Conversation: Episode One

Imran: There's a dark place in my mind where fat people reside.

Justin: Man, you white people got owned.
Jon: Actually, black people got owned. Literally.

Justin: Cabasil? In milkshakes?
Jon: Yeah, it's also the stuff they put in diapers.
Justin: I eat a lot of diapers.
Jon: Maybe you should try taking them off the baby first.

Justin: You can be ho, or mo. Pick one.
Marco: ho.
Justin: Why you would pick that one is beyond my understanding.

Jon: I'm white, I know my boats.
Justin: I'm Chinese. Boats only mean freedom to me.

Random guy: Hey, close your eyes, I'm going to show you my secret handshake.
Colin: Oh no, he's going to pull out his penis.

Jon: Jesus could turn water into wine.
Justin: I can turn beer into pee.

Lisa: This tastes like I'm drinking a tree.

Justin: I play video games like your mom sucks dick. Fast, hard, and obsessively.

Jon: Alright, let's go. I gotta go home and beat the fire turtle.
Justin: Hahaha, with your Dragon sword!
Jon: Hahaha, with my Dragon fang and Tiger claw!

Imran: So I was mowing my lawn and I ran over a butterfly. It was sad, but I was thinking how it was a metaphor for progress. You know, stand in the way of progress and you get crushed.
Justin: ...
Imran: (five minutes later) But goddamn, my lawn looked nice though.

Justin: I once almost kissed a girl. But then she woke up. And then I woke up.

Justin: But the Daedalus has Asgard technology.
Jon: Yeah, but the Enterprise will just use its matter transporters and fucking beam the Daedalus' engines into space. Point.
Josh: You guys are fucking sad.

Justin: Son.
Jim: I'm older than you.
Justin: Trouble with a time machine and a contraceptive.

Katrina: You're a hobo. A mad, mad vagrant.
Justin: Why thank you. You smell like old people and soap!

Justin: You hot.
Aaron: ...
Justin: You HOST. Host. That was a bad typo.

Justin: I love Diablo II.
Westley: RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY! This is for you. HELP!
Justin: Forgive me! DIE! TIME TO DIE! FOLLOW ME!

Alex: SON!
Lisa: Son! Aw DAMMIT!
Justin: (jumping out from behind Alex) SON!
Lisa: ARRGHHH FUCK YOU GUYS!

Justin: Hey, you know that Corn Nuts snack?
Aaron: Yeah?
Justin: So how do they make those? Do they chop the testicles off poor helpless corn?
Aaron: Holy shit.

Justin: They are the best.
Aaron: They are the bestest.
Justin: Bestestes. Bes Testes!
Aaron: That is a king one-liner, because only a king is allowed to say it.
Justin. The King of the Bes Testes?
Aaron: Or just King Bes Testes.
Justin: That is our new mascot.

Aaron: I don't know what lactose does to lactose intolerant people.
Justin: It turns them into Bes Testes.

Aaron: Do we have a zombie quarantine room?
Justin: I got one. It's a little small though. Hold down the lid and flush.

Nicole: Brb, I'm going to make a hotdog. And think of you.
Justin: It's not a tiny one, right? Or I'll go buy some yeast and think of you.

Justin: Brb, poop.

Justin: I got a girlfriend.
Nicole: Does she know you're going to eat her heart eventually?

Nicole: And so he calls me.
Justin: Wow. Is he hot? Does he have abs like Superman? Are his hands big and not sweaty at all? Does he use his spit for hair gel? CAN HE STRANGLE A COBRA WITH HIS DICK? CAN HE FLY?
Nicole: Yes. Yes he can fly.

Nicole: I'll steal your cherry.
Justin: Are you going to mail me a fucking pussy?
Nicole: Yes.
Justin: That would be weird. Especially if my mom got the mail first.

John: Miss, can you get my friend a napkin? He's emo, I don't want him to cut himself.
Waitress: Yeah, sure, I wouldn't want him to cry.
Justin: Johnny, you're a fucking dick.

Jacq: Gerengtee can wan. No probrem.
Justin: Aiya can cannot lah.
Jacq: Yes, must repeat words wan, then only can really really understand one.
Justin: I have the sudden urge to strip down to my underwear and drive a motorbike down to the transvestite hawker stall to buy some satay. Then go back to my shop, where I sell toys and cigarettes, with my portable fan and incense sticks.

Justin: That's the best idea I've heard all day. But considering the fact that I just woke up...

Justin: I woke up, said "Fuck class" and went back to sleep.
Jacq: Yeah I know. But it makes me feel better saying it.
Justin: It makes me feel better saying I'm Spiderman, but it doesn't make it true. Sadly.

Justin: What do they do with the foreskins? Do they keep them in a jar? Do they smell them? Do they put them on a little string and wear them around their -
Jay: No. You need to stop talking now.

Justin: I wonder if there are foreskin vampires that swoop down and bite people's foreskins off.
Jay: I need to put this conversation on facebook.

Leanne: Why can't the world just end so nothing will exist?
Justin: Because then you wouldn't be around to complain about it.

