Post.Hiatus/post.readME

Everything is eventual and everything takes time. That is something that sounds both incredibly pretentious but is incredibly true. It is also something that I very much agree with and believe in. The pretentiousness as well as the validity of the statement. I would like to say something like “Hey guys, I know you missed me!” or “I’m finally back y’all, no more wondering!”. However I know that none of you wondered or missed me. For that matter, I know for a fact that nobody even noticed. Which is actually alright with me because it is very low pressure and makes writing this much easier, seeing as it will most likely go unnoticed as well.

My last post was a while ago, but my last post that was actually noticed by anyone was THIS long ago (I apologize for the capitals, but it makes hyper-linking more fun). I would like to point out that it is my grandma that wrote the only comment on that post, and isn’t that the sweetest damn thing? It is. There you go. Despite the length of time between that post and this post, I do feel as though I lost something of myself as I stopped posting here, whether or not anyone was noticing. Nothing crazy significant like my mind or anything. Just a little bit of drive and or motivation. I mean, lets reflect for a second here.

At the time that I was running this website religiously (sorry mom), I was also writing a book, actively making music and also running a youtube channel (not WELL mind you but still doing it). Since then I have not written the sequel, I have made some music, but the youtube channel is otherwise defunct and this website is a sham I say, A sham! Not that I don’t think that despite my absence it still looks and functions nice. Because it does, and you cannot tell me any different because I will fight you. Though you must understand first that my version of fighting is sincerely different than most peoples. Mine consists of ignoring you rather intently while simultaneously checking in to make sure you aren’t still mad at me.

The point I assume that I am dancing around, is that I need structure in my life. Something that I have proven to myself time and time again though in every other facet of my life. Professional, personal and no creative. I have structure on a lot of things that I didn’t in the past and think that maybe now I can engage in the things that truly motivate me and make my heart sing (cheesy, very very cheesy). For instance I want to finish writing my follow up book (maybe actually publish the first one though hm?). I want to make more music, I want to work on my YouTube channel, I want to do it all. Most importantly I want to keep this website from disappearing (I mean I am paying for it after all).

The truth is, life did to me as it does to all, it got in the way. I found myself absorbed in things that both mattered but also didn’t need me to put all other things to the wayside and I got distracted. As well though, I got a job that I thought I wanted, got let go from that job and then had the time to work on these things. Instead however I worked on myself. Something that everyone should get the chance to do a couple times a year (not the getting let go part, just the self work). I realized I can’t drink regular coffee anymore, decaf all the way, and I also finally started putting effort into my fitness. On top of all that I’m reading again and am actually engaged in the world around me. My anxiety is essentially under control. Something I wasn’t sure I was ever going to be able to celebrate. It was never out of control per se but it was always cropping up and annoying me, so here here to its demise!

With all that though, I do have to say… I have missed you, all of you, whoever has dared read this far into my wandering words and trembling typeface. I really have. I say that I create for you, for me, though maybe I haven’t been faithful to that. In my defence I would like to say that I have been incredibly busy, though I know that that is only true to a certain extent and expectation of that word. So to you I make a promise. I promise to be busy, whether it be working, or living, but never be it an excuse and I wager my life on that. Because a life worth living is a life well lived, and a life well lived is worth like all of the dollars you could ever imagine or whatever man (Damn, almost had it).

Thanks for listening.. er… reading, and please stick around, because though I might not be as much of a mess as I used to; theres still messes to be made, of me and of you, for you, for me.

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<Creative/CONtrol

I feel as though something every creative person struggles with from time to time is the concept of doing it for themselves or doing it for them. The “Them” I am referring to is the clients/employers/general population. It can be easy to get caught up in the idea of producing art or otherwise creating things for a paycheck. I mean isn’t that the dream? Being able to do what you love and being financially secure from it? At the same time though, can’t that be torturous if you wind up doing something thats only a fraction of the craft you love? Something thats diluted and watered down by the interjections of an institution of some kind? I myself do freelance writing and while I do enjoy aspects of it, I find that it takes away from the time I used to have to create in the way that I love to.

