doubts of our choices.

There’s this small voice inside of me that still thinks it might work. It whispers to me to fall in love with Buenos Aires and want nothing more than to live there. I see this new existence, with my ex, who gets back together with me because I am willing to live in the same country with him, without fear. It’s rather romantic when you think about it.

I’m sure it will be different than that, but a man can dream, can he not? The upside is, no matter what the outcome, I am traveling to a new world, an entirely different culture, for 24 days!!! That in itself is enough for me. It’s enough to generate some excitement in my life, again.

I will try and write in my blog when I have a change and upload a picture of two. I will be without a computer so I hope to find one in a café or use Matt’s computer.

Wish me luck!

BA

I write to you know in a world of unknowns. The global economy is taking a dive: Canadians, Americas, and people from all over the world are losing their jobs. There’s a lot of fear mongering right now. There are a lot of people who are unsure about their future. All I can say is: welcome to life.

A lot has changed since I have last updated this blog but a lot has stayed the same, unfortunately.

I fell in love again. Well, I can’t say again because it’s not something that happens to me that often. Maybe the three bout of love since entering this existance. He’s leaving, though. Or he has left. I can’t quite figure out when he is taking the plunge.

He’s going to Buenos Aires to study med school. A dream of his and something in encouraged. I had to let him go so that he could follow his dreams and it saddens me. Even if I wanted to be selfish, I don’t think it would have mattered because this is one of the most determined people that I have met in my lifetime.

I’m heading down myself in April to see him for almost a month. I am thirty now and figured I need to leave the contentent at least once in my life time before I die. My world has changed, my perspective, and hell, I don’t think I’m a kid anymore. For me, it’s time to wake up and live my life as a respectable human being. Matt taught me that.

All I can tell you friends is that it’s time to live. I think I have been afraid of change all this time. I have been holding on to the familiar and predictable because I don’ t think it’s something I had when I was younger. Well, haha, I’m not that kid anymore. I’m ready....
I’ll make sure to take lots of pictures and write my blog while travelling.

XXX

PS I miss you Matt

Anywhere

I remember is standing outside of some foreign hotel, smoking a Marlboro and hoping that it wouldn’t end. The sprinklers of the building are on, and I get a steady steam of water slowly approaching me, and all I can think of is what I’ve lost.

The town is rather tiny: Bozeman, Montana. It has that small town feel. There are neon signs, cars driving around past twelve, liquor stores, and a younger, more rounded, American crowd. The one thing I notice more then anything is the climate. I'm out of the mountains now and it's a bit warmer. I could head out in a light sweater and not have to worry about the cold mountain fronts that come about in the evenings.

I am tempted to light another but instead I head back into the hotel. The lights in the building are dim and there is little to no activity. I walk through about three corridors until I finally find the entrance to the elevator. I head for the second floor.

As I open up my room door, I notice two things. First, how quiet it is, as I see my friend sprawled across the bed, his head is up, and he is making small noises (I grew used to this as the days passed). Second, I notice how much I will miss him. I really value his company, his friendship, and at that point in time I hold back my emotions.

I’m thinking the couch will be a safer place for me. I grab a pillow from the bed and bundle up, but all I can do is look over at him. It’s sad in a way, when you find something so comfortable - so great - and the universe steps in and takes it all way. It just gives me a taste of something, and adds to the struggle, because what else would life be if not for that struggle, it would almost be perfect then, wouldn’t it?

I lay in my newly constructed bed, with my forgein pillow, watching both the light from the bathroom come through a tiny crack, and ofcourse, how it falls onto the bed. I can make out parts of his body. He has a rather nice build when I think about it. I guess it's a rugby player body. His shoulders are wide, with a healthy waste line, and a nice height. You can tell he came from the quintisental American blood line - he came from the same people who helped build this great country, and his body is a sure sign of the toils and struggles of the previous generations. I'm thinking I love every part of him and how he fit so perfectly against me.

The couch isn’t as comfortable as I thought it would be. The material is itchy. It’s that Burberry kind of material that never did sit right with me. Now, I’m snuggling up against it, thinking the alternative would be far more painful but unavoidable. If I am to sleep tonight, I have to bite the bullet and jump back in their with him.

