rude awakenings

I feel like somewhere along my life there was a shift. Suddenly nothing was for fun any more, it was all necessary. Suddenly I'm bothering with what others think, afraid to link any connotations I deem negative to my being. Why do I care what people I've never met, who'll forget they ever saw me, think of me; this obscure stranger in their peripherals. It's a warped sense of mind and place, seeing the space around me in my mind's made up ways. So I stray away from everyone, isolating myself unwittingly, turning them against me. Self fulfilling prophecies, I succeed in creating this reality. I need to break free from my mind's mentalities, with which negativity has propelled me. So I've started a new sport. I call it neighborhood night dancing. Donning headphones and heading out alone to the empty streets as the city sleeps, and moving to the beat. Letting it compel me towards a freedom long gone missing. Letting go is an art. Complete release is a tough

I am filled with the feeling of too much to do, but when given the time all I can accomplish is looking back at these blog entries with a detached sensibility. I am removed from them now. Peculiar, how these words remain fixed here, memories I would rather forget. But I am now wet with memories, soaked in ancient feelings I thought had shriveled away in the sun. One thing struck me was my way with words. It has always been a talent, but I exercised it more in adolescence. Now the muscle is weak and the words are hard to lift from my mind to this page in any way worth telling. I need to stop telling myself that.  Evolution is inevitable and I have been changed by this passing of time. I am fascinated with progress, with the slow steady growth of each individual. Sophistication, intelligence, ever shifting dreams and schemes. But there is always an essence that remains unchanged. The spirit which guides us to who we want to become through time and space. I am happy now. I've always b

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People’s lack of responsibility in the face of global issues is distressing. The fact that one can throw their empty bottle of antifreeze out their window onto the street without feelings of guilt or regret makes me nervous. People may think that as long as no one’s there to stop them then it’s ok, but when every member of population are multiplying these actions, it becomes an exponential problem. I want to live in a city where I don’t see twenty discarded coffee cups on my way home. I want to live where people are accountable for their actions. Where they care enough to carry their garbage to waste stations where they sort it into recyclable, compostable, and waste.  People need to be educated from the start of grade 1 that it’s important to do the right thing by the Earth. Teach them how to recycle, how to compost. Have a compost bin at each school where all the lunch waste gets put into a bin where it composts and is turned into fertilizer for the school’s community garden. We

We aren't going about this the right way. This Earth is not a resource. She is not a commodity. She lives, she breathes, she can feed us with her fruits yet we rip apart her flesh, and drink her blood. Pump her dry and leave her sighing. Sometimes I think we are a virus twisted around this globe, a puerperal parasite feeding happily upon it's host. Sometimes I'm disgusted with what humans have become. Misanthropist by nature, and so by nature I live. Forests are my friends and each tree a sleepy soul. Their groves are my heart's home, I live in the trees and they live in me. I've never been one for society, not a fan of this humanity. I've always been removed, by some force that calls me back to the wild places. I love in the spaces where many creatures live, societies of my own. No rules except that it's better to work together than to compete for the limited resources. These beings know the meanings of life. I want to live in pe

I'm trying to get back into words, back into the playful art of sentence sculpture. We have a multitude of fridge magnet words, and it's incredible what you can piece together. This is a mini poem, half fridge phrases half mind musings; Give me a smile wind child, daughter of the moon You slather the night with love, licking it fresh. you are curious, naked, in full repose. And to think. it took 3.5 billion years to build something as beautiful as you. Love is an idea, shared between two to understand the self. And I understand. More to come as I fill my hat with momentous phrases. toodaloo

I'm in a funk. Today I had time to kill so I visited my family, specifically my grandparents and my mother. To set the stage I'll need to give you some details on these people. My grandfather is 91, has Alzheimer's and mostly bumbles around the house and pretends he knows what's going on. My grandmother is 88, a chain smoker and a stubborn lady with a foul mouth. My mother is an alcoholic who is just as stubborn and just as foul mouthed as her mother. So needless to say the evening was far from enjoyable. The issue as of late is that my grandmother doesn't like the cold climate of Calgary and wants to take her son, who is a multiple stroke victim with no use of most of his body living in a care home on Vancouver Island, down to Bellingham Washington. She owns a home down there which is currently rented out to students. So her plan is to rent a house there until her home is free in July. All she seems to care about is taking care of my uncle, even though he's

It's been a while. Christmas and new year's have come and gone, now I lay at the cusp of another semester at MRU. I foresee it going better than the last, but by no means amazing. My constant struggles with socializing and lack of interest in my colleagues will forever challenge my existence, but I always get by somehow. Besides lackluster schooling other aspects of my life are peachy.  This past weekend the band 36? hosted a collaborative art explosion to design the album art from multimedia contributions of anyone interested. AKA Me and my friends spent three days sitting on newspaper, painting, smoking joints, drawing, smoking weed, collage-ing, crocheting, and of course smoking marijuana. It was an intense experience, very enjoyable, and it let me use art as a form of expression which has been lacking in my life as of late.  At the end of the three days of 'el3vatin6nature' sessions, four 6' x 6' wooden frames were filled with a crazy array of multimedia