Choose your words carefully friend, you are not a cartoon. There is no bubble on top of your head.
You are not a penciled image on paper, or even a sketched doodle with ink, your words cannot be erased. If you look down, there is ground, not a messy desk. There are no pencils, or rulers, or any sight of a single eraser scattered around you.
I hope you choose words of affection, like love, adore, and admire. Those words last longer, they ignite desire. They find our soul, and set it on fire. A burning flame that brings out passion, and, probably, a few good ol’ fashion belly laughs.
Be careful then, where you step my friend, that pothole is permanent, it’s not made of scrape paper, it won’t move when the artist tips the page. He’s already applied the crazy glue, and trust me, you’ll fall through, if you’re not careful where you step.
Yes, this life has so many obstacles, it’s hard to know where to go, and sometimes we misstep. Trust me, I have, so many times. But those harsh words you say, you can’t ever take them back. One word may seem harmless, one step could deem worthless, but I’m telling you, or maybe I’m reminding myself, you can’t take anything back.
So I pleadenly say,
Choose your words carefully friend, you are not a cartoon. There is no bubble on top of your head.
I feel impatient in this phase of life, as if waiting for nothing. All the space between now and then seems vast, a black hole that color can’t even seem to blast. My mind writes in simple rhymes, ignoring recklessness, trying desperately to pass the time, not even willing to conjure up some brilliant phrase of made up intelligence.
I move in fast forward through these hours and minutes, filling the in between with urgency and anxiety, simply clinging to any piece of insanity, still silently waiting.
Making myself so miserable today, because I just want tomorrow. I just want the end of the year, I can’t wait until it’s five years from now. I can’t wait until everything is hunky dorey, when I can tell a different story.
I know what you’re thinking, I know what you’ll say. Stop moving so fast, and enjoy this day, this moment right here, just stay. Move too fast and you will miss it, just trying to stay in it. That lane where you were supposed to turn, your eyes were closed, you didn’t learn. Another moment ruined.
And I hear you.
I’m trying not to move so fast, you see, but this isn’t where I thought I would be. A wrong turn, a missed dream, distractions seem eminent. Confusion sets in, and now I wonder, what is really relevant?
Then someone said, our whole life is simple poetry… I wish you could see that.
I suddenly realize, that maybe I’m stuck.
Placed myself somewhere inbetween all the bad decisions made from heart ache and longing, that I’m dodging, neglecting the now, too busy waiting for then. Then, I’ll be great, then, I’ll be happy, then, I’ll have more money, then, someone will love me, then, I will be free.
In this misguided, unoccupied space, between now and then, the blackness in which the journey has yet to be sighted, maybe I am actually free. Free to be me, to be the me I’ve always longed to be, to see, to be a rooted tree. Able to build a foundation where the blackness can fade, and dreams can be made. Stop simply daydreaming, and start doing. Create the opportunities in which colors are prominent, and determination, is deviant. Reach for something that is beyond temporary expedient.
The day is over, its once again dark outside. And boy, what a day.
I’m sitting in the same spot as last night, corner of W. Georgia Street and Cambie, watching more people shuffle by. With Halloween 5 days away, last nights blue and white jerseys are swapped for jokers, space men, sailors, a school girl, a puking orange clad prisoner though clearly ready to continue partying, a couple of devils, and a dog dressed as a hot dog. Clever.
Woo hoo guys! I am ecstatic, exuberant, exhausted. What a race today. Even floating on the thrill of the post race adrenaline rush, I’m having difficulty finding the right words. I kicked ass today. The race was, well, not sure if I can find the words. Invigorating, rejuvenating, inspiring, life changing.
As I sit here and write this, 20 hours later, every muscle in my body is singing, it even feels like my bones ache. But all I can think is, “I feel amazing! I feel strong!”I am continually astounded at what the body can do. The goal was a sub 2 aka (for all you non runners), run 21km’s in 2 hours. I almost did it. If not for all those darn hills, I would have done it. But I am so incredibly proud of what I did.
I’ve never disclosed this, but I was still sick this entire week. My throat hurt, my ears pounded. On Wednesday I was spending time hoping there was no infection. Thursday came, and we moved ourselves from Tofino to Vancouver… the wind on the ferry over was painful. I was going to run no matter what, but wow that would suck if I have to do it this sick. By Friday, there was so much adrenaline, topped with tons of Vitamin C, I didn’t have time to think even ponder it. It was race prepping day. Time to get my head in the game. By Saturday, the thumping in my ears had stopped, but my throat still hurt, I packed a couple of Ricolla drops. But through the race, I felt nothing but the souls of my feet feeling the cushion of my shoe as each foot hit the pavement. It all caught up with as soon as I crossed the finish line though, took me a bit to get past the throat pain before my legs started screaming.
What a rush.
Won’t even have much time to wonder at it, tomorrow, we go to whistler!
There is a hockey game tonight, and our hotel is right beside BC Place Stadium. I am downtown Vancouver, on a bench, corner of W. Georgia Street and Cambie, watching hoards of people stroll by. The sea of them littered with blue and white jersey’s, designer clothes, and positive game faces.
There’s going to be sweet chaos tonight.
I sit here, seamlessly invisible, if not for the occasional sideways glance. I think for a long second, they wonder if I’m homeless. A lonely poet maybe, spending more time in wishes then reality.
I am cold, but for the one creative part of me that seems to strive in constant noise and movement, I’ll remain on the bench a little while longer. Though I should have grabbed a thicker jacket.
I can’t help but wonder if any of the guys passing by think I’m hot, even without the home Jersey. Smoke in one hand, pen in the other. Doubt shouldn’t reign, of course they (probably) do.
My vacation is going really well. A pleasant mix of being in thick forested pine, drinking wine under the stars in a totally secluded got tub, and extreme metropolitan living.
(Fairly moderate pause).
Ok… my shivering body won, so I trucked myself upstairs back to my suite. Jeez louise it’s busy out there. Sorta makes me wish to be back in all those giant forested trees.
Tomorrow’s the big run. The race I’ve been training for all year. The entire reason for this “vacation”, and most importantly, being in Vancouver. The half marathon, the Fall Classic, the last race of the season. #runvan!! Going for a sub 2! The fastest I’ve ran 21 Km is 2:12:12, on flat ground. Muscles ready, mind impatient for the journey, let’s go see what I can do!
G’night ya’ll, tonight I get a glorious 8 hours of sleep!
Have you ever just stood naked in the forest? No barrier between you and nature. Like roots of the trees, my toes dig into the soft earth, searching for strength. My mind is still, silent, absorbing all the sounds around me. I can hear droplets of water as they fall to the ground, gently caressing each leaf on the way. My skin tingles between the displayed goosebumps.
There is no weight on my shoulders, no burdens to carry. No heavy decisions to make other then, do I go sit in the hot tub and watch the stars? Or sit in the chair in front of property?
Like the perfect set up of a surround sound, nature sounds fill each beat with steady tempo and a crescendo of melody. The harmony sets the mood to almost silent, the surrounding air, almost romantic.
Finally a break from city life. A much needed vacation, just my sister and I.
We started in Tofino, rented a quaint little Airbnb just outside of the town. Nestled in a piece of the rainforest, it boasted an outdoor shower and hot tub. Inside, as we walked in, we felt like it was a giant hug, embracing us with the serenity we were seeking.
Freshly baked, gluten free, dairy free, everything free, melt in your mouth, bring you closer to heaven, star cookies sat on the table, awaited our arrival.
The place was spectacular. It had a fully loaded kitchen, everything you need, making our morning coffee time a blissful endeavour. We spent our days relaxing between slow beach runs, boat rides, and shop hopping. We spent our evenings submerged in the hot tub, attempting to count the stars until our legs were too wobbly to stand.
As we layed our body down in the bed at the end of each day, each tired muscle relaxed as the bed simply embraced us forever. No noise from light or hustle, just the soft glow from the stars, and the rise and fall of the ocean waves in the distance, whispering goodnight.
We didn’t ever want to leave. If you are ever in the Tofino area, I highly recommend checking out this place.
This question seems fitting, on the day of thanksgiving. I have so many things to be grateful for.
Yet, so often get lost in misery, I don’t feel very visionary. I focus on what’s going wrong, instead of turning to grateful chivalry.
Like when I look around this city, there are so many beautiful things to see, and I have a family that loves me.
I am fit and able, capable of so many things, and there is always food sitting on my makeshift table.
I have my wits about me, though very nearly, never went fully crazy.
Yes, the smoking is bad, but I’m grateful for the opportunity to be able to take a silent moment in chaos, and actually thank society.
Like, did you know? I’m super grateful for you. Yes, you, the one with eyes that’s reading free. See, I don’t say thank you enough, because it’s you, that’s actually teaching me to be, and sometimes that scares me.
Yes it might be cheesy, if nothing but cliche, I’m grateful for the sun and moon. For everyday, I get to sleep till noon, in a brand new bed with tons of blankets, even if there is no other spoon.
So on this day of Thanksgiving, the one that you are living, what are you grateful for?
Hi. How are you? Are you enjoying the fall weather? I hope so. Are you living your dream? I hope so.
I mean, I am. Ever since I could walk, I’d grab the broom and sweep the floor. “Ma?” I’d say, “I going to be a janito!”
Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good job. Scrubbing strangers poop particle stains off the porcelain, sweeping up some scattered crumbs off the floor from what looks like a sugar donut, dancing down the aisles cuz I’m bored, and probably singing too loud, while dumping garbage’s and shining desks. Sounds glamorous doesn’t it?
Ok, so probably not the dream. But, my bank account is happy. Ish.
I’m in the rebuilding stage in my life, and for the most part, these self discovery moments are enlightening. I figured out the top of my head has got to be lopsided… every time I put my hair up, it tends to slide down to one side. Every. Single. Time.
I’m finding sleeping alone is actually awesome. I get to spread out on the single mattress without kicking someone, and hog all the blankets and no one complains.
If the morning smoothy is lumpy, or I happen to burn supper cuz I was distracted, there’s no other stomach beside me yelling it’s hungry… I just redo it, or walk to the closest dairy queen to settle my own. I can pee with the door open, and don’t have to shave my legs for weeks! Yup, single life is awesome.
I decided what I want to be when I grow up. I’m going to be a free spirit. A wild horse running through the trees, and no one will be able to tame me. That way, life will always be awesome, and if I get too bored, I can just run away. I spend most of my time alone anyway. I find the characters in my head are a lot nicer then most of the ones I meet on the street. The ones in my head might say stupid things, but if I don’t believe them, or they’re being ignorant, I can just put them in the corner and not talk to them for a while and they don’t get offended. Ok, they do, but there’s a silent button I can turn on, like muting the TV, I can stay entertained without all the noise.
Although, through all the great days, I have some days when the loneliness hits me like a freight train, and I can’t seem to uncurl myself from my bed. That all this cleaning is somewhat soul draining and I find myself sighing for the “one day” wishes. But I’m getting there. This mound of debt is slowly being chipped away, my heart is stronger, and my mind… well, my mind is still crazy, not sure anything is going to change that.
I guess the point of all this is to tell you… and remind myself, keep going. Keep plugging away reaching for the goal, and if you’re not yet living your dream, keep focusing on the goal. If you persevere, I promise you’ll get there. If you’re already living your dream, well, good for you. “One day”, I’ll definitely be living mine. One step at a time. Even if it takes a while, I’m not about to give up.
I’m sorry to anyone who has to deal with me in the mornings. After two cups of coffee, I’m still sleepy eyed and tongue tied… even more then normal.
All you bushy eyed, wide smile, cheerful morning people say, “Friend! The sun is hope! A new chance, a slow quiet dance, put on your big girl pants, maybe today you’ll find romance!”
See, romance is the longing, but romance is rare. As common as a bear, wondering the streets of this city. It happens, but only on a dare.
Maybe someone who is desperate, will wager a glance, but very few, will pick up the lance, get on the horse and all the heavy metal gear, wiggle the helmet tighter, be a warrior and roar. Lunging forward with all his soul and might, absorbing risk with action, valiant of a King. But most, won’t risk the blow.
Just let me sit here, alone, and drink another cup of coffee.
So I’m sorry to anyone who has to deal with me in the mornings.
Usually the grump in me is the first to be awake. Bringing out the worst, like devil stares and solemn glares. Just wants to curl up and protest, the whole damn way. When logic appears, usually after two cups of coffee, hope seems a tiny bit restored. Maybe I will get my chance, maybe I will find romance.
I guess there is no way to know, unless I get out of bed, put clothes on instead, and maybe down another cup of coffee.
See, it’s in the mornings where my insecurities live. Doubt creeps in, and I think I’m not good enough, that maybe I’m not pretty enough, or probably too weird. I sometimes have to wait for logic to awake, so she can tell me how beautiful I really am. That weird is good, and standing out in a crowd, is usually the best bet anyway. After two cups of coffee, I can look in the mirror with confidence, and see how awesome I really am.
Cuz we’re all beautiful, in our own unique way, and I said that weird thing because I didn’t know what else to say. It’s time to embrace each breath, each moment, take that chance, and give it all you’ve got.
So if you catch me in the morning, before two cups of coffee, I’m sorry, you’ll probably see the grumpy side of me. Just hand me some coffee, sit and wait, and it’ll all be ok.
“Maybe you should try being a little less… you.” He looks at me with disdain. “I just don’t think people can handle all of… this.” He flips his hand to move alongside my body with a horrific facial expression. He huffs, and walks away.
I can feel the tears, rolling down my cheeks.
See, a second ago I felt like I was good enough, that I was pretty and tough. Enough, I thought that I was enough.
I heard you when you said someone else did it faster, better, smarter, longer, higher, cheaper. Someone else was sweeter. My words were a little harsh. Don’t get angry, don’t get mad. And laugh just a little bit quieter, and don’t wear that shirt, it makes you look a little bit fluffier.
I’m trying so hard to fit in. Well, that’s what I tell myself. Secretly, I’m just doing what I really want to do. I don’t really like city living. Or hate, I hate city living. Eyes everywhere, nobody giving. Don’t act too weird, someone can see you and snear, and your voice, they certainly don’t want to hear. I’m sure by now I’ve made it into at least a couple dozen security videos. Probably celebrity status by now. Though for most people, I’m just a little bit too weird.
I desperately needed a holiday, a break away from all this city life. So, by chance, I checked Airbnb to see what I could find.
The photo: was of a campsite, tucked away in the backwoods, just outside of Vernon. My heart did a leap. The caption, “Free roaming cows and horses are the only traffic jam here”. That’s your traffic jam? I was hooked. Wild cows? Please, sign me up!
A private campsite called MC-7.
I backed my work van into this gorgeous little site, huge firepit, a jug of water, and nothing but the trees softly rumbling. All alone under the shining stars. So quiet, I could hear the stars twinkling, and my lungs breathing, the firepit crackling, and the coyotes howling. A few scattered fellow campers, but nothing like the city life sardine packed can. Here, I could find my thoughts.
Life was pretty good in that moment.
True to the ad, on the way up, I passed a couple horses along the side of the road. A little ways up, I caught a glimpse of the cow crew. A bunch of black cows, chilling under the tree right beside the road. Hey friends.
When I left, I saw them again. This time, there was a brown cow hanging out. Standing tall, looking at me all tough, like he’s the leader of this crew. I’ll definitely see you again, Slick. For a second, I held his gaze.
My second time up there, not one cow on the roads! I even went for walks to try and find them…sigh, maybe they forgot about me.
Then, my second morning there, I was blissfully enjoying a lazy morning in my bed, and I heard a ruckus. What the fuck are the neighbors doing? So I get up to look… and the whole crew of cows are standing right in front of my van! Hello friends!!
Awesome, what a way to start the day!
So I get up, put on the slippers, glance down to make sure I’m at least dressed half way appropriate, go say good morning, and chase them off the property. Cutie lil cows. So, I wrote this….
……….. I made a friend today, I call him, Bear, cuz, well, he looks like a bear. I met him on the drive up, he didn’t look all that tough.
But I have to admit, the cows caught my attraction first. I wanted to stop, offer some salt sticks, and give them all names.
Something ridiculous like, the brown one would be called Slick, he was prime of the pick. Solid, though a little bit sketchy. His mooing is a little bit derogatory, and despite being warned, repeatedly enters hostile territory.
The black one beside him, the one with the attitude, always nodding her head like she’s protesting gratitude, her name is Slim, though it really doesn’t describe her physical aptitude.
The rest of the crew have names that are normal for cows, like Cassidy and Harry, Gloria and Jim. They’re just the support crew, following along with Slick and Slim.
Welcome to Man Camp, lot seven, where the King is in charge. Please check out by ten, and yes, please, do come back often.
………… Phenomenal place, phenomenal host. Best Airbnb I’ve ever been at. If you’re ever around the Vernon, BC area, I highly suggest checking it out!
Standing in the middle of a crowd, in the middle of this city, I feel like a simple shadow.
Glanced at, barely recognizable, indistinguishable, a walk by, a dot, something so unimportant, each glance is inadvisable. A shadow in this world makes no difference, and once the world goes dark, I am no longer there. People walk by, I am seen, but virtually invisible.
Some days I crave to remake this life, these choices, these steps walked, each decision that got me to this exact moment in time and space.
Maybe I would have made better choices.
I know what you’re saying, and if I was still praying, I’d probably believe it too. “Trust me, you won’t be a shadow forever!” And “this too, shall pass.”
But see, my words come out all jumbled, and I never say the right thing. I sometimes stumble when I walk… trip over giant nonexistant boulders, that sort of thing. Do you see me? Yes, I’m here. Maybe my voice isn’t loud enough. Maybe that stranger ran into me because I didn’t say excuse me. Or maybe I’m just walking through bear country, quiter than a mouse, creating this fake illusion, of a shadow unseen.
But I hide when people see me, and run in the other direction when there’s a simple connection. Like there’s a misfire between my thoughts, my mouth, and my soul.
I’m tired of standing still, waiting for the sun to warm me, waiting for this shadow to become tangible. I’m tired of crying, of lying, of this feeling of slowly dying.
If you see me, will you take my hand? I long to feel the tingle of your embrace, and I am so exhausted from running this race alone.
As I stare down the silver can of red bull, waiting for the sugar, taurine, caffeine and vitamins to hit my system and give me promised wings, I sigh.
Life is not supposed to be this way. Days fueled by fake energy… caffeine and candy. 35 hours of work, and I’m only half way through thursday.
The clock ticks like a metrodome, steady and constant, but some days, it feels like it slows.
I don’t remember eating breakfast today, or even leaving the house. I know I had eggs, because the dirty pan is still on the stove. Then, half way to my destination, I realized I forgot my phone. I found it tucked into my bed and almost said “fuck it”, I wanted to lay down with it, and bury my woes.
How do you write about a janitor job and a borrowed car? It’s not like I’m a star, a borrowed car, a bottle in a jar. While everyone goes home and undresses, I head out and clean everyone’s messes.
Lifes current aspiration, be a damn good janitor, and drive the company car!
Today, in total, I cleaned 15 toilets. On bended knee, like bowing to a king on his throne, scrubbed until I was a drone. Removed the brown and yellow stains, and called it a day.
I wish I could hurry up time, need the dime, but feel like a mime. I want to fast forward to the end of this year. But doesn’t feel like I’m getting anywhere near.
While some people strive in all this chaos, I like to take it a little bit slower.
Island time, mountain time, the small parts of the universe that time, is just time. The places where you go, and simply sit and watch the trees flow, sit, and wait for the snow, go slow, take time to grow.
On shaky legs, I walk this land, creeping pretty close the edge. Working hard, but I guess I’m just searching for the right motivation. I know I’ll get there, but need to keep the daily dedication.
I think the wings are here, kinda feels like I’m flying. Ok, back to work, toilet number 16, no, I’m not lying.