Shane: Hey. Hello. Hey.
Shane: Hi. How are you?
Shane: How is everything?
Shane: What's up?
Shane: How's Mac?
Shane: Nice. Sweet.
Shane: Nice talking to you. We should do it again sometime.

Justin: If there's one thing I've learned, it's don't be Dan.
Squirt: Dan?
Justin: Dan. Dan the garbage man. Be Pat.
Squirt: Pat?
Justin: Postman Pat. Postman Pat and his Black and White Cat.

Justin: 4 people I know died in the last month.
Squirt: Geeze.
Justin: That's a new record. Like they say in Smash Bros.

Justin: 9.0 on my prelab?! If this was Dancing with Stars MAYBE I'd be happy.

Jenn: I'm leaving at noon and getting back at 11:30.
Justin: Where exactly do you live? China?

Jenn: Avez vous un partinaire for p03 excel shizzle?
Justin: O_o
Jenn: Translation: do you have a partner for the p03 excel shit.
Justin: Oui. Ah em veree sorree?
Jenn: You speak French so well!
Justin: ARRRGGGHHHH A MONGOOSE GOT ME



And that's the end of episode one. Be back later for more of my stupid, stupid life.

Lines

Bloo bloo blah blah lookit me I'm Justin I'm so smart but can't figure out how to keep raccoons away from my garbage bins bloo blargh blee blah bloo.

Ironically, the one time I want to go home is the one time no one is free to pick me up.

I don't know how many people actually read this slice-of-life blog on a regular basis.

Justin says:
I told a random stranger to protect his family today.
Justin says:
My life has gotten fucked up.
quynh says:
y you did that?
Justin says:
It was funny.
Justin says:
Lol.
quynh says:
how?
Justin says:
I don't know. I'm so alone.

In addition, it's a good thing human girls don't have venomous stingers, huh?

Or do they?! Man, if that's true, we dudes are all screwed. Literally.

By big fucking stingers in the ass.

Whew

A recap of the last few days:

Friday's exam went reasonably well, although the material was a lot harder than what was on the regular tests. It figures that our prof would quite literally dick us over by instilling a false sense of security throughout the year. I'm sure I still passed the course, which is a relief because if I ever have to take that motherfucking sonabitch class ever again I'll have to falcon punch a mongoose in the face.

After that tragedy of an exam, I made an appearance at WestEnd, and opted for a glass of water instead of alcohol (see previous posts). I didn't see any point in staying, so leaving the bar early, I hung out with Jon, James and Imran, and then spent an hour helping Imran look for his lost car keys (which happened to have fallen into the couch).

Yesterday (Saturday) was the yearly event known as Catapult, where we decide on Frosh Week themes and events. It was held at Brant Park, and although the weather was supposed to be shit, it cleared up and I spent the day swimming (the water was frigid like your mother's kiss) and playing ultimate frisbee (where Jon inadvertently did the splits). As promised, I brought my guitar and spent a good solid hour making music with my friends.

Unfortunately, things went slightly downhill at the night's kegger. I contemplated skipping it, considering the fact that I wasn't drinking, but I decided to go to meet some new people, especially the new Reds that I'll be working with this September. First off, I broke the G-string on my guitar (thereby becoming a cheap joke), then spent the rest of the night running after people as usual. I was reasonably upset by the number of problems that went down, mainly the typical relationship issues, magnified by alcohol.

I mean, seriously, things are so overly dramatic. I know it's pretty hypocritical of me to say this, considering my life is a veritable whirlwind of drama, but people need to learn some control. There are a number of people who lose themselves, and alcohol aside, they really should know better. I mean, if you have a girlfriend, flirting with other women isn't really helping things, and on top of that, you can't blame someone else for your own behaviour, right? And if you regret sleeping with that guy, why would you do it again? Considering the fact that I was the one you spent an hour ranting to, it would be a pretty dick move to do it AGAIN. Your actions affected my mood, and a lot of first years noticed I was being somewhat of a dick because of it. I don't like letting my mood affect others - I usually make it a point to hide my feelings but last night was just a LOT.

Thanks a lot to Jackie for giving me a little bit of an ego boost, even though I'm definitely not as nice as you make me out to be. Also to Spackman, for giving me the 'sit down and stop caring' talk, even though I might not have listened. And Udit, for doing what needed to be done in my place. And of course, to all of the rest of you that were just there for me. There's a lot of shit going on my life right now and I'm glad some people truly appreciate me for me.

And that is that. I spent the day cleaning my house, because I'm going home tomorrow. I'm going to fucking miss Hamilton.

You Trust This Guy?

The current state of my life:

Exam on Friday which I'm having trouble studying for. Fell down the stairs last night. Talking to girl whose boyfriend is a possible dick. Talking to boy whose ex-boyfriend is a definite dick. Talking to boy whose friends are possible dicks (including me, sorry). Need a haircut. Room smells like birdshit. Dishes need washing. Incomplete job applications. Office needs cleaning.

