Oh Canada...

This is probably my favorite picture of all time. I don't know who these people are, I just stole it from some woman named "Holy Fuckballs" on Myspace. Doesn't it just completely embody the lives of most Canadians during summer? Getting drunk on Keiths, passing out, canoes, bbq's and being outdoors... All that's missing is a hockey stick and a picture of a beaver.



True Patriot Love

The Prophet

On the urging of someone close to me, I've been reading a book called The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran these past few days. It is a little out of my comfort zone (religiously), but I found most of it compelling, enlightening and quite beautiful.

This passage is from "The Farwell,"

"It was but yesterday we met in a dream. You have sung to me in my aloneness, and I of your longings have built a tower in the sky. But now our sleep has fled and our dream is over, and it is no longer dawn.

The noontide is upon us and our half waking has turned to fuller day, and we must part. If in the twilight of memory we should meet once more, we shall speak again together and you shall sing to me a deeper song. And if our hands should meet in another dream, we shall build another tower in the sky."

George W Bush: It's Texan For "I'm A hypocrite"

None of the following information is new, but in lieu of comments and actions from this past week I felt it necessary to bring the facts back to light.

While Governor of Texas, George W. Bush over saw the execution of 152 people from 1995-2000. By far the most executions under one Governor in the entire history of The United States of America.

On June 19th 1999 and November 9th 2000, he ignored international law by executing two men, the first from Canada and the second from Mexico. During the 15 years that the Canadian man sat on death row, Bush refused to inform the Canadian government that the man, Stan Faulder, was even in jail, let alone sitting on death row.

In 1998 Bush ordered the killing of the first woman in Texas since the 1860's. Then while campaigning for the presidency in '99, he openly mocked this woman's [Karla Faye Tucker] last words in Talk Magazine:

" `Please,' Bush whimpered, his lips pursed in mock desperation, `don't kill me,' "

In another explicit example of his love for execution, here is an excerpt from a New York Daily News by Lars Nelson:

"He looked positively delighted as he shared his good news with all of America: He will preside over the deaths of the white men who murdered James Byrd, a 49-year-old black man, in 1998. 'Guess what's going to happen to these men?' he grinned at the camera during last night's debate with Vice President Gore. 'They're going to be put to death.' Bush beamed in happiness. He was so enthusiastic at the prospect of new executions that he said he would execute all 3 of Byrd's killers. Texas does not need anti-hate-crime laws, Bush said. 'We cannot enhance the penalty any more than putting those 3 thugs to death,' he said. He grinned again."

As stated in my second "Terri Schiavo" post, Bush also pushed through the Futile Care Law in '99. This is a law that gives hospitals the power to remove life support from patients that have little hope of survival and cannot pay for their medical treatment. This law is effectively killing infants because their parents cannot pay for medical treatment, a direct contradiction to the new law he's pushing through concerning Terri Schiavo.

So why is President Bush trying to persuade the courts and a nation, that it is best to "err on the side of life." Why is he trying to make the world believe that it is wrong to remove the feeding tube from a woman that has been in a persistent vegetative state for 15 years, yet its fine to remove a feeding tube from a six month old infant? Considering his stance on abortion, is he trying to say that 40 year old vegetative women and fetuses have more rights than infants and inmates? To tell you the truth, I have no fucking clue what this guy is trying to say. The only thing here that I am sure of is that he is constantly changing his word, policies and commitments. George W. Bush must stand for "I'm a hypocrite" in Texan.

Marshall McLuhan wrote "The ignorance of how to use new knowledge stockpiles exponentially." I think the same thing could be said for power.

Happy Easter

Terri Schiavo Part 2: My Thoughts

Let me start off by being quite blunt. No beating around the bush or delaying for dramatic effect.... So here it is: Pull the plug. Now that you know what I think, let me backtrack a little and explain my reasoning. It is far less callus and blunt than it seems.

Terri Shiavo has been on life support for about 15 years. Over this time she has, not willingly, put her husband and family through more pain than joy and cost them more than an arm and a leg in medical bills... maybe like an arm, leg and ass cheek. Either way, its costing a butt-load. She has had slim to no chance of EVER recovering and hasn't even been able to acknowledge their presence.