I don’t really deal well with goodbyes, especially when it comes to special friendships, or however else you may classify it. Whenever I have lost people in my life, well, I tend to just go off on my own and digress, maybe even romanticize it and make it feel more Hollywood or epic then it really is. I guess I like to be dramatic. It makes me feel that much more important. It makes my life seem special, or romantic, or however you want to see it.

I have given up on the couch. After thinking, I hoped to just craw into the bed without waking him and sleep peacefully. I don’t really want to look at him anymore. I don’t want to cuddle him. I just want to wake up at 5, with my bags packed and get on the plane. I don't really mean that but it's my headspace right now.

After ten or so days of hanging out, there is a part of my soul that now feels deeply for him. I don’t regret it. In fact, if anything it has made me feel alive again. It has made me realize that it’s not ALL bad in the world of dating, or that there are good, wholesome people out there for me to socialize with, and that there is hope.

It’s the end of a romance. The end of something that would have continued if he lived in the same country, and yeah, I think that is the real kicker in this situation. If we were in the same place who knows how this would progress.

As I craw into the sheets he immediately wakes and turns towards me, wrapping his arms around me - a protector - with a loving grip, with one of the kindest souls. How I could I resist him or his embrace? I give him a light squeeze back and decide that I will sleep in his arms after all. It feels too good to deny myself this one last pleasure.

It’s the eyes and smile that got me when I think about it. When I looked into his blue eyes, I felt nothing but kindness. I felt a gentle presence that I knew would never hurt me. I could be safe with him and that there would be nothing to fear. I think that is going to be the thing that will haunt me the most. Oh that sounded harsh, let me reword that last sentance: I will never forget the way he looked at me or how his smile would brighten my soul.

Thanks.

I'm in Montana right now.

I'm sitting on top of a volcano with a caldera so huge, so massive, that if it blew, the entire park of Yellowstone would be wiped out. There are so many 'thermal events' occurring all around me. Yes, some of them require an hour of driving or more, but once you get there, you are so captivated by this alien landscape that all you can do is take it in.

The colors are amazing. There are lands purged of color, and all that is left are whites, reds, and the results of thermal microbes that kill most everything around them. The trees in these areas are dying, but still, in their death, beauty remains.

Nature has this crazy way of destroying and then re-creating. We are in the pre-destruction phase right now. In a thousand years or so none of it will survive, well, maybe the microbes. Wildlife, ecosystems, ecology, all these subsystems and systems, will no longer exists as we see them now.

This earth maybe old in most parts of the world but the lower crusts are still fighting to reform the upper crusts we live on.

I can feel the Earth below me struggle to hold back the large forces of nature that will someday overtake all types of resistance or friction. I can feel the power behind these events. The park, as subtle as it may look, is full of power. I can't even describe it to you really. It's one of those 'you have to be there' events.

All the while, I'm with some great people who I have met my happenstance. I'm accepted into a world of rangers, park workers, nature enthusiasts, and more notably, a very special person who I have had the privilege to spend my time with.

It's finally time to acknowledge that I am capable of love again.

Standing on the crossroads

I’m covered in these sheets I don’t care too much for.

It’s layer upon layer or color, and then, above all else, there is the taint of red and off-white. They were once vibrant. They were once clean and sleek, without the build up of other materials after so many washes. They were Egyptian and amazing.

I don’t know what happened to all the pleasure. It’s a chore to me now. I feel as if I have to lie in this bed without choice. I have to become apart of the materials, without question, because I have decided to rest here, I have decided to settle.

I become so upset and uncomfortable while resting I have to strip it all off. It’s as if the material itself is corroding me. It can be one of the worst feelings in the world if you are uncomfortable, if you are unsure about your surroundings, if you want out.

It’s not so bad in the summer, though. Half the time I don’t even have to think about it, or my place of rest, because there is so much to do. My mind is occupied with so many outside activities, or visitors, or the sun itself can blind you enough to make you unaware as to what is really going on.