I think I need to write the following essay for everybody. Check it out:

=======
Justin says:
I kind of hate to say this... but if he knew you well enough, you wouldn't have to say anything. He'd just know.
Justin says:
Compromise needs to work both ways.
Justin says:
Don't ever change yourself into someone you're not.
***@hotmail.com says:
but I did
***@hotmail.com says:
and I can't seem to make him see me otherwise... I completely lost myself this year
=======

I think people inherently know the right thing to do. The problem is finding the courage to do it. Sometimes life can get really confusing and terrible, but giving up is pointless. Death may come eventually, but accelerating the process is a dumb idea. Difficulty makes the heart grow stronger. Don't ever forget that the least person has a place in someone's heart, and though you might not see it, you're important.

We'll never be perfect. People who say they've fulfilled every one of their goals are the walking dead - they don't have anything left to strive for. There is no way you'll ever reach all your goals, because you'll keep setting new ones. It's how we grow as people. The day you're satisfied with yourself is the day you die because really, what else is there to do? Remember that when you think you've failed - there's no such thing as failure, because every step backwards is a learning experience. Hope is useless, you can't rely on hope because nothing will ever get done. The only way shit will happen is if you stop hoping and start doing.

The uber-hotdog won't make your life perfect, but it's pretty damn close.

=======
justinsma@gmail.com Man, c'mon. What are you afraid of?
***@gmail.com like...ppl treating me differently
justinsma@gmail.com HAHAHAHA
justinsma@gmail.com Man, some people, maybe
justinsma@gmail.com but c'mon, me?
justinsma@gmail.com I'm a freak anyways
=======

Relax. Life is life. There's nothing we can do to change the past. The only thing that matters is NOW, and what you're going to do about it. I may be a huge hypocrite, but remember: you can't change the past, but you can ruin the future by worrying about it. This applies for everybody, whether they choose to accept it or not. Difficulties make you a better person.

You're trusting this guy with your problems?

There are a million things I can say to you all, but ultimately, the decision is yours. I can only advise, I can't tell you what to do, or force you down the right path. People who say they know what to do are liars, and anyways, being perfect is overrated. In any case, I'm not a professional psychiatrist, but I'll do my best to be there when shit hits the fan.

I love you guys but sometimes you can be huge idiots =)


P.S. I find it slightly depressing that you guys are coming to ME for help. Me, the depressed jackass who has a noted and well-documented history of licking cats and taking pictures of crotches. What the hell is wrong with you?

P.S.S. Andrew and Shani are right, my bones are fucking brittle. Look at my wrists! They're like pencils!

Back Again

Okay. The ordeal is over, and now I'm back to my usual sassy and bass-ackward self.

Summer school is almost done, and I'm going back to Sauga <3 very soon. Chances are, I'll grab a short-term job before flying my ass all the way to Vancouver for my cousin's wedding. I also found out that Spirit of the West and a number of fantastic artists are playing on Jericho Beach, just a short ride from the hotel *thumbs up* on July 20th, a few days after I arrive. On top of that, I am apparently being kidnapped to go rock climbing with Mr. Shim. Looking forward to breaking my arms.

I learned how to play the song 'Still Alive' from Portal. The cake is a lie! I'm contemplating playing it with Ms. Howe and perhaps Mr. Heywood at Westend. Which brings me to my next point: my guitar will be making an appearance at Catapult (our Red summer event) on the special request of Mike Everson (I lost the Game). Hopefully it'll draw me away from the alcohol craziness that will undoubtedly go down that night. Since I'm not drinking anymore, I think I should stay away from the influence - peer pressure and all that shit. Gahblahblahblah.

Life is definitely looking up. Maybe it's just the contrast to the last few weeks, but I've become more goal oriented lately. No more fucking around doing useless shit, I'm setting out what I want to do and then by Gandhi I'm going to execute it. This involves learning contact juggling, doing a backflip, wall-running, playing Freebird's solo, and by the end of summer I'm going to be MacGuyver. You have my word. And my bow. And my axe. /lotr reference

You should have used the Pythagorean theorem... BITCH! HALALALALALA!!!



P.S. I've been really crazy lately. I blame it on my mental state. I take no responsibility for the following actions which I may or may not have done: excessive texting, swearing in chinese, trying to climb a wall with my face, breaking the strap holder on my guitar, repeated internet memes, stabbing Mark Hayman, buying a Nintendo DS, beating Guitar Hero on hard difficulty, eating a can of wasabi peas, trying to combine Mac and Cheese with chili beans, falling out of love, falling back in love, falling in general, talking to birds, drinking too much water then needing to go pee badly, watching Don't Mess with the Zohan with Quynh, chasing centipedes with a vacuum cleaner, writing horrible poetry, being morose, dipping oreos in whiskey, torture of barbie dolls, modifying of nerf guns, constructing a steampunk watch, inviting strangers to my house, inviting non-strangers to my house, playing with swords in my backyard, walking around at midnight wearing all-black clothing, writing sad letters then crumpling them up, devouring bowls of ice cream, organizing my sock drawer, folding my bedsheets twice, letting people draw on my arms, hanging out with GTCMNC, eating soup with a fork, and so on. NOT MY FAULT.