With that being said, I’m not complaining, only stating that in those situations you need to make sure you find a little bit of time to do what you truly love and balance your passion with the paycheck.

Heres my effort to do that exact thing.

I present to you Chapter one of “A Bastard’s Last Dance”.

The liquid that filled my mouth was thick and tasted of metal. My jaw was clenched tight as another fist swung into and connected with the right side of my chin. The blood I had been holding onto fled the vessel of my mouth with vigour as I fell. I landed on my left side supported by my hands and knees, the blood slowly dripping from my now open mouth. I had no words for the man standing behind me though he had plenty for me. I wasn’t altogether sure anymore why I was here on the ground. Not to say that I didn’t think I deserved to be but to say that I thought I had more fight in me. While assessing my beliefs in my combat abilities I felt the business end of a steel toe boot connect with the left side of my ribs. I am ashamed to say this is when I first cried out in pain. It wasn’t the two punches to the stomach or the two to the jaw. It wasn’t even collapsing on hands and knees in an abandoned warehouse where not one of my friends could find me. It was feeling the tip of that boot connect with my ribs and hearing the loud crack that went along with it. To clarify the audible I must confess that it wasn’t my ribs that cracked, though I imagine there are fractures. No, it was what I had placed in the inner pocket of my jacket that emitted the distressing sound that caused my outcry. The item to which I was affectionately attached had initially belonged to my father. It was his favourite watch that he had left me. The last object besides the DNA within me that connected us. I knew that the destruction of a material item such as a watch could never sever the bond or dissolve the memories I had of him. Though it was the principle of the item that I had wished to remain intact. As I rolled onto my back with the pain in my ribs pulsing through my torso I clutched my jacket where the now broken watch resided. It was neither the item or my possession of it that brought me to this low of a place both literally and metaphorically. It was something else entirely that can neither be truly possessed or otherwise owned. The man was pacing around me saying words that I both understood and didn’t agree with. He made claims of trespassing and theft though to which he referred could as I mentioned, be neither owned or possessed. As I lay in pain on the ground surrounded only by emptiness and the words of my villain, I managed to retrieve the pack of cigarettes i held in my right side pocket. He didn’t seem to care as I flipped open the lid and produced what was now a half sized cigarette presumably damaged in the struggle. I lit my small but equally as appreciated saving grace and took my first drag. I was overwhelmed with an awesome wave of calm as it soothed my aches. Intent on savouring my chemical bliss I let the smoke drift slowly through my lips as I noticed his ranting had stopped. Drawing my eyes back to his presence he stood now several feet away. All was as I’d left it save for the knife now clutched tightly in his grip.

“Well alright then”

I mumbled softly. My eyes floated back to the smoke still escaping into the world. I took another long drag, this time enjoying it more as my last. As he took another step towards me the plume of smoke I exhaled reminded me of a rose. A beautiful and elegant rose, like the very flower that got me into this mess. I closed my eyes to his advancing and basked in the memory. The warmth filled me as a pot of hot water and I floated away silently. Drifting away just me and my flower.

Group/Activity_README

Being a part of a group is a magical experience. No matter what kind of group you’re in it’s an experience and it contains magic if you’re willing to look. And by that I definitely mean being the creepy guy at the end of the table who watches everyone else interact. It’s wholesome and fantastic! Always. It never fails. Unless you get engrossed in an interesting and captivating conversation, then you’re screwed. Or maybe then you’re actually participating. But isn’t that overrrated. I mean really, you could be watching the events unfold instead of actually being involved. Wait… that could be the anxiety talking. 

Hold on. My point makes sense. What I’m saying is that a group dynamic is intriguing. You have a varying collection of thoughts and personalities all colliding in a giant melting pot where we all contribute different aspects of our culture towards a larger gain. Right? Isn’t that what America was built on? Or maybe that’s too trumped up of a statement. My point still stands. When you have the opportunity to be present at a group event, you should do it. Worst case scenario you make a new friend or learn something new. 