The sheets, well, they are usually on a piled on the ground

The Beach

I’ve taken to going to the beach, surrounded by the like minded with my headphones on, blasting out the noise, the conversations of the people around me. I can’t take listening to ‘them’ anymore; the conversations about nothing, the expressions of want, the gossip, the internalized hatred so many have.

The things I hear are nothing but the ego making itself apparent. The point is proven with every new muse I find, and for that, I understand. I’ve battled with my ego all my life. I know the constant struggle.

I’m not inspired by people anymore; it’s been a while since my peers could do anything but become filler in my past time, or reinforce my need to separate myself from all this damage.

I don’t mean to be raw or harsh, or even superior about it all, but I don’t know, I just don’t feel many connections, or if I do, it derogates into these failures, into people I no longer understand or care to learn from. When I dig deeper, I tend to see too much and then become disappointed.

So yes, human understanding; I understand them plenty. But unfortunately it's viewed through the eyes of a cynic.

I think it’s me getting older. I mean, the older I get, and the more I feel that I need a break. I just need to throw myself into a tank where no stimuli could enter. I could feed off of my thoughts, and sooner or later, just have the nothingness I so long to feel, around me.

I said this in my previous post, but the whole world has been brainwashed by accomplishment. They all want the ‘six figure income’ and the promises of a lifestyle that the illusionary masses have. It’s not my world…

In the distance I can see a ship. There are crates upon crates of cargo containing all the useless things we consume. The ship, wow, it’s a’ long one. I’d say about 10 stories or so in apartment speak. I can’t tell you the furlongs, or whichever way boats are measured for that knowledge is lost to the common man.

The lower part of the ship has a large, light blue strop running parallel to an identical strip of red. The two lines of color span the entire length of the ship. I guess it’s to separate it from people who actually have some history with this vessel, an identifier.

The background… Oh it’s such a beautiful place to life. In the background I see snow capped mountains. I see the Olympic Mountains in all their glory. I see the wall that separates one city from another. I see myself on them at times, watching the view while huddling next to a light fire. There’s beauty in this country. I mean, you won’t find it right away but when you have a mental repositioning, you’ll start seeing things more clearly.

It’s too bad I am surrounded by irony.

I wonder how many people actually take everything in.

Untitled

I never understood commercials. I mean, yeah, I understand how they make money, and how they convince the watching public that this is something they need, for either status or necessity, but why not advertise other things?

Instead of watching the next model of the new BMW sedan, in its cold and calculated approach, in its “this is what will make you live and be noticed” mentality, why not show a commercial about people who do good things?

I’d love to see uplifting messages, or tips on how to be a better person, or good deeds done throughout the world. I wonder how that would change the mindless views attitudes and outlooks. Replace a negative with a positive, and yeah, who knows…. There’s no money to be made, but redemption would be just around the corner.

That’s not our world though. They will stick to the buying, and the owning, and the showing; I wonder how I fit into such a mindless society. How can I wake up each day and pretend that everything is ok, when the reality of it is, I should be protesting on the streets denouncing the evils in the world.

What happened to spirituality? Or the denouncement of the ego? The sins of the flesh? What ever happened to our values?

I tell you; every time I see a new condo go up I become that much more repulsed by the strangers that surround me.

If this society is going to make it, we have to start thinking and living a certain way.

Wars are waged because of greed – sometimes ownership, or profit – it’s rarely fanatical anymore. We are not living in a world of emperors seeking the next conquest; our wars are fought with profit in mind. With the global economy teetering in the balance of who owns what, I think we are starting to see the motivations of our leaders.

So yeah, I feel awful every time I think about it. I’d like to just pack up, sell everything I’ve accumulated over the past five years, besides a few memories and books, and head out to the desert on my own. It would be very “into the wild”; although I don’t think I’d go around shooting animals and stuff. Yet, the world I live in doesn’t accommodate this.

The desert isn’t free anymore. There’s ownership, and permits, and space allotted to the people who abide by these rules. It seems like the world is be compartmentalized and rented out to the highest bidders. I know I’m just being bitter about it all because there’s nothing I can do. I can make my own statement and watch the glazed over looks I get from people who are already too entwined in the ‘systems’ around us. I could watch that, but it would only attribute to my sadness.