/ignore

Please ignore the previous post because I was being a whiny bitch. Everything is back under control.

No More of This SHIT

I went to see that Zohan movie with Quynh today, and we ended up talking afterwards at a park. I can give out advice to everyone but myself, so when things fuck up in my life, I turn to my friends.

Life still hurts. Father's Day sucks just as much, considering it's a week after. But let me set things straight here: I'm not a victim. I'm a survivor, and there's no way I'm taking shit lying down.

100% seriously, wow. Not a single one of my so-called 'friends' decided to check up on me, except the ones that matter most. Thanks though, I'm fine. It's bullshit, you know? After events, I spend the time to text and say, "Hey, did you get home okay?" and only a small handful even respond. But when I walk a fucking hour back to my house while piss drunk, who cares? I COULD DIE AND NOT ONE OF YOU WOULD NOTICE.

No, I don't get mad easily. But I spend my life and my time dedicated to my friends, and BULLSHIT if anyone gives a fuck about me. Yeah sure, I'll skip out on parties to spend time with those that need me, but does it even matter? 5 seconds out of your undoubtedly busy life to check if I'm still alive and I can count the number of those people on one hand. Thanks for being there! Yeah, really! I REALLY APPRECIATE THE FUCKING EFFORT.

No, my standards aren't high. I don't expect much from my friends. I'm happy just to have friends. But use me and abuse me and I'll fucking break our bond like a twig. I'm not your tool, and I'm definitely not your toy. I'm fed up of all of you. Yeah, I have friends I haven't spoken to in years, but I know they're my friends. How? First of all, they value me as a person, not an object, and I swear that my real friends will read this blog and come give me a hug, either real or virtual. Because I'm in a fucking mess right now.

Oh, yeah, sure, Justin's cool but he's a closet friend - he's only my friend when no one else is around. Well, fuck you. I get it. Out of all the fish in the sea, why pick the broken one, right? Thanks guys, I'll just sit at home, dealing with shit like a grown-up, while you fucking party it up. Yes, I'm immensely jealous - none of you have to deal with the crap of being a father figure in your sister's life, or fixing the things your dad would normally do, and the millions of other things that just suck in general. WHOOP DE FUCKING DOO.

I got drunk one night, and one of my friends dragged me to his house, gave me a garbage bin, a loaf of bread, a glass of water, and let me crash on his couch. Another friend drove a full hour, round-trip to Hamilton, to pick me up so I could see my sick grandma. Someone else gave up a full night of sleep to stay in the park with me while I just let my heart out. A number of my friends spend every day with me for a year going to McDonald's and wherever the hell we felt like going and we never got sick of each other. Another spent over a year planning a graphic novel with me, spilling our hearts onto the paper. One of my friends has stuck with me since the day we were born. The ones who sit with me when I ditch a party that disturbs me. THERE ARE A HANDFUL OF PEOPLE LIKE THAT: FUCKING RIGHT THOSE ARE MY FRIENDS AND THE REST OF YOU BASTARDS ARE ASSHOLES.

Yes, this is a rant. It's a huge rant. I'm fucking pissed off at the world this weekend, and the changing loyalties of my friends. I'm sick of you. I'm sick of smiling and dealing with your problems and then getting left in the dirt. I can only hope that when I graduate, I'll go where my heart leads me while you guys are still stuck back in fucksville, making out like high school kids on Ecstasy. GROW UP.

I wonder if any of you even think of me when you're out having a blast. I've bent over backwards to prove my friendship - what have you done to prove yours? Fucking hate you. Best part is, you won't notice a thing. I'll keep on smiling and laughing and you won't know how much I hate you.


That's it. GTCNCNC is right. I'm going to watch the sunrise. Eat my cereal. Lie awake in bed. The small things in life will be my muse. Sand through my toes and the sky over my head. I don't need people in my life. The world, and my place in it, will be enough.

Reaching Out

Problem.

I'm slowly getting really sick of the 'politics' of friendship. There's just so much backstabbing and hurt going around, and it's making me twitch. I spent 3 hours the other day talking to a friend who is slowly giving up on life, because her friends decided to drop her like a bad egg. I don't like seeing my friends hurt.

Observation: popularity has its cons. A lot of people I know are popular, whether they know it or not. They don't need to find friends - friends come to them. The phone rings every day for these people, inviting them out to lunch, or to the bar, etc etc. That's not a bad thing, it's good to have friends, and I'm not arguing that. No, it's when these people lose track of themselves that it starts to bother me immensely.

Yay POPULAR!

Being popular results in a lot of attention. You can be attractive, or rich, or cool, or just plain friendly. People will flock to you like flies to honey. Sooner or later, someone will call and invite you out. Everyone clamors for your attention, to have some time to spend with you. Basically, you don't need to try to find friends, because they come to you. With all the events flying at you, you tend to forget people. It's just a fact I've noticed.

I've been slowly rising up the social ladder recently. With my new Plumbline position, I've had a number of strangers call my name across the room, and I'm always pleasantly surprised. Being a Red, I've met a lot of people too, and I'm slowly becoming 'popular'. It's scary but I'm kind of liking it. People know who I am, which is pretty cool.

But I've been at the bottom of the pile. I remember being in high school, waiting for weeks, without ever going out. Sitting alone during lunch. Spending nights alone in a cold backyard, wishing someone would call and say, "Hey, let's hang out." But not until the end did I ever find friends. No, I wasn't popular at all. I was a loser. A nerd, geek, freak. No one ever called me, and I was too scared to reach out.

HAPPY HAPPY JOY JOY

I'm determined not to lose track of who I am, no matter how high I rise. When I go out, I'll skim through my contact list and run by all the cool kids. I'll pick people who are like me, alone and in the dark, waiting for that call to brighten their week. To make an effort to contact those that really would value friendship. I won't lose sight of everyone else - I promise.

So sue me. I'm an idiot. But I'll be an idiot with friends.

People like this should not be allowed in public.

Edit: Big thanks to those other retards that brought me up out of my misery. You know who you are. FOOD RUN!

Synopsis of a Day

Woke up at noon, went outside and tore up the lawn exercising. Called Kath n' Linds and met them in Westdale for a pita. Saw their house, obviously nicer than the old one, but too far to stalk them anymore (sorry girls). Went back home and Alex was there with a few friends. He sonned me and we played some Guitar Hero. We went to Tim Hortons and I bought an ice cap and some timbits. We drove up to Spencer Gorge (see facebook photos) and had an adventure. Afterwards, we went to Montfort's and had an awesome dinner. I laughed a lot and kept myself busy, but I have a test tomorrow which I will most likely phail.

It was a good day.

Tomorrow I'll wake up at 10, eat a tasty breakfast consisting of Frosted Flakes and lasagna, go outside and do some flips, go back inside and play some (real) guitar, go to class, study, fail my test, then bus home to Sauga for my Sat morning eye doctor's appointment. Not counting all the craaaaaazyyyy adventures I will most likely have in between. A WINNER IS ME!

40 Tips for 2008

(Thanks to Bianca for forwarding this to me. Great advice as follows)

1. Take a 10-30 minute walk every day. And while you walk, smile. It is the ultimate anti-depressant.

2. Sit in silence for at least 10 minutes each day. Buy a lock if you have to.

3. Buy a DVR and tape your late night shows and get more sleep.

4. When you wake up in the morning complete the following statement, 'My purpose is to __________ today.'

5. Live with the 3 E's -- Energy, Enthusiasm, and Empathy.

6. Play more games and read more books than you did in 2007.

7. Make time to practice meditation, yoga, tai chi, and prayer. They provide us with daily fuel for our busy lives.

8. Spend more time with people over the age of 70 and under the age of 6.

9. Dream more while you are awake.

10. Eat more foods that grow on trees and plants and eat less food that is manufactured in plants.

11. Drink green tea and plenty of water. Eat blueberries, wild Alaskan salmon, broccoli, almonds & walnuts.

12. Try to make at least three people smile each day.

13. Clear clutter from your house, your car, your desk and let new and flowing energy into your life.

14. Don't waste your precious energy on gossip, energy vampires, issues of the past, negative thoughts or things you cannot control. Instead invest your energy in the positive present moment.

15. Realize that life is a school and you are here to learn. Problems are simply part of the curriculum that appear and fade away like algebra class but the lessons you learn will last a lifetime.

16. Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dinner like a college kid with a maxed out charge card.

17. Smile and laugh more. It will keep the energy vampires away.

18. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.

19. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.

20. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.

21. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.

22. Make peace with your past so it won't spoil the present.

23. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.

24. No one is in charge of your happiness except you.

25. Frame every so-called disaster with these words: 'In five years, will this matter?'

26. Forgive everyone for everything.

27. What other people think of you is none of your business.

28. GOD heals almost everything.

29. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.

30. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends will. Stay in touch.

31. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.

32. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.

33. The best is yet to come.

34. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.

35. Do the right thing!

36. Call your family often.

37. Each night before you go to bed complete the following statements: I am thankful for __________. Today I accomplished _________.

38. Remember that you are too blessed to be stressed.

39. Enjoy the ride. Remember this is not Disney World and you certainly don't want a fast pass. You only have one ride through life so make the most of it and enjoy the ride.

40. Please forward this to your friends.

The Aftermath

I spent 10 minutes looking at the word higher trying to figure out what hig-her meant. Fuck.

After inviting a number of people to come over and play with my Wii (no, that joke's not funny anymore, I know) and getting no response, I went out for a walk. The weather was light, sunny but breezy, and I contemplated the use of a jacket before deciding that was for n00bs. Went down to the school, fell asleep watching 'How It's Made' and then went home.

The above paragraph has a point, although it may seem random. I've been feeling apathetic lately (just recent events, see previous post) and it's causing me to behave really irrationally. I spent 4 hours swatting flies in my house (I think someone left food out) and then played Guitar Hero for a while, before playing real guitar. I ate an entire can of wasabi peas and devoured a plate of plain bread. My mind is wandering like a hitchhiker in the Appalachians.

