to be announced

explorations in writing

Pretty much writing without any inspiration here...just trying to get some old demon monkeys off my back...and it's not working. Massive problems with insomnia, and the ol' depression is back-one can tell, when one sleeps a lot. Mostly, I try to pretend that life is not that bad, or my life, anyways, but that's not true. How the hell I've managed to get this far, is beyond me. I'm one of those whose always a step away from being homeless, and the best they can hope for, at least at this point, is scraps at Labour Ready (which is where I'm going tomorrow). Labour Ready is not a career. It's a stopgap in-between kinda thing. But for some-it's all they've got.

I'm fucking worn out. As a youth, about 15 years of beatings, from Dad, and any school we happened to be at-never had a solid home, we moved every two or three years, it seemed. Also psychological, there's always that component. A brief period of at least interest, as a young, very poor punk, in Saskatoon. Never got laid there, either. No girlfriend. Then, in desperation, or something I can't even name, out to here, where, amongst the beauty and the trees, I endured 22 years of grinding poverty, roomates from hell, near total career failure (mostly due to my own, at the time, unsolved problems) and except for a couple of brief relationships, 20 years of celibacy-and not by my own choosing.

Oh yeah, let's add into that actual real blocked memory. Not false memory, but really actually blocked. And it wasn't anywhere near a picnic when it got sort of unblocked, or mostly unblocked. There's still a couple of chunks that are pretty deeply buried. A few years later, and the fun and games are still going on. Because now, in whatever half-assed attempt at healing I'm trying to do, I've got to work through the Vancouver years.

It's almost impossible to describe the endless, brutality of childhood, of high school, and the years after. It's equally as difficult, when one realizes one has a pretty bright mind, so what happens? No girlfriend? No Job? No life? Blame one's self, cause hey, if I was stupid, I'd have an excuse, right? It's actively painful to be in polite company-'what do you do?' and try to make something up. Maybe I should just say "Oh, me? Just a total loser constantly dancing at the edge of your basic doom and gloom." Because shit, that would be easier than trying to sound like I'm actually doing something with my life.

It's equally difficult trying to describe what it's like. How do I describe, without sounding like an old emo-fuck, that the best I've seen of life, so far (outside of moments here and there, of course) is the bottom of a hob nail boot? How do I put that in words? Maybe as many as possible. Maybe I should write about this shit, until I run out of words. Do I beat myself up? Yeah, like I said, I'm bright enough to know I've played a part in it too.

I'll tell you why I'm not an athiest: because with what I experience on a daily basis, to learn, or know, or find out, there's no free will, no mind, nothing much human, it's all random, so shit, you can't even blame the rich, and then after all that, there's nothing? Because that would make me just fold up, and give up. There aint many athiests in the world I know. Think about that. The one's that are, almost all have a nice lover, a nice job, and are north american comfortable. The world I know? Might as well just stick an aids infested needle in those people's arms, and call it. Our kind, we have to have hope-even if that hope is that, if nothing else, if it's going to be shitty all the wey through, it won't be on the other side. Or, failing that, that free will means having the strength to go through the shit.

It's that important, it's that vital. It's called faith. Doesn't have to be faith in God. Just faith in human spirit, and courage. And love. Because without it, you're done. You need that free will, you need that hope, that feeling of strength, because that's what keeps you going. While I'm not a Christian, either-when's the last time I've set foot in a church, aside from a free meal? Yeah, I've done that. I've also done food lines, way too many times-I still hold onto the need for my own humanity, for a human soul.

It's why I got angry when, a few years ago, some politician, can't recall his name, lived for three days, in east side hotels, on 75 a day-what a joke! And then said that now he knows what it's like. No, he doesn't. Cause he goes back to his cushy job. Try losing everything, even family, and not being able to go back to that. Try not having even a tent, and living on anywhere's between nothing and fuck all, everyday, and maybe, just maybe he might know what it's like.