I’m going on a journey soon and it's going to be awesome.

You’ll see.

** We get no second chance in this life

Cat Power

I suffer from bouts of romanticism, the kind only an artist wallows in, or a sensitive kid, or a man who has grown into something he no longer recognizes. As I struggle to make ends with being creative, to rip my soul out of this shell and let all see who I truly am, all I can think of are the words that have been already displayed, and taught, and respected – admired, when the only thing I wanted was to create them myself. I am not sure what story I can tell anymore, for all the good ones have already been taken.

Are you writing this all down?

I think my life is this big romance with the unknown and slowly I get closer to it each day

Today’s one of those days, you know, when reflecting is the only thing you have, when you become wish-washy with life and start thinking about the bigger picture(s). It’s when all you see is house after house, person and person, neighbor upon neighbor of sameness, of locality, of all the things you despised when you were younger. And then, you wake up one day and ask the all important question “Why?”

There are some things that you just don’t want to realize, because realizing could very well cause you to see how fucked up everything is. I like the quiet life that ignorance brings me, as I forget about the rest of it, the seedy part of my existence; the parts that make me think I am less of a man.

Oh, the things I have done to be happy. You couldn’t imagine the depths one would go to; you couldn’t even suggest those things to someone considered ‘normal’ and even get an approving reply.

Departure and Worry

Thanks to the world of technology, I am able to remove friends from my life electronically. I removed one today, and because I felt so much power from the action, I decided to remove one more. Now, there is no Facebook trail, no mobile phone numbers, no e-mails or msn history; I am now free and can begin my life anew.

I think it's a new time in my life. I'm letting go of all the bullshit, all the what-ifs. I'm not going to chase after the impossilbe.

To be continued....

Suprise, I'm cynical again

I want to start by telling you I’m not a writer. I don’t have these dreams of one day making it big, being acclaimed and all. I just want to tell a story and hope that some of you have the time to read it.

I always begin in the same way. It’s always the same way. I talk about where I am, what I’m doing, who I hate. I want it to be different this time. I want to have some glorious idea that I can’t stop writing about. Sadly, I don’t think I’ll ever get to that point.

Mortality is slapping me in the face, taunting me, wanting me to just give him and announce to the world, yes, I will die. I’ll die alright, I have enough habits to ensure it will happen, but before I do, I want there to be some big deal, something that will turns heads and say, “Hey, remember that guy Charlie? You do? Or wow, do you remember the time when…”, as I’m six feet under and smiling at my accomplishments.

I’m not there yet, wherever that is. In fact, I’m still struggling with finding the beginning, the gear that gets the machine in motion. Fuck, sometimes I could just scream out of frustration. It’s the unknown that kills me.

Christmas is approaching and all I can do is bite my lip. I mean, I want to contribute but it goes against all of my core beliefs. I want to be like everyone else and mask my contempt of consumerism but I can’t.

I’ve disappointed a lot people because of it. They call me cheap because I have a hard time conforming to the idea of their Christmas. Instead, I chew on my lip and fill myself with anxiety because I can’t go to malls, I can’t be around the drones of people, and it makes me far too anxious.

The whole time I’m there I think about how sad their lives are and how I never want to be one of them. I think about how fat people can get, how spoiled their children can be, whether or not they washed their hands after going to the washroom; I think about fecal matter and traces of urine on every door handle, every item of food being served, on every snot nosed kid who doesn’t even have the decency to turn away and cough.

And you wonder why I hate the masses?

I’ve even tried shopping online. Oh boy, store after store of needless things. I could just pick anything. I mean, that’s all that way, some expression of monetary love, but I can’t even do that. Everything just looks so bland and I hate it. So yeah, I guess it’s another year of being judged for not ‘giving’.

I have a little nephew and a brother who are the only people I’d really shop for. After talking to dad, I find out my brother already is getting an IPOD Nano and a computer for Christmas. I mean, really… why should I even bother getting him more?

My stomach rolls over just thinking about how many thousand will be spent on him. I don’t think I’d feel good about it, to give him one more thing he can throw into his pile. I hope you can see why I find it all so sickening. So I tell him he already has enough.