Last week Friday I went out to WestEnd and Bianca's housewarming party, and I've never gotten drunker in my life. Lesson learned: never let Big D mix you a drink. I ended up sleeping on Jon's couch, throwing up and furiously swearing in Chinese. I probably said a number of things I wouldn't have said otherwise, and now Ashley (bartender at WestEnd) probably thinks I'm retarded. It was a bad move on my part and I think I'm going to cut myself off from alcohol for a while. Drinking to escape problems is a stupid thing to do and I went way overboard trying to forget.

So yeah. As of late, my behaviour has been really stupid and I've done a lot of things I wouldn't have done otherwise. I hate apologizing for it again, but I'm sorry. It's just beyond my control, and I'm probably going to be this way at least until Father's Day (which is pretty shit in itself too). I promise I'll be back on my feet eventually, but until then you guys are going to have to put up with my bullshit.

Last thing of note: Vote for Optimus Prime.

8 Years

Deathcab AND Stars are playing today in downtown T.O. and I'm sure it's fucking amazing. But I won't be there. There's too much at stake this weekend.

***

I'm in my living room, staring mindlessly out the window. The day is beautiful - there's sunlight, birds singing, not a cloud in sight - but there's nothing the weather can do to chase away the shadows inside. I sigh, turning away from the outside, and close my eyes for a few seconds.

A loud crack breaks the silence, snapping my eyelids open. At first, the source of the noise isn't apparent, but as I look around, my own reflection catches my eye in the glass. A long gash runs up the side of my face, from temple to jawline, reflected with shuddering detail in the windowpanes.

I reach up with a shaking hand and run my finger along the gap. There's no blood, but as my fingertip touches the crack, it quickly propagates across my face. Within seconds, my reflection is scored with jagged lines, as if my body is falling apart. I hold my breath, and I can hear my heart pounding underneath my shirt. I'm afraid to move.

I gasp, a tiny intake of air, but that's all it takes. Pieces of my skin start falling away - not down, as dictated by gravity, but up, towards the ceiling. Like wallpaper and sand, my body erases itself, and I watch my reflection in horror as something moves under my rapidly dissolving skin.

And it's not just me. The yellow paint on the wall cracks and turns to dust, and a dusty shade of pink appears underneath, a pink I recognize. My heart seizes. Not now. Not this. Like ashes blown by a chill wind, the room begins to erode.

I look at my reflection again. There's something underneath my skin. With trembling fingers I brush the pieces away from my face, unveiling whatever is hiding below. At first I don't understand what I'm seeing, but as the face of a 12-year-old boy is uncovered, I almost scream.

It's me. I look at myself in the window's cold reflection, a version of me from 8 years in the past. I press my fingertips against the glass and my mirror image does the same. The room is still changing around me - furniture is rearranged, paint flies away, decorations resort themselves. It's like being in a time machine, except I know exactly where I'm going, and I don't want to.

Everything stops. I'm breathing heavily, looking at my small hands in disbelief. My reflection stares back at me, wide-eyed and grim-faced. The room is pink, dusty, and unorganized, exactly as I remember it. Everything is the way it was that day. 8 years.

I hear footsteps, and I look up. My heart stops because I know what's coming, I know exactly what's coming, and it's going to be the hardest thing to endure. I close my eyes and still my trembling fingers. I need to be strong. That's what they all said. I need to be strong.

My mother walks in, and my sister follows. I forgot that she had that ridiculous haircut, but she didn't have much reason to style it. My sister, 9 years old, is a far cry from the 16-year-old she is today. But she looks exactly as I remember back then. She's shaking, and she sits down next to me. My mother puts herself into the armchair across, visibly trying to conceal her emotions. Like me, she needs to be strong. She has to be.

I know what's coming, but I'm unable to stop it. I clench my fists, breathing in short gasps, repeating my mantra: I need to be strong. I need to be strong. IneedtobestrongIneedtobestrongIneedtobestrong...

Then my mother says the three words that will, over the next 8 years, doom me to a half-life, a partly meaningless existence, with a broken heart and broken mind. "He is gone."

I remember screaming, but reliving it is terrifying. The shriek that comes out of my mouth is inhuman. I didn't even think a person could make such a sound and still live. I scream and scream until my voice grows hoarse and my body collapses, until I almost pass out. My eyes are closed because I don't want to see the truth. The sound of my voice alone should have been enough to drag a soul back from the grave, but it isn't. I fall back, breathing, crying, sobbing. Part of me has just died.

When I open my eyes, I'm sitting on the couch again. The room is yellow, the couches are clean, the day is bright. My reflection looks back at me, the 20-year-old with a vacant stare and sweat dotting his forehead. My cheeks are wet with tears and I raise my hand to them, cold and shaking. 8 years. Never gets any easier to live through. Welcome to my Nightmare, I whisper to myself, bitterly.

No, I'm not going out today. He'll never be there to see me graduate. Never be there to see me get married. He'll never meet his grandchildren, never teach them what he taught me so long ago. He'll never whisper in my ear again. Never see the man I've become.