This case has gone through more appeals then any capital crime and been ruled on by more judges than is even necessary or reasonable. The whole process has been done to a tee. This is probably one of the few times that the courts took every possible step and did it all by the book. You can hate the Judges decision all you want, but respect it. Stop delaying the pain and suffering of all these people that actually have something to do with this woman. Every day, minute and second that passes is delaying the inevitable and causing the family more pain. Pain that their wife/daughter is suffering, pain in the belief that she might recover and pain in the fact that they cannot grieve for their wife, child and friend.

Now there are rumors that Terri has been somewhat responsive and there is hope of rehabilitation. Well, if this is true then that changes my whole out look on things. If there is a chance that she could come out of this, then by all means save the poor woman; But why couldn't you rehabilitate her at any point in the past 15 years? Why now, on her death bed, do you say there is a sudden change in her condition? Why? If this woman dies it will be a tragedy, but that's life. You cry, you grieve, you move on and remember the good times. No matter what happens though, any outcome of this will result in terrible pain and sadness for the family. The rest of the world, however, will move on in a matter of days. For the family this is real, it isn't entertainment or fighting for a cause to boost your own self-worth. So why the big fuss? Because it's all politics. All of it. Period. It is a case that many politicians saw as an opportunity to advance their own agendas. A case that would bring out the pro-lifers/anti-abortionists, create support from the catholic majority of middle America and create a media frenzy. I'm certain that Jeb Bush, the man behind the madness, doesn't even see a person laying in a bed right now starving to death. All he see's is another rung in the ladder to follow daddy and dubya.

Speaking of publicity, have you heard of the name Sun Hudson? No? Well you're not alone. In a similar case (that has had almost zero media attention) on March 15th, the feeding tube was removed from six month old baby Sun Hudson. This was also done against his mothers wishes. Sun was born in September with an incurable and rare form of dwarfism that results in lungs too small to sustain life. Citing what is known as the Texas Futile Care Law, a judge ordered the baby's tubes be removed which resulted in his death. What is the Futile Care Law, you might ask? and how can they do this against a mother's wishes without any sort of appeal? Well, the Futile Care Law was brought into effect to give hospitals the right to remove life support if the patient can't pay and if there is no hope of revival, regardless of the family's wishes. And who signed this into Texas law in 1999? You guessed it, George W. Bush. Yes, this is the same man who, as President, cut a vacation short to push through a law to try and save Terry Shiavo. A law in direct violation of his earlier law. His words were, "It is best to err on the side of life." Well sorry ole' buddy, you can't change your mind when money is on the table. Ask Ms. Hudson.

Terri Schiavo and husband Michael in 1990

Life Is a Whirlwind

I came on here planning to finish the second part of my look at the Terry Shiavo Case, but I don't really know what is going to come out of this now (I will say that I have written the second part, I just need to re-read/edit it out)

I had a big family Easter dinner tonight, which is always a joy. For those four hours, every and all problems with the world are forgotten. There is just so much love, compassion and emotion flowing throughout everyone that it is hard not to get caught up in it. I wish that everyone had a family as large as mine, the mood created when so many people that love eachother come together is enchanting. I must have been grinning from ear to ear the whole night because when I left my face actually hurt. I forgot how that felt.

I left around 9ish to go to my buddies apartment feeling on top of the world, almost euphoric. On my way there I made a quick stop at a gas station to get a drink because we planned on watching a movie. How I wish I never made that stop. Well back to the story. I strolled into the gas station with the water bottles in plain sight, I made a left around the potato chip aisle and opened the door. As I removed a one liter bottle of Polaris, I turned around to a familiar voice saying loudly:

"Boshell... What the fuck is up buddy?!"

It was an old friend I hadn't seen in a while... on purpose. Well we got to shooting the shit and filling eachother in on what has been going on in our lives, when a bomb was dropped. A big bomb. For certain reasons I won't go into, I won't divulge the "rumor" that he told me. However, I will say it wasn't good. It opened an old wound. A very sensitive old wound and one I had hoped was closed. I'm still in shock over it all actually. After he closed his mouth, I began speaking strictly in vowels. All that was coming out was "eeee, uhhhhh, aaaaaa, oooooo."