As my dad always said “pour me another beer” but seriously, as my dad always said “pour me another beer”. So in the wise words of my father whom I love. 

Pour me another beer, kid. 

Also, I need to get back to my group event now. I’ve been very absent through writing his. 

Post_Vacation_Bliss.exe

I’ve never really taken a vacation before. I mean, not one that was longer than a weekend and in a country other then the one I live in. Not one that I can recall while I sit here and type this anyways. Which is fine, because I’d rather have gone on few amazing vacations instead of many mediocre ones. Which is just my way of justifying a lack of vacationing I suppose. Its like when people say that its not how many friends you have its the quality, they’re just ashamed that they aren’t likeable enough to have more friends (I’m joking). I think I jut never thought I really deserved to take a vacation because I never really felt like I worked that hard to have earned one. I don’t feel that way now. About the vacation I just took at least.

It was time anyways, my partner and I have been together almost four years and had never had a real vacation and after the last year of endless hard work we just went through it was hard earned and well deserved. I mean she works hard, very hard. I suppose I don’t like, save lives or anything, but a friend once told me that its all perspective. For instance, I serve coffee at my day job and do freelance writing in my nights. You could argue that with the coffee I provide, I am saving lives. That isn’t to say that I’m on the frontline of salvation armed with percolated glory and a sling of holy coffee beans. Though it is to say that maybe that old yarn about “Give me my coffee before I snap” could be true for someone on a specific morning and I’m the one postponing the breakdown. Either way.

I don’t actually believe that I save lives, but I do believe that I at times have the ability to make a difference in someones day. Even if I’m just a blip on the radar, which is okay with me believe me, I think I leave a mark. Now I want to clarify that I don’t mean leave a mark like a lasting legacy and they’ll tell stories of my wisdom at the campfire to the younglings before bed. Just that maybe they’ll smile and think for a second that the day isn’t bleak and the end is a little more distant seeming than the horizon (Which isn’t me saying the end is nigh, we’ve probably got another ten years at least, or twelve).

The strange thing about vacationing to me is that you leave your home, go somewhere new to you (or familiar) and you live like you would if you weren’t restrained by work or obligations. The reason why I find that strange is that if we really wanted to I think a lot of us could live like we want a little more frequently in the place that we do call home. Not to be little the vacationing aspect of life, I do love it dearly, I just think that we may idolize a concept that can be applied more directly to everyday life. I mean think about it, maybe your idea of a good time is to climb way up into the alps or ski down a mountain in the freezing cold at break neck dangerous speeds (I’m not a skier, can you tell?). Then of course you cant just do that on a whim because your day job felt extra boring on a Tuesday. Maybe though, we can do more of the little things daily that make us smile and keep us happy instead of postponing them for that big trip you’ve been planning for two years and haven’t saved up enough for yet. Just a thought.

Regardless of what works for you, you should do it. For me, a vacation seems to have worked at least a little bit. The inner monologues have slowed down to a reasonable pace and the hordes of people I share this world with don’t seem quite as intimidating as usual. Maybe now I can get back to being productive in a creative way more frequently. I mean I do love money (money money money) but I should spend more of my time doing the things I love. So without dragging this thing out into a rally or a Ted talk. Lets all raise a glass of whatever you’re drinking as you read this and toast to love, dreams and whatever it is that makes us tick (unless its illegal, then cut it out you cheeky monkey).

Also, one last thing, never gamble. Even when you win, you wind up losing. Unless you win big, like really big, then always gamble and always win.

 

After The HoliDaze. 

Once we’ve all had our fill of Christmas dinners, presents, and family traditions. It’s time to sober up from the holiday buzz that overcomes us all. Whether you get drunk off the gift giving and holiday cheer, or just the eggnog, it’s a great time to take some self inventory. Did you get what you wanted out of the season? 

If your answer is an all around resounding “Yes!” Then I’m proud of you and happy for you! If. It’s not, then why is that? Keep in mind I’m not a therapist or counsellor so I’m not trying to get in your head or solve your emotional problems. I’m trying to open a dialogue. Something I always used to get hung up on was personal satisfaction. 