Are you proud of me daddy? It hurts so much.

Broken

"If everyday life and everyday people and the everyday world had a color, it would be grey. Mundanity.

monday-tuesday-wednesday-thursday-friday-saturday-sunday-
work-kids-husband-school-girlfriend-bills-car-house-blind date-bar-
traffic jams-cramps-laundry-balance checkbook-dog-carpool-vet trips-
shower-shopping-sandwiches-weddings-funerals-routines-patterns-
- - -

Everything runs together in one dull blur, moving so fast all color is lost and only grey results. No black, no white, no color, just grey. Grey like fog like clouds like dusk like cities like concrete like everything...

Life gets so wrapped up in itself, in its mundaneness, most people forget there were such things as color, and light. Most people are so full of their own normalcy there is room for nothing else.

It's the "cracked" ones, the ones society says is 'broken' and 'wrong' and 'mistakes' and everything else unnatural and unfamiliar, it's oftentimes the "crazy" ones, the weird the bizarre the fringes... it's they who remember what color is.

The hippie mom who still wears gypsy skirts and bandanas to pick up carpool. The businessman who reads comics on the subway during his commute to work. The crazy aunt who the parents hate but the children adore because her house is magical somehow, childready and free. The man who keeps company only with his hawks because they are noble and true and do not betray him as his "fellow" humans do. The librarian who still secretly splashes in rain puddles when no one is looking.

The ones who are in some way free. The ones who are still childlike in awe in their heats. The ones who remember there is something other to life than the grey grind of concrete, day after day. They hae a crack in that grey exterior, somewhere, and let colors shine through them... colors of life...

Rose glasses... the blue of the ocean... the green of the grass...
the oranges and pinks of the sunset... the yellow of a field of dasies... the briliant red of a cardinal.

They remember this color, and they in their lives reflect it, through their "broken" pieces. And all colors together... all colors blended together... give pure white light. It is these that join together and let light into the world."

- Wuukiee, Everything2.com

Waiting

The air was cold, and the sky was gray. The asphalt was dark under my feet as I shuffled around, trying in a vain effort to keep myself warm. A few strangers stood nearby, drawing their jackets against themselves to guard against the cruel wind.

Birds fluttered from the nearby lamppost, soaring into the sky on wingbeats as short as heartbeats. The steel and glass of the bus stop felt hard against my back, and the coldness of the glass pierced the fabric of my thin jacket, like invasive fingers reaching out to my skin. I slouched, allowing myself to take on the same shade of gray that seemed to permeate everything.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I took a deep breath and let it out in a ragged sigh. The air smelled like grease and cigarette smoke, courtesy of the strangers also waiting for the bus. My thoughts ran through my head - not like lightning, but like dark thunderclouds: roiling, slow, ponderous. My flaws and my problems, the feeling of loneliness in a time of need.

The sharp crunch of rocks under feet interrupted my thoughts. A soft scrape from nearby forced open my eyes.

I had my head bowed, so the first thing I saw were her hands. Slender fingers, wrapped in a small fist to keep them warm. Light skin, no blemishes, finely clipped nails with a tint of gloss. She had beautiful hands.

I looked up, first turning away from her to look out the glass walls of the small bus shelter. The sky was gray on that side, still dark and heavy, leading back to despair. As I turned my head, she shuffled her feet, just an inch, breaking the silence that seemed to envelope us. Pretending to look over at the other wall, I let my gaze fall on her.

She had sunglasses on, which obscured her eyes, and her long black hair fell over her face like a curtain. A girl, about my age, maybe a year younger. She was staring straight ahead, out towards the dusty road. Out of my peripheral vision I noticed an empty seat on her other side, and it puzzled me. There was plenty of room on the bench. Why sit next to me?

I quickly looked away as she shifted in her seat. The slow creak of the bench settling under our weight broke the silence again, and was enough to make me look back at her. As I turned, the corner of my eye caught her turning her head too, and before I could stop myself, our eyes met for a second, just a moment, through her sunglasses.

We both looked away quickly, stung by the awkward moment. I looked down at my hands in my lap, and she brushed her fingers through her hair, as if nothing had happened. The tension seemed to increase. We were just two strangers, waiting for the ride that would take us away from here, and nothing more. The rules of society, taught from young, say never to talk to strangers, and we carry that tragic lesson to the end.

Out of my peripheral vision I noticed her turning again, so I tilted my head to catch her face in the corner of my eye. She was looking at me, and she didn't know I could see her eyes through her sunglasses. We held eye contact for a few vital seconds. I let the corners of my mouth turn up slightly into an awkward smile.

Her lips pursed and she smiled back for a few seconds. Then with a rattle from the bench, she stood up and walked out of the shelter onto her waiting bus. I hadn't even heard it arrive.

I watched as the bus drove away, belching dark smoke from its sides. Then I was alone once again, with only my thoughts for company.

I turned my head and looked to the side, two seats over. The plastic on the bench was cracked there, sharp edges poking up through the rubber coating. There isn't anything more to this world, just practicality. You sit next to someone, because the other seats are broken. You keep silent, because to speak would be to break the lessons taught from childhood. You wear sunglasses, even when the sky is gray, to hide your eyes, the windows to the soul, from the world.

My bus arrived in a few minutes, but I stayed until the next one, waiting for hope, but it never came.

Silence

*plink*

*plink plink*

The sound of the tap is all I hear. Drops of water, playing a dissonance on my nerves like a death metal band. Timed perfectly to the ticks of a clock.

*plink*

The air is cold and damp. Although it seems nonsensical, I'd say it feels grey, and smells like a scream - if you could capture the essence of a shriek in a scent. The lights are on but it doesn't do much to clear the darkness in the back of my mind.

*plink plink*

Have you ever wondered what the world becomes when you close your eyes? For a moment, I drop my eyelids, allowing darkness to pass over me. What's happening outside? I can still feel the couch underneath me, my feet on the table... but are they really there? Am I just sitting on the idea of a couch, my legs lazily resting on a theoretical coffee table? When I close my eyes, the world disappears.

What if the world is dark where your eyes aren't looking? Maybe shadows fall behind your head, where you can't see, and things rot and peel until you turn your gaze on them. How can we know what happens where we can't see? Where we can't feel? Maybe science is wrong - maybe our eyes don't take in the world, but spit it out. Like a overhead in the classroom, our eyes might project images onto the world... who knows?

I open my eyes. I'm disappointed. The world looks exactly the same.

*plink*

*plink plink*

And for a moment, I let the feeling wash over me. Grey, thick clouds. Not dark, not light, but a fog that brings nothing with it, and leaves nothing. Nihilism at its finest, emotionless like the light of the pale moon. Like a red ribbon in the grass. Like a hairbrush on the counter. Everything has its place, but where do we find it? Where's my place in the world?

Fleeting, short, painful. Most things in life are, don't you think? Love, hate, fear, joy, and life itself. Even the good things in life come at a price, and there's the tiniest pinch inside as it's collected from us. Every cloud has a silver lining, but every silver lining has a cloud. Surreal, too real, unreal. The small noises of the world remind me just how mortal I am - water droplets, counting down the few seconds I have left before the silence takes me.

*plink*

The water stops and everything is quiet for just a few seconds. I feel the sudden urge to scream, and so I do.





*plink*

*plink plink*

The sound of the tap is all I hear.

Terrified of You

Okay, so. I am totally re-re'd.

I had a reasonably long talk today that made me sort of realize that I have no idea what I'm doing. It just hit me suddenly, like a club on a baby seal. Ahaha. Joking aside though, I really did stumble on my words, which has hardly ever happened before. I'm usually more self-confident in my weirdness, but lately I've been faltering at the line and tripping over my own feet like an idiot.

I know the reason, but it's somewhat personal. Lots of recent events, even today, have altered my perceptions of what I thought was real. I've just decided that some things are out of my control, because of who I am and what I am. Trying to grasp hold of a wish is impossible. Not to sound pessimistic (because I know I always do), but this sucks assholes.

There are lots of closed doors in this world, and I've missed many open ones because I'm scared to walk in. I'm fucking terrified of risk, and that stops me from doing what my heart tells me to.

Shit, I'm stupid. Sorry guys.

***

On the other hand, I've watched a plethora of movies lately (heheh, plethora). Iron Man, Forbidden Kingdom, Harold & Kumar, Spawn, Cloverfield, Futurama, Machine Girl, and so much more.

Machine Girl stood out in particular because the main character is an orphaned (and unwilling) amputee who takes revenge on the gangsters that murdered her brother using her machine-gun-arm. Add the fact that all the enemies seem to have insanely high blood pressure, causing any wound to shoot red-kool-aid like a garden hose. Also toss in ridiculous weapons like the 'drill-bra', 'flying guillotine (a bucket with teeth)' and the 'chainsaw foot', and the movie becomes so over the top and so stupid that it's actually enjoyable. It's another example of how something can be so dumb and ridiculous it becomes awesome (case in point: me).

The other movies were awesome too, but since a few of them are more recent, I'll hold back the spoilers and let you watch them yourself. With the amount of spare time I have, I might just become a professional movie critic (only joking, I'm not lazy OR fat enough, but I'm getting there).

***

...I'll be the phonograph that plays your favourite albums back / as you're lying there, drifting off to sleep...

Being a guy sucks. I mean, I like the fact that I can pee standing up, and fold maps properly, but when it comes to girls, testosterone is a big inhibitor. Social standards say that guys have to make the first move, and for the ladies that read this, it's fucking horrifying. On top of that, guys are literally always in the wrong. How many times have you seen a guy shopping the 'I'm Sorry' aisle in Hallmark, as opposed to ladies? How many guys buy flowers, compared to the number of girls that buy video games (hey, I don't like flowers, I play video games, deal with it). Dudes always get the short end of the stick, and it's hard as a brick of diamonds covered in uranium 235. Fuck.

***

This entry is dedicated to all those guys and girls breaking up at HS graduation, or prom. I feel your pain.