I really didn't want to be there anymore, so I rather abruptly ended the conversation and took off down the street. I pulled up to my buddies apartment, sat down and watched a movie. I didn't tell him anything even though it wasn't about him. I just sat and stared at the screen. Mind racing. Heart pumping. Breathing Rapidly. I sat for two hours without saying a word and then when the movie was over tried my best to carry a conversation. It's actually quite funny how normal you can make yourself look and act when trying to conceal pain.

Anyways, I left around 12:30 to go home with my heart still racing and my thoughts still swirling. I Drove from North Van to downtown all the while watching the rain streak across the windshield. Drop by drop, streak by streak, I watched the lives of hundreds of people pass me by. Then my heart stopped racing and my thoughts stopped swirling. I missed one light on the corner across from 'Mission Possible' because I was entranced by an old woman in a winter jacket sitting on the ground. Soaking wet, she just sat their shivering, shaking and rubbing her hands together. I wanted so badly to get out and offer her the sleeping bag that was in my trunk or the umbrella that was in the back seat. While I sat there, the rain kept falling, drop by drop the rain covered my windows. Slowly running down and building up, ever so slowly the rain fell, fogging my view to the point where she disappeared from sight. When it was over and I drove off, it was as if it were a mirage in the barren wasteland of downtown Vancouver.

I sit here now thinking about life. About what each life is worth and how a seemingly random crossing of paths can impact someone so deeply. I drive through the streets of Vancouver almost daily and each day I drive by the poor, the disenfranchised and the homeless. Each day I drive by people with families that have forgotten them or people that came here in hope of a life and instead found death in the form of addiction. Each day I just drive by.

Tonight... I stopped. For those two minutes I was parked at a light on Powell street I was held. In the exact opposite way than my family dinner earlier in the night, I was euphoric again. The passion and the very thing I call life was shaken to the core. Just chalk up another one to the number of enlightening moments I've had the past 3 days. Its so hard to put into words the things that are running through my head right now. I went from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows and then got hit in the head with a shovel. A shovel in the form of an old, haggard woman sitting on the sidewalk, alone, in the rain.

Terry Schiavo Part 1: Background

The first time I heard the name Terri Schiavo was about a year ago. I sat and watched a news report on the sad story of a woman stuck in a vegetative state for nearly 14 years. Her husband and family had been by her side, all the while hoping beyond hope that she could recover. However, when the show I saw aired they were locked in a bitter struggle over the woman they all loved so much. The husband and friends believed that Terri wouldn't want to be kept alive by a machine; Whereas, the mother and father believed the opposite.

After watching the initial program, I remember being saddened at the events that were taking place around this woman. The people she loved were fighting over her very existence while she lay there, not being able to voice her own opinion or even acknowledge their presence. I remember thinking, "what would I want my family to do if I was in that situation?" However, the next day I had forgotten all about it and her. I had moved on to the next scandal deemed news worthy. Terri Schiavo and the very idea of her existence had slipped out of my mind. Now, one year later, it has been hard to go a day without seeing her name in bold print... Everywhere.

The woman who has now been in a persistent vegetative state for 15 years is at the forefront of American and Canadian consciousness. Time after time, Mr. Schiavo has won his case to have Terri's feeding tube removed; and time after time, it has been followed by appeals from Terri's parents. The story has gotten even bigger because the US Congress stepped in to try and overturn the courts rulings. In fact the head US Monkey.. errr. President GWB even mentioned her in a National address. In my not so humble opinion, this has gotten completely out of hand.

Approximately 6 days ago, Terri's husband won his battle to have the feeding tube that has been keeping Terri alive removed. As of Thursday night the Courts have upheld the decision and ruled not to re-insert her feeding tube. They stated that, consistently, Terri's parents have failed to provide proof that she has any chance at recovery and that these were not her wishes.

There is no denying the tragedy of this case and the gargantuan impact that this will have on the law itself. So tomorrow I'll post Part 2: How I feel About It... Its a doosy

Hypocrisy vs Enlightenment

When I started this blog all those many moons ago, in November, I said to myself that it wouldn't turn into one of those angst ridden, whiney blogs that is just a whole bunch of complaining written out to annoy those around me. Well after re-reading fair bit of what I have written over the past couple weeks, that's exactly what I have been doing. I always despised reading live journals, blogs and emails complaining about how hard life is being stuck in middle or upper middle America. I just thought, "It's life, GET OVER IT!" Now here I sit, contemplating the hypocrisy of it all. I have become what I never thought I could. What I said I wouldn't. I am THAT person.