Brad, my - insert defination of relationship here - suggested I should get carbon credits for my family members.

You can make a cash donation to reduce carbon emissions and put it in someone else’s name. It sounds like a terrific idea. Only, I know they’ll hate me for it. They would think I’m crazy and tell me what a waste it is and only I will see the irony of it all.

For Christmas this year, I think I’ll help save the planet in my family’s name.

About the other night....

“So it’s like that, eh?”

“All this time together and we just part ways?”, as I search for something more. I try to read the unreadable, decipher something that isn’t there anymore. Find the only thing comfortable in my life all over again.

Today is a new day. I am tired from Hot Yoga, intense foods, great books, and a love for doing too much with so little time. I want to say today is glorious but I’d only be fooling myself. I know that everyone else knows how to read me so well - although I think I’m unreadable. I should take a note to fix that problem.

It’s a new day indeed. The sun is shining through the clouds, the rain; oh the down pour. Anyway, it’s shining dammit and the future is shaping itself all around me. The lush nature of living is becoming apparent and I am more then happy to continue on. I am more then happy to start a new path. I swear.

I asked an important question. What is fourteen divided by two? It’s a simple enough answer; you could even blurt it out if you want. It means a bit more to me. Fourteen divide by two is a number I’m not too happy with. It’s a number I approach with cynicism and doubt. It’s a number that has caused me much grief in the past week or so.

Fourteen divided by two is bullshit. How could you put a time on us? Are we that trivial? Seven days to think about whether or not we will spend the last seven days together?

I think you’ve already made up your mind. I think poking “your friend” in the head the other night didn’t help matters much either. Just for the record though, it wasn’t about you. It was my pride being insulted by an opportunitist.

You have no idea what he did. And if you weren’t there with him, I would have done the same thing. Because? You know me. You know I don’t stand for that sort of bullshit. I wanted a night where I didn’t feel bad, and I wouldn’t stop until I got it.

He added me to his MSN and said I should be his friend for his benefit, ha-ha. So I wouldn’t be uncomfortable when I seen him around. Because he met my friend Tino, and Giles, and you; He felt as if I owed him conviviality? And he wanted to ensure I wouldn't tell my friends what kind of person he really is.

I owe him that because he talked about me for the last eight months to not only you, but a number of other people? I'm trying to see the logic, I really am. Why do I owe him anything? I even asked God. And I quote, "God, please help me understand why I should turn the other cheek? I know Jesus did it, but does this apply to todays age? Does it apply to me, and if so, how will it make me a better person?"

He didn't respond, so I'm assuming he's stumped.

I want to tell you, I owe him nothing. And I had reasons for my behavior. God gave me clearance, and I cannot go against the divine. He's lead me true so far, why go against him now?

I'm sorry that was politically incorrect: Why go against him or her now? I feel better now. Don't tell me I'm selfish. I just included half the population in a mere paragraph...

I was never any good at forgiving. In fact, my parents taught me how to be strong, and how to pick up for yourself, and how I should never let people walk over me. From a very early age, people did walk over me. They taunted me. They made fun of my impediment. They took the joy out of my life and turned a sensitive kid into someone who hated the world around him. Why? Because there was no love around me. I let them walk over me for a very long time until I decided I’d rather be happy and proud of myself.

I don't want to hate anymore. I don't want to have these bad feelings. And sometimes, the only way I can feel good is to take the power back. I have to stand tall. Don't you understand? I have to keep the people who think they can use me and let them know it's unacceptable.

I guess the point I’m trying to make is: it wasn’t you. And I do apologize to you for the events that night. It started by me picking up for you. You didn’t even see that and it's another story all together. I went out of my way to pick up for you.

I don’t feel bad about the situation, though. In fact, I felt pretty good when my friends and I walked home. I was like, “Wow, way to go Charlie. Way to stand up for yourself”. It’s not childish. It’s anger. It’s pride. It’s passion. And it's me missing our friendship. Don’t degrade those emotions and blame it on youth, innocence, or lack of wisdom. It was me living!

I think it made me that much closer to personal self-fulfillment.