I mean that in a specific way such as, I would only ever find it if I managed to make everyone else as happy as I could over the holidays. Then I’d second guess myself and wind up miserable. It didn’t matter if I KNEW that I did a good job of gift giving or spreading holiday cheer, it would somehow get twisted. 

There’s no real solution to this that I can offer you, so instead, this is what I’ve been doing. Try and understand what you’re capable of accomplishing, and then what you’d like to accomplish. If those don’t line up, then adjust your perspective. It isn’t possible to make every single person on your list perfectly happy. Yet it is possible to do the best you can and feel good about it. 

As we trek through the last week of this very curious epidemic we know as 2016, don’t get hung up on the holidays. Look forward to the next chapter or the next project. Even the next holiday if that’s your bread and butter. Either way, acknowledge that you did your best, and you’re loved no matter how many gifts you brought to the tree, or how many hours you had to work through this season. 

It’s sometimes hard to fathom, but we’re all doing a little better than we’re feeling. 

Happy holidays, may you have a peaceful and love filled end to the year. 

Proving Grounds

To step into the ring of life is something forced upon everybody the day they’re born. To actually stand up and fight is something else entirely. That is a personal choice you come to on your own. Based upon early childhood experiences and your upbringing. It can be an uphill climb for some people, or the only option they have.

I personally feel as though I always had to have a bit of fight in me, yet it still took me time to really start swinging. Even now I catch myself relaxing, or slowing down, and have to correct that as I notice it. That isn’t to say that you cant take breaks or pause. It means different things to every person. To me, it means that I need to keep moving forward. There are things in all of our lives that can hold us back and keep us down, the point is to supersede those things and achieve.

That is not always something so simple as just “Getting up”. In those instances, its important to have a reason. Find your own reason and use that to push you. I have my own, which you can probably infer from the writing, or even my honest answers. The point I’m trying to make, is that life is a battle ground, and everyone has a part to play.

I feel like I’ve been raised to be strong, to fight and to win. Therefore I will. It’s still a struggle within, between my desire to rest and my need to fight. I hope I’m able to stoke the fire well enough to accomplish my goals. Although I suppose we all have to make concessions in the end. Here’s to hoping for fewer internal compromises and grander victories.

Life is an empty book as well, and each of us is a story teller, write something beautiful.

Making Friends…

As I write this, I’m sitting in the back of a cab on my way home after a few pre-Birthday beverages with my best friend. It wasn’t super planned or anything, it was a fairly spontaneous event. Decided on in the last hour of our work shift while preparing to leave for the day. The cab driver is playin baroque music and I’m feeling a pretty good vibe right now. 

My birthday isn’t until Sunday, yet we met up for a bit tonight because my originally planned Saturday night birthday fun had to be postponed. Due to life circumstances, such as my best friends sister having a baby. Damn, birthday theft is hard, especially when it’s done by a newborn. You just can’t get mad at them! 

That wasn’t the only struggle of the week though. It has been a harder one, and I admit I felt pretty low, very disappointed at times this week. However now, as I stand in my doorway with my batman balloon and new lantern and shirt; I can’t help but feel blessed. This is the first year in a long time where I’ve had personal friends who care about my birthday. I’m talking the ones outside of your family and not your partner. I work with both of my friends, and somehow we manage not to piss each other off. 

It’s a rarity that you have a best friend that you can work with, but somehow I’ve been blessed with that. It’s been over two years now, and a new person has entered the workplace. For the first time in the two years we’ve worked there, she fits in, and we’ve sort of adopted her. It’s less two friends and a third wheel now and more three musketeers. How far we’ve come! 

For a long time I didn’t feel worthy of friendship, or as though I couldn’t handle it. I still feel that way sometimes, or find myself thinking that I shouldn’t bother to put in the effort. It’s nights like this, and days like today, where everything goes right and you can’t help but smile; that I feel as though I might finally be doing that thing I always thought I missed out on. 

*See title*