I set out with the goal to write down critical thoughts of the world around me, tell my story and generally just write. Some of those things I have done, but lately it's been done in manner that I'm just not happy with. What happened to the idea that I could question the information coming through my television, computer and newspapers? Has it gotten to the point in my educational career that I have taken the notion of "giving people what they want" home with me. Has it gotten to the point where my bullshitting and trying to achieve the highest mark possible has ended up infiltrating my everyday life? It's kind of funny really, but that's the way its looking. I'm just glad that I had my little moment of enlightenment now rather than 15 years down the line when I'm un-happy with my 9-5 and cookie cutter existence. No longer will I write down, think or express what I think people want or believe. I will write down and express what I believe. It's not that I don't care about other peoples thoughts and feelings anymore, but to be blunt... Fuck'em. If it is impossible to express how you feel in a forum that is supposed to be open without boundaries, then I'll move somewhere where it is possible.

In one sense this is the end, the end of one moment in time and my life. However, in so many other ways this is just the beginning. Look out.

?

I'm going to try and post something different for once in a long while...

Over the past couple weeks I have slipped back into a very unhealthy sleeping pattern that could pretty much pass for sleep deprivation. Why? It's a combination of things really; Some nights it's because I have so much work to do for school that I don't have time for sleep, other nights it's for reasons you could probably think of. The fact remains, right now I am running on 3 hours of spotty sleep and I had a comfortable 5 hours the night before. I am tired, I can feel it. My eyes are heavy, my concentration wanes and my energy level is borderline sluggish. I was told that exercise is a good cure for insomnia because it gets you moving and naturally makes your body tired. So I have been working out 5 days a week and running or walking 7 days a week. Yes, it does tire me out, but I still can't sleep. I guess its a good think Im not a big gambler because my cards a really cold right now.

At night I'll lay down, hugging a pillow and stare blankly at the blinds, the ceiling or my doors for hours upon hours. Sometimes I get so fed up of staring at nothing that I roll over and sit in front of the computer or turn on the TV. All the while thinking, "I fall asleep during movies or TV shows all the time." Not now. When I want to fall asleep during a show or a movie I can't. Figures. One brightside of this is that I feel I understand why all great artists and thinkers never slept. I've never been as pleased with an essay as I was with the one I handed in yesterday. When I'm busy not concentrating in class, my doodles (see: Drawings) are getting better and better. I actually got a few complements on them today... One being from one of my teachers. I hope the creativity continues because I am going to be stuck in books for the next week. 1 paper down - 2 to go.

I don't know what the point of this post was. Maybe to keep me occupied while I ignore the ever growing mound of readings and homework I have to do. Maybe to keep the creative flow of thoughts running while I can. Maybe it's just because I'd like to let you all know I'm here, all the while wishing I was there... Sleeping and trapt in a dream.

Requiem For A Day

You know what the best feeling in the world is? When you lay down to bed after a good day. When you are so content and fulfilled that there is nothing to do, but lay down and fall into a dream. When you have a good day, you smile and laugh. You realize that things aren't really as bad as you originally thought and you forget about everything except being happy. You soak up the sun, the warmth, the love, the happiness and the joy. You love yourself, everyone and everything around you. At the end of a good day absolutely nothing could take away that natural high. Oh, I remember it so well.

Over the past week, there have been no days like that. I have had good moments, but like a bad rash I have been haunted by many memories. Haunted by the memories of those good days. The days spent in happiness and bliss. Even days that seemed so so or didn't seem like much at the time are beautiful in hindsight. My memories are like music. Almost like a requiem for all the days spent in happiness and in love. As beautiful as they are, they do nothing but play solemnly in my mind. Softly and slowly.

Over the course of this week, there has been one quote that has kept me going, although ever so slowly. It was written by Ralph Waldo Emerson and fits beautifully into what I have written thus far:

"Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could;
some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as
you can. Tomorrow is a new day; you shall begin it serenely and with
too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense."

I must have read those words a thousand times in the past 8 days and I must have repeated the words over a million more in my head. However, I cannot forget the blunders and absurdities and I cannot silence the requiem playing in my head. The music, the memories are there. Ingrained into my very being and there is nothing I can do about it. I don't ever want to forget them and I don't ever want to live without them. Fuck, I wouldn't be ME without them. I just wish that it was possible to silence them for a few days, tuck them away in a closet like Christmas decorations and then just bring them out when I felt like looking at something beautiful.

Are memories like a photo album? Can you tuck them away and bring them out? If you can tuck them away, will you ever find them in all that clutter? Will they be lost in a maze of memories and moments that you would rather forget or will they be placed perfectly with all the happy and joyful moments? These questions I have yet to answer. I tried to remember ever feeling the way I do now and if so what I did to get through it. Problem being, I can't seem to sort through all the clutter. I sit here searching... for an answer or for peace of mind, I dont know; But, All the while the requiem is playing in my head. The requiem for a day, for that good day when you lay down, fulfilled, happy and content.

Post #2

After I posted my first blog today I went for a walk to clear my head. I ended up going through China Town and over to Tinsletown. Anyways, I ended up running into a statue that made me smile. It's kinda funny considering what I talked about yesterday....



I hope it makes you guys smile or laugh as it did me.

And The Award Goes To...

And the award for most uncomfortably awkward moment in the history of awkward moments goes to...

My running into that ex-special someone this morning.

It was the first time since the break up that I have seen her and I have to say it was hard to stand there and not walk away. I don't hate her at all and it's not that I didn't want to see her, but standing there trying to make small talk with the person that you love, all the while knowing that things are not and most likely never will be the same was unbearable. I know that she will read this, so im going to try and make things as clear and concise as possible.

This is not what I wanted. Period. If I had my way, we would still be together and nothing would have changed. However, we are not together and whether she decided to do this, her heart decided to do this or her gut decided to do this, the fact remains that she broke things off. I don't like saying it like that and I sure as hell don't blame her for her feelings, but because of how it ended I cannot just reach out to her the way I would like to.

So in saying that, I cannot stand there and try to make things more comfortable. I mean, she knows everything that im feeling and I've said almost all I can say. So in any and all forms of communication, she has all of the control. If she wants to talk, all she has to do is pick up the phone, write an email, send me a message and I'll answer; but I cannot stand there and try to make her feel better about the situation. I just cannot when I am hurting.

When it comes to hugging goodbye, again, she has all control. Is there a risk that I won't hug back... maybe; But, SO WHAT! It was her choice to end things, im soooo sorry if I was and still am hurt by all of this. Hell, if I felt at all empowered in this situation I would have probably held her as tight as I could and never let go. Again though, this whole thing is out of my hands. So I guess what Im trying to say is that I'm sorry the situation was as uncomfortable as it was, but Im not apologizing in any way, shape or form for my lack of words and for not being more forward. The ball is out of my court and I dont like feeling as if it is being forced upon me.

To end, I just want to say that I am in no way mad at her. I hold zero resentment towards her. How could I be mad at someone who I love that is simply following their heart. Thats right, I can't. I am merely hurting at the fact that I cannot do anything. I feel alone & helpless, there is nothing I can say or do and it sucks. I just really hope she finds what she is looking for and whatever it is, that it's worth it.

My day...

Got up, went for a walk, worked out, watched TV and sat on my bed.

For really doing so little, it was pretty long and entertaining. On my walk I stumbled upon this extremely weird game that I had never seen before. I soon discovered that it was called Hurling and is a traditional Irish sport. It is sort of a cross between handball and field hockey from what I could gather, but it is nowhere near as dull as it sounds. The people that were playing it, even though competing, seemed to have so much joy for this game and their company. Sitting there perched on a ledge I watched them play for about an hour and found myself transported out of my body and mind. With no thoughts about anything other than the beautiful sun and camaraderie of the men and woman, I found myself completely at peace with myself and my current situation.

Although that moment has passed and I am now, more than any time in these past 4 days, drawn back into a sense of loneliness and anguish. I remember what it was like to be happy and at peace. Even though it was just for an hour, it put the taste back in my mouth. I want that feeling again and I hope that it comes sooner than later because I'm really starting to hurt more and more.