And I've got no shoulder to cry on. I don't have a lover to pet me and say it's alright when the chips are down. I have no back up finance. I can't hop off on a nice vacation, because that might be neat. I don't even have applicable skills, and my resume? What's a resume? And I've got a real problem with all those years of unending shit-the memory, by now, has seeped into my very being. The experience not to be forgot. Poverty does not build character. It builds scar tissue. Even should I somehow make it, that memory won't go away. And I have to make it-I can't, and won't, face the alternative. I'm at the bottom anyways, far below the poverty line, and only a half step above the very bottom, so you know, no where to go but up.

It's why I face each New Years with very mixed feelings, and why I threw this one out there. A state of my mind kinda thing. what's holding me together is the very thing I was talking about-hope. Hope for healing to continue, hope that maybe, just maybe, this time, I'll find enough strength to crawl out of this crap.

in which I bitch
Still amazed at so many people's inability to brother complaining that he can't understand some of my stupid facebook updates-learn to read, duh. Or the GW's insisting that the science is in-well, yes-science that has been altered to suit IPC's purpose. Or the cute pics in the telegraph about starving polar bears resorting to cannibalism. Ignoring some basic facts about polar bears: Males will eat cubs. So will wolves. Polar bears are also scavengers, so, there's to possibilities as to where the pic came from. Oh, and eight sightings of cannibalism, amongst a vast population? Aint exactly starving.

And so on and so forth. Or, on a site where I proposed an in house solution, one that renders climatchange conferences moot, and can even work, whether or not the carbon tax is proposed-alternative power sources-to which the reaction is, "How dare you propose a workable solution! And one that solves the whole thing! I want the carbon tax-yeah, because those that want, are likely cyclists and greenies, so they won't have to pay, in their mind.

On top of the manipulated data, there are now economists-stockbrokers, players in the field, weighing in on the cap and tax, saying "I can manipulate the cap and tax to my own ends-believe me when I say that's what's going to happen. And it's a non-trickle down, money goes to the top kinda game."

And it won't stop the climate from changing-if it's real, and let's assume it is, reduce those carbon emissions, means diddly. The change, if it is real, by now will be metastatic.

This crap is the tip of a very corrupt iceberg. The corruption is all over the place-not that that means much-humans have done business a certain way-usually called protecting one's own ass, for millions of years. And in spite of that, we seem to get along just fine.

That, and I suspect quite a few just don't know how I think. Don't care to elucidate, either. Most seem to try and pigeonhole me into one form of thought or another. That shit never works. I can see the gears grinding away, and just to piss people off, I'll switch gears. North americans are easily confused.

both of these things is not like the other-
Something occurred to me, recently-once again, in an overview on the climategate-both sides on the issue are guilty of a heavy dose of myopia. Because, whether or not there's global warming, there's already, in place, a simple solution, that does not in any way require the interference of the UN, or IPCC, or Gore, any of that. Because the 'solution' that is being proposed, includes ineefective, draqconian measures that limit a countries development.

That solution? Current, existing technologies that include tidal power generation, solar power, wind power, and a host of other-for instance, the Sterling engine, invented in 1869 by a scotsman, is an external combustion engine that easily produces as much power as an internal combustion engine, can be tooled to accept many varieties of fuel, and the driver requires only thermal energy-it's a turbine, powered by heat, or even kinetic energy. Not to mention, converting to deisel? Well hey, anyone can tell you, deisel burns cleaner, produces less carbon dioxide. This is not a complete list, either.

In other words, simply put-we just don't need a governing body, or a fucking carbon tax-and anyways, I can see countries sliding under the radar by saying "okay, we'll go alternative" Which breaks the oil monopoly, as well.

Huh-we'll really see the environmentalists true colours, when, if we were to offer the common sense solution-and they wail against that.

further rant-
I find the modern North American to be in a very sorry state. In particular, modern, mostly hetero males. Like a neutered bull, they've almost totally lost their balls, often seen cow towing to Ayn Rand uber bitches. Yeck.