So long

Tired but I ain't sleeping
Thinking about some sad affair
And why I should be leaving?
Some of these thoughts only seem to take me outta here
These habits are so hard to break and they're so easy to make
These habits are so hard to break and they're so easy to make

Thinking about tomorrow
Tired from all the time I spare
On what I still believe in
When none of my talk ever seems to get me anywhere
These habits are so hard to break and they're so easy to make
These habits are so hard to break and they're so easy to make

So long bye my friend so long
So long, will it ever happen again?
You know that I've been waiting for you
I've been creating for you, so long
You know the light ain't fading from you
Nothing could save me from you, so long

Tired but I ain't dreaming falling into solid air
And why I must be leaving
Or one of these days I'm gonna pull out all my hair
These habits are so hard to break and they're so easy to make
These habits are so hard to break and they're so easy to make

** 2 weeks divided by 2 equals an eternity

I get it

Sometimes you have to lose everything before you realize what is important. I’m thinking about that now, about how I did lose something so close to me, so comfortable, and now after exhausting myself emotionally and mentally, I get it.

I see my faults. The things I didn’t do right, or the thoughts that I had that were unwholesome and never talked about. I see my shortcomings and I am happy to oblige each and everyone of them. I mean, what’s the point of being human otherwise?

I talked to my ex today. I miss him and I want him to know that I would do anything to have him in my life again. We aren't exactly talking but I know he's there for me and vis-versa. It goes both ways.

I tear up thinking about it. I’m one of those people who are so hard on the outside, but deep down inside, I am as human as anyone else.

I had became what I always hated. All the things I judge, I became. If you want the truth of it, I became that way because I’m afraid. I’m afraid of the short period of time I have left – although there is probably is more – and I have been afraid of losing out on an experience or something that could change my life entirely. I try to do, see, experience, and feel as much as possible. I don’t think it will ever be enough and I have to accept it.

I am reminded of the time when I read Tuesdays With Morrie. It’s about an older gentlemen who gets Lou Gehrig’s disease and looks back on his life. A great book although I read it and ridiculed the story the whole way through until the end when he passed. I then cried through the last chapter or so.

Morrie was ok with it ending because he had no regrets. He lived a fulfilled life. He said what he felt, he did what he felt and because of that he had an enriched life surrounded by people who loved him.

The book made me think about whether or not I would react the same way - with no remorse. I feel as if I’d be clawing my way out of the grave. But I'm working on it...

I should have given you a reason to stay.

Songs:Ohia : I've been riding with a ghost

While you was gone you must have done a lot of favors
You've got a whole lot of things I don't think
That you could ever have paid for
While you've been busy crying
About my past mistakes
I've been busy trying to make a change
And now I made a change

I've been riding with the ghost
I've been doing whatever he told me
I've been looking door to door to see
if there was someone who'd hold me
I never met a single one who didn't see through me
None of them could love me if they thought they might lose me
Unless I made a change

See I ain't getting better.
I am only getting behind
I am standing on a crossroad trying to make up my mind
I'm trying to remember how it got so late
Why every night pain comes from a different place
Now something's got to change

I put my foot to the floor
To make up for the miles
I've been losing
See I'm running out of things
I didn't even know I was using
And while you've been busy
Learning how to complain
I've been busy learning
How to make a change
I made it (almost) (again)

I'm not that predictable

It’s that kind of afternoon again, terrifically cold, and no sun out or anything, and you felt like you were sinking every time you left the house, or the office, or wherever it is people congregate.

I do two things this morning. I shake my head because I realize it’s Friday; normally that’s ok, but god, time is whirling around me and passing by so fast that I can only fear that in a year or two: I will be eighty. The second kicker is that I am just realizing this now.

I pack on the layers today. First, jeans, then a t-shirt, a sweater, a scarf, and my black jacket with so many buttons and such a conservative design; one might think I were joining the military or some sort of ah-hoc feminist movement that hasn’t ironed out the “oh, by the way NO MEN ALLOWED” details yet. I am wearing too much black today.

We all need gimmicks.

I hear the muffled sounds of people today, sometimes I have more in-tune with my surroundings, but today I am blissful of my ignorance. I find time passes by quicker when I find something to zone out one. I’m a programmer most of the time so it’s easy to stare into the computer screen, filled with logic and possible areas of improvement, and then focus; minutes turn into hours, then the day is over.

I have these two screens, with various applications opened on them both, music on random, eyes have focused, and my brain constantly churning. Sometimes I find it a bit too bright. Sometimes I wonder how much radiation has passed through my body and whether or not it’s creating or killing the cancers that are at everyone’s backdoor.

I limp out to my car, depending on my knee, or foot, or back, and I may or may not be rushing due to the rain. I may not even think about how life could be so predictable this time of year. Because of the weather you have to compartmentalize your life, otherwise you become listless and susceptible to the ever popular seasonal disorder.

This is how it stands (work is a given Monday to Friday):

Monday is spin class with funny haired guy. It’s insulting I don’t remember his name but he doesn’t know mine either. Besides labels are better when describing strangers to people who may have seen the face but have not caught the name. I think it’s important to label everyone in your world.

Tuesday is gym day. There are far too many hot, straight guys that go to the Y. I need a new gym.

Wednesday is Hot Yoga. After the class I tend to replace a lot of the toxins I have sweat out with new toxins. Then I complain about how Hot Yoga is ruining my back.

Thursday is spin class again. This time it’s with Carey. We all know his name because he’s the only instructor that plays half decent music in the evenings. He’s the reason I started spinning. After the class my roommate and I go grocery shopping and watch America’s Next Top Model. I think after a few years of this show, I am finally getting sick of it. I don’t want to tell Michael for fear I will hurt his feelings. I will still pretend to love it.

Friday is work out day. Then martinis. I worry I am becoming too predictable.

Saturday is Hot Yoga. I tend to go out Saturday nights. It’s one of the few nights were Victoria is alive. I know, I’m getting to old to go out, but hell, I’m single and alive. That’s got to account for something? Please tell me I’m right.

Sunday is open ended and depends on a lot of things.

My life in the winter. I have left the summary of my days rather short. There may be other things happening like a trip away, or baking, or cleaning the toilet. There are a lot of other things I do, but this is a fine example of how things become unsurprising.

I'm fucked

I lost my friend…

What can I say? I can’t communicate. I’m a wreck of a person.

I wish we could dance the same as before, but I don't have it in me anymore

I’m preparing myself for a war.

I woke up this morning to a cold room. My skin is shivering with the thought of getting out of my sheets. I can almost feel my breath. The heaters are off, but not for long. There is a small glimmer of light outside my window, but my optimism fails me as I look out to see the grayness.

“Oh and to be loved”, I sarcastically whisper. “Oh to want glory”. There are no birds singing, none of nature's life scurrying about in the yard.

I frantically put on as many layers as possible before I head to the bathroom. I’m not accustomed to being cold. Well I am, but not in that sense. All the toughness accumulated in my youth has worn off. I have become mush. Weak and livid. Questioning and defiant. I’m looking at the back of my hand again…

And all the while, my God is laughing. I see him in the trees, changing the leaves of the eucalyptus tree in plain site of my window. He’s ravaging the garden, which I once thought was beautiful -- It’s not now, and I wonder if it’s ever been. It’s been depleted by the seasons. By him. Even the bugs can't take anymore of his scrunity.

My neighborhood is waking to the sight of God. He’s shining whatever light he can today into the eyes of his followers. The rest of him is covering the light, in plain sight we see it; a mass of clouds. He’s relentless in his approach. There is no bargaining, nor would I bargain, I have too much pride. I will prove to him I can withstand the onslaught.

He killed my Aunt Rita yesterday and God knows who else.

I understand death but it doesn’t mean I have to like it. I’m assuming she died in her sleep. I have to assume because nobody from my family has had the decency to tell me yet.

She was older and healthy, strong-willed and a caretaker. She died without regret.

The school yard is full of life today. The children are running into the school across from my house. They are clad in winter garb, there arms are flailing with their speed, their anxiousness to get to class on time. The kids range from 5 to 10. Most short, most stupid.

The parents are like zombies. They silently walk with their kid(s), a gait that is almost an acceptance of life lost, their defeatist attitudes, struggling with the lack of freedom and choice. There energy is sad at times. I don’t see the smiles this early in the morning; I see their grief and wanting, and there questioning eyes that sometimes look at me and wondering what my life is like. They are clad in discount clothing, probably from Wal-Mart, because now their looks and physical well-being are overlooked.

“God how I loath denim jackets and bright colored, cottony shirts that just aren't cotton. How I hate the sight of fleece and lulu lemon. This is everything that is wrong with society…”, as I stare at them with disgust. I want to walk up to one of the mothers and slapping and shaking her. “Wake up! The time is now. Free yourself from the clutches of youth. Live again! Make the revolution”. But I can’t. It’s not my life to save.

Oh parents, how I do not envy you. Your protectiveness and self-righteous behaviors that are non to apparent to us lowly beings. Because why? You created life? Pffft. I create life everyday. I change the world around me with a mere sentence and just because I didn’t give birth doesn’t make me any less of a creator. Abomination!

I do appreciate the fact that you have been closer to life then I. I have tasted it, held it, wondering about it…but it’s not for me. I don’t think I can come to terms with it. The fact that, yeah, my life would no longer be focused on myself, and that my fate is now sealed unless a mishap occurred. I can’t give up that easy.

As I wait for my car to warm, and watch the remained of the techno-colored generation that will become the leaders of tomorrow, I get it. I am pledging to be no longer weak. To no longer seek gratification. To whisk myself away from this ungodly pattern of thoughts and free myself from romance.

Breaking up

“I think what you need is a rebound; it would probably speed along the healing processes”, I suggests over some green tea and gin rummy.

I find breaking up hard. You have to see your ex out around, especially if you live in a smaller community, and you have to adapt. It’s strange because you want to move on, but as long as the other person is around, it’s that much harder.

“Why did you have a rebound yet?”, he asks. I know the question well. It’s the sort of question I would ask just to hurt myself, just so I could hear the answer that I envision in my mind. The answer would help me push the other person away.

“No, of course not I answer…” As I shift uneasily in my seat. “I am not even that into sex, and you know how much I detest most gay men.” It’s enough of an answer for him to not press the subject.

“I don’t want anyone right now…”

I like to watch

I watched a mother and her three young kits on Friday night when I staggered home after a night of drinking. It’s amazing. I was in awe of the fact that these beautiful creatures are among us, adapting, in a city of a million plus.

In Vancouver raccoons are apart of the West End. They swim in the ponds that Stanley Park has to offer, they cross streets, they hide in bushes; they could be considered a staple of the downtown area.

They were huddled together with their mother making cooing and chirping noises. I think when a raccoon coos they are content or happy. So knowing they weren’t threatened by me, I slowly make my way toward them to get a better look.

They smaller children are pawing through the wet leaves on the streets, searching the near by grasses, and making sure they aren’t too far away from their mother.

They are aware of me now. One of the younger raccoon stands on his two feet and dutifully stares at me. I guess they are accustomed to people, and they know that we are not a threat. Otherwise, I think the mother emergency call would be sounded and the kits would scurry off to their dens and burrows.

When I stand there in the dark, alone in a city of a million or so people, I know peace. I am so drawn to these creatures. I guess there were a lot of thoughts going through my head at the time. I’m thinking of the recent break up, and I am thinking about the near-distant future, with is empowering. I’m thinking about romance. About why am in this situation. I’m thinking about why I’m in Vancouver…

It seems that after every visit to the city I come back feeling a little down. I can’t tell you why. Maybe it’s the fact that I don’t have community here. Maybe it’s the fact it makes me aware of my alienation. Or maybe it’s because I’m lonely. Or it could be something else…

I think I watched them for a good twenty minutes and then walked away. I left them picking through the leaves and scanning the lawns to find whatever it is they eat, you know, I don’t even know what they eat. I should.

I feel a little jealous of their lives. They are free to roam the city, doing the most instinctual things without too much thought. They feel basic emotions and don’t have to worry about who’s wearing what, who’s dating who, the bills they have to pay, and the job they have to work. They don’t have to worry about any of those things.

I hate Raccoons.