These past four days seemed to actually go by rather quickly, but since sitting on that ledge I have realized how perfectly happy and content I was before. I realized how lucky I was and even more I realized how hard it will be to go back to having any sort of normalcy. It's not that there was break from routine, from what WAS normal, but the fact that I myself don't feel normal. I've always been told that to break a habit or to change something in your life it takes 30 days. So can it be said that certain routines, actions or people in your life can be likened to cigarettes? Will I be fine and able to cope in 30 days? I ask, because that is how I feel. I feel like an addict that is being forced to go without that fix. The cravings are getting worse and worse and I feel as if I am beginning to fiend and in a day or two go through physical withdrawl symptoms. Will I wake up shaking in a cold sweat? Or will I simply keep going through the agonizing hours of absolutely nothing? As cliche' as it seems, I keep saying to myself that only time will tell and to take it 1 day at a time. The only problem is that time seems to have stood still.

Love Is A Motherfucker

It's funny the things you take solace in while going through hard times. Normally, I just end up in the warm embrace of my old buddy Jack Daniels for a few days. Well not this time, for some odd reason (that I still haven't worked out) I have chosen to give up drinking for a while. The length of this 'while' has yet to be determined, but its looking like a long while. So for the past few days I have found myself not stuffing my face with comfort food, not drinking away the sorrow of a lost love, but working out, running and writing like the wind. Anything that will keep my mind off the... uhh... well you know. I figured it would slowly but surely get easier to cope with and so far I have never been further from the truth (Well not purposely). I work out and my heart aches, and I can't go outside because the smell of fresh air is unbearable. It has only been a couple of days and all I hear is my own voice echoing from past advice to others in similar situaions...

"Oh it will get easier with time, and you will get over her. You have to go through the rain to enjoy the sunshine right?"

What a fucking dick I was. That sort of stuff is the last thing I want to hear right now and I'm sorry for ever saying that to any one of my friends that were previously in the position I now find myself in. I didn't have a fucking clue and I get that . Its hard enough to avoid the sappy love songs and movies that seem to just bombard you when you're in a vulnerable state, but to be told that you will stop loving somebody and you'll be ok with it??? Fuck that shit. What I want to hear, is my phone ringing and my girl on the other end telling me she loves me back... What I want to hear are the giggling noises we make as our stomachs wage war on eachother while laying in bed or while watching a movie... I want to hear her snort while she laughs when she finds something just TOO funny... I want to hear the cute little squeak she makes when I hug her tightly.

I wish someone would just be honest with me and say, "Look dude, you love this girl and you're not going to get over her. Don't try. Just realize that your relationship is over for right now. Maybe someday down the line you two will get back together, but respect the fact that love is a motherfucker and try to get by the best you can." Because, that is all I'm trying to do right now. I don't ever want to 'get over' her and I know that I will never stop loving her. I'm just trying my best to get by, because love is one crazy motherfucker.

Drowning...

I was raised most of my life in or around water. My family had a cabin in the Sunshine Coast and I was on a competitive swimming team for 8 0r 9 years. I am in no way shape or form afraid of drowning in water. However, I have always been afraid to express how I truly felt emotionally, for fear of 'drowning' metaphorically. Picture the kid that climbs up to the high dive or up on the cliffs and watches the people around him/her dive from way up high into the warm water below, all the while standing there shaking in pure terror. It looks safe. Hell, everyone around you is jumping in without a second thought. Yet, your afraid to jump because it would ultimately mean committing oneself emotionally, mentally and physically to an act in which he/she has no control over. Once you jump anything can happen, you just open yourself up and trust that you'll get through it alright. It's working for everyone else, why not you?

Well as my 21 plus years have sped by, I have stood on that ledge a handful of times. Walking up the ladder, only to succumb to my fears and then retreat back down to the safety of the ground... alone. Recently that all changed, I took the plunge. I dove off the cliff head first. I spread my wings and tried to express how deeply I felt for someone, only to be stuck underwater. I was slowly drowning, grasping for the surface and gasping for air. Hoping that a hand would reach down and pull me out. As much as I fought, I kept falling deeper and deeper. Is this how it works? When two people love eachother, is that not enough? I always loved John Lennon's song, "All you need is love." It's only now that I realize how wrong he was. I wish that it was true, fuck, I want so badly for it to be true. I'm floating here underwater praying that it's true.

Since this is the first time I've been stuck in the position I now find myself in, I sit here wondering if there is a switch that I can turn off. A switch that will just pull the plug, let the water recede and let me go back to normal. Is it possible to un-love someone when nothing has really gone wrong? Is it possible to un-love someone at all? Is it possible to forget the good times? Do I really want to? How could I want to? All these questions are swimming around in my heart and mind, but nothing has called out yet. The water that looked so warm from the cliffs above seems so so cold now. It's too early to tell how everything is going to play itself out. I just hope when/if I climb out of the water or get rescued I'm not all pruney.

In Search Of...

"What do I want to do?"

This is the question that I found myself pondering last night as I finished writing my blog. What do I want to do with my life? It's quite funny really, I spent my childhood and adolescence fantasizing about what it would be like to be an adult. What it would be like to be able to do anything and everything that I wanted and not worry about getting grounded or coming home before 11pm. Now here I stand, on the cusp of the biggest decisions of my life and I stand here like a child lost in the wilderness. Which way to go? What to do? It seems like every person feels a duty to throw their two cents in...

" Oh, your good with kids... Why don't you be a school teacher."
" You look like you should be a Cop... or a Firefighter."
" Why not just get a business degree and work in an office."

And it just keeps going on and on like that, day in and day out. I'm not bothered by it when people feel the need to quiz me on the subject. Hell, when I'm as old as you guys I'm going to ask the same questions to every punk teenager and University student I know. The problem I have with it is that I dont have an honost answer to give people. There are so many things that I want to do or think I want to do, I just end up telling people what I think it is that they want to hear. A little nod of the head and a, "hmm I've thought about that" and I send them on their way.

So with these thoughts swirling around in my head, I chose to retreat to my childhood. Take an introspective look at myself and what it is that I enjoyed doing as a kid and what it is that I enjoy doing now. While doing this, I stumbled upon an old box of stories and journals that I had written when I was probably about 10 or 11. I started reading them and remembered how much I enjoyed reading and writing back then. How I used to avoid the television to read a book or sit outside and write a story. I thought, this is what I like to do... this is it. Maybe i won't write novels, maybe just screenplays or short stories, but this is it. I think. Maybe. Fuck, I don't know.

Due to circumstances outside of my control I was forced to read textbooks for school most of today; However, whenever I felt that I had earned a break from that I came on the computer to "research" the fine art of writing. I found myself reading notes, how-to articles, scripts, books and basically anything that I stumbled upon that seemed like it could help me. After taking a couple 3 hour "breaks" I'm more scared now, then when I had no clue of what I wanted to do. It is an uneasy feeling when making decisions such as this one. It's almost like easing into cold or hot water, or taking off a bandaid. I know I should just jump in, get wet and get moving, but right now I'm holding back. I'm putting my toes in the water, but right now it's still a little cold for me. I'm a laid back guy and I want to take it slowly, but I feel as if that is the wrong approach here and I'm powerless to do anything. The thing is, I hold all the power. All I have to do is sit down and start. Fuck, what am I doing write now? I'm sitting here writing about writing. At least it's a start.

Changes

Well, like my last post said, I've been going through an awful lot the last little while. I've changed, grown and well matured a little since I started this blog a few months back (hard to believe isn't it?). For both health and money reasons, I have severely cut back on drinking and going out. You see, my body and my wallet couldn't afford to keep going the way I was going. So, to reflect the changes in myself... I decided to change the title of my blog. Hopefully, the title will reflect what I write more so than the old title.

Overdue

Its been over a month since the last time I wrote on this thing and so much has gone on in my life it would be hard to stop writing. With that said, I'm not going to be writing anything substantial at the moment. I have only come on to get the creative juice's flowing and get back into the swing of things.

Im currently studying for a mid-term I have on monday. It is one of the few times I have really been worried about a test. I know that I know everything and will get through the test without a problem. However, I'm still sweating like a fat kid trying to climb a flight of stairs. Is it that I'm over confident? Is it that i'm unsure of myself? I don't think it's either. It's the fact that once this month is over and I'm done all my research papers and exams I just don't know what im going to do. School, as tough and mind numbing as it is sometimes, is secure. It is comforting knowing exactly what I have to do for the week. When I have to be somewhere and when I have time to myself. The thought of not knowing and having nothing to do is frightening. I think I need a hobby.