More specifically, the social scene-pretty much anything out in public. Consider, for instance, the non-dialogue that courred, and still occurs, around 9-11-something few have considered, because both sides are so busy haranguing over who did it, is what happened that day. America lost. It works like this-19 dudes with box cutters? wow, like the rest of the planet aint gonna be looking at USA, and grinding knives. The biggest arsenal on the planet, the most security-"America is soft," they will say, "fattened and ready."
or an inside job? I can just see the rest of the world thinking " set up a Reichstag, mostly fuck it up, kill your own people in a rpretty botched job, and then go and get bogged down in Iraq? Hey, America-you're done."

what I'm alluding to is a simple point: Westerners have no clue how to think. How to look at the bigger picture, and make an inference as to what is happening, based on the current situation. More specifically, a lot of Westerners-not all of them, I'm generalizing. In the sense of 9-11, doesn't matter who did it, it matters how to clean up the fucking mess. Or, as I once put it to someone "it works like this-we have three possibilities-inside job, boxcutters, or, oddly enough-it doesn't happen. What is the end result of all 3 scenarios? Obvious. America goes to Iraq." In other words, run the basic scenarios, discover what is likely to happen, based on intuitive reasoning, and understand the current situation. I often get this sense from people, that I don't know what i'm talking about, because I will get some geography wrong, or a couple of factoids.

Heh. And it demonstrates a serious problem with Western thinking, and why I say science is stupid. A better description would be, science is myopic. When you're myopic, you have to look close at something to suss out the details. the north american male, and female, get booged down with minor, unimportant details, and then seperate the details in nice little piles (remember, the root word of science is 'sci' or 'scy' which is used equeally to describe the act of seperating out, or excretion-both being one and the same.

This is the form of thinking taught in school. Memorize details, sperate into nice little piles, regurgitate. I used to get into arguments with my teachers, due to a tendency I had, which was, I would demonstrate my ability to absorb and regurgitate facts-but I had the annoying problem of insisting on ordering those factoids however I wanted, in whatever order I wanted, to make whatever pattern I damn well wanted. Like, arguing about the true reasoning behind Hiroshima-especially when I found out many warlords had already surrendered, and anyways, the war was mostly won-overkill, was the word-amongst other things. And that's a mild example. And, of course, inevitably, they would think I am trying to get a specific point across...I am one of 'those' people, who wear the kooky tinfoil hats.

And yeah, I've discovered over the years, that regardless of the subject, any dissenting opinion, regardless of what the original subject is, is going to be turnede into one of those tinfoil hats guys. But I've begun, in frustration, to find a way around that. And being the person I am, it won't be long before I get really good at it. I want people to think. I also have a massive ego, and while I don't want ditto heads, I do want them to listen to what I have to say. Be nice to hear a 'you have a point' once in awhile. Newflash-one can say that, and still retain one's sense of space. Easy peasy.

I'm figuring out the way to do it. And that's where intuition, an overview, and quick wit come in. I have a very quick wit-many is the time, some lovely little set of words will pop into my head, but, because of my upbringing, there's a disconnect between that and what I actually say. Something I am correcting. What I do, in a situation I'm all too familiar with, is rapid check an overview of the dialogue in hand-sadly, I often have to take a chance that I'm more or less right-and, in one or two sentences-it has to be done fast, because the other guy isn't a professional debater, and that's all the time you've got-and discombobulate the other's train of thought, by presenting a challenge they've never really considered. I've done it, and I've also failed to do it. It takes practice.

A bit of warning: if you take a stance, particularly that of thinking for yourself, in any damn way you please, and state that in the open, no matter how you do it, you'll be the bad guy-even if you derail a line of thought, in the interest of getting the other guy to think-even if you state, loudly, that you could give a shit what conclusion the other guy comes to. Because, in the end, most wsterners are nearly entirely domesticated, and ANY dissent, anything even slightly different than 'consensus opinion', will be considered an attack-primarily because modern westerners-again, mostly guys, not only don't know how to think, they don't know how to do so in real time. They're stupid, relatively defenseless, and terrified of upsetting the status quo. All too often, i've been in a group situation, where the other guys won't say anything-but you know what they're thinking. This is what happened with Robin Bougie and ilk, and why I was devastated, and what led to my current state of thinking. I thought they liked me, where, like a group of Grade 6ers, they laughing at me behind my back, and not to my face. The dude on wednesday? Hey, I did you a fovour-I was an asshole to your face-it would have been nice if you hadn't left at the moment, all ascared, cause I would have pointed out the obvious. The north american male, in my estimation,as misogynist as this sounds, and to fuckery with political correctness, I'm going with Sim on this one-acts like a sad little bitch princess. Cause first, mom emasculated their pop, and then she started to work on the youngster.

Why am i writing so much about this shit? Because I've had to endure it for years. Delivered in every possible fucking form-and all in overkill, and often in groups-yeah, i've had to deal with that, too. That cute little table full of bitch princess males, the only one of which was Colin, who actually said anything? not one of you have ever had to be in a real fight-and if you had, I can virtually guarantee, it was when you were five. Males read that shit, because they have to-well, the ones who have experience, anyways. And as I pointed out earlier, yeah, mind and body have to cooridinate in real time, and actually think, during a fight-whether verbal, or physical. And basically, well, i'm sick of it. And I'm sick of the disgusting Wastern male attitude that it comes from. Where I come from, anything outside of the weather was a throw down, and dammit, you were expected to stand you're own. Shit, at the supper table, that's what it was like. I hated when I was growing up. now, i miss those near brawls. Cause we were a family that thought-you're five years old, and you have an opinion? Better damn well make sure you can at least articulate it clearly.

And something else I realized, literally, just now: Dad beat sheer hell out of most of us, and not in a good way, out of most of us, for everything else-and not once, not once, for anything, no matter how nasty, that was said at the table. At least as far as my memory tells me. In other words, aside from all the other oppression, we knew, that we could stand our ground, state our piece, give as good as we got, and sometimes better, and no pain-well, except for numerous bitter battles at the table-but that was at the table.

That shit's missing these days. I say this, having come from abuse, and knowing what abuse is. While carrying perhaps too much of an awareness of the possibilty of repeating that. Well, sure, if one considers flinging facts at someone 'abuse'. Fine then, I'm an asshole. That's why I said I'm just gonna get worse-I haven't been myself for a long time, so, i'm gonna be a bit clumsy-soon, however, I'm likely to desconstruct your attitude, and, gasp! Horrors! Leave you hangin' there, without no way of knowing where to go from there. Oh, well, helluva thing to have to think. And, of course, ever so egoistic of me, to decide, isn't it? Think I'm capable of making that decision.

And for years now, I've been so concerned with fitting in, that I've cowtowed. Shitfire, I was born this way. Don't care if anyone believes me, or not. That nice guy, though a little bit of an airhead picture? That's just a wee part of me, and a lie at that. In reality, I'm a way too talkative opinionated loudmouth asshole with a weird way of thinking (it's called 'seeing shit for what it is'), and the vocabularly and mental speed to back it up. And there's this: from mom, I learned strength and love, and all kindsa good things. And from Dad, I learned all kinds of nastiness-which if I deny, works against me. If I embrace too fully, works against me. Obvious how I should deal with it.

Colin-if you're reading this, this is for you-i decided, after some thought, that I'm not gonna apologize to that guy-you're observant-I get excited, spirited, i go-you are observant, you may have noted that I did not once call him names. So, while the ponce was walking away, all emo, and called me an ignorant asshole-them's his words-while losing his side of the discussion (I particularly love that 'I can't draw crap. Wuss.), means that i have to apologize to him? I didn't call him down, just disagreed. For that matter, less and less do I show up-noticed that anyone who isn't a few of the core members don't bother to show, except irregularly-because, well, it's kinda not worth the bother. And I've pretty much had it up to here with these lame duck peer pressure types. I was raised up fighting, literally. At home, and abroad. Nothing like a big family and a slew of farm boy bullies, to strengthen up the ol' fortitude. I'm old school-hates this new school modern emo male crap, where everyone just rolls over for anyone. gonna stay that way, and i'll probably get worse.

some of you seem to have this idea that I'm a conspiracy theorist, of the typical paranoid kind. some of you aren't very observant. Certain subjects are broached, a lot of you simply shut down-no one taught you how to think. Why I mentioned the fighting. Bully on you, he doesn't give you signals, he doesn't ask politely whether you want to fight-i know, cause i've been in lot's, many many fights. He does his very level best, no signal, to take you unwares, and take you dirty. And you? you gotta actively think, strategize, figure his shit out, there's no instinct in fighting-and you gotta do it in real time, at the speed of a single punch. Even down to figuring out how to survive this, if you're going down.

It teaches you how to think. and something called mechanical reasoning is involved. So, for those of you, who bother to read this, I'm writing this for me, not you, so this is my statement on some shit. I have witnessed, observed, and through evidence, now believe that Mr. and Mrs. Six Pack are one helluva lot wiser and smart than just about any expert. Science and technical thought are just ways of thinking, and, as mere organizational filing systems, deeply flawed and limited. I also believe that for centuries, there are inbred fucking psychopaths who are in power, and don't give a shit about you or me, and denial of that now very real reality is worse than stupid. However, I also firmly believe that a major shift, an evolutionary shift, is now occurring-and it aint new age, it's very very basic: humankind's growing up. Evolving. And, the ancient pyramidal power structures, from the time of the agricultural god-kings is now skating the very thinnest of ice. Indeed, they've lost the reins, purely, or, are losing them right now. And the shift means people are realizing, en masse, that psychopaths, control freaks, with no empathy whatever, will do anything, anything, and usually increasingly insane and stupid, to maintain that illusion of control. Peeling back the layers on power politics, on 9-11, on the invasions occurring now, on climategate, the whole shitworks, this is merely seeing the pattern, the actual information for what it is. And then in knowing that, the way to deal with it, while very difficult, becomes more obvious.

Remember the fighting? Fellas entire purpose is to hurt you. to dominate. If he's losing, and he thinks he can gain an edge-he'll go for it. if he thinks he can get some of his pals, and jump you later? better believe your ass he'll do it. He doesn't want dialogue, he doesn't want to communicate, he wants you down on the ground, licking his boot. And it aint a small step to worse than that. Not for a guy like that. That's the way 'they' are. And the very last thing they want you to know, to figure out, is that there's not the human being that can be controlled, defeated in spirit, when they realize they got one. In spite of what you anti-human science freaks will say to the contrary. Bullshit. the single most powerful thing on this planet, above all, is just how unreasonable, how amazing, how incredibly tough people are. not just tough, no, we're talking stand thee aside Goliath, ya'll don't mean squat. we're talking no holds-barred, take no fucking prisoners, ya'll aint GOT what it takes to take me down, even if you toss the whole derned world on top of me. We are talking the baddest of the bad assed fuckers running in fear, from a doen women in a south american town ruled by thugs who kill cause they don't like you, standing with signs, demanding to know where their husbands, whom the thugs had taken, and mostly killed, were-and nothing, but by damn and by god hisself, nothin' stopped them. and the badd asses who fart bullets and shit knives? Defeated.

That's what I'm talking about. that's why I can look at some conspiracy, see it for what it is-a scam to rule some people, and it doesn't bother me. cause Mr. and Mrs. six pack, being basically kind and decent sorts, well, they'll take on one helluva lot of abuse. but there comes this point, and if you're a psychopathic control freak, you don't have the brains to know where that point is-where the Mr. and the mrs., well, they'll grumble a touch, get on up, dust themselves off, roll up the sleeves-and when they do that, the only choice you got is to totally massacre 'em-if you can. and don't that cause you gots yourself some shiny ass planet killers, some tanks and missiles and whatnot, that that's gonna do the job. it won't be pretty, and you just don't want to tempt that mighty strength. cause that lion is agonna roar, and it's already stretchin', gettin' ready, and it's gonna say, in a clear voice heard throughout the world "Yeah, alright. You've had your turn. Now fuck off."

And even if that isn't true? I'm still gonna believe it. Even if there are those that say "you can't win"-the true paranoid-fuck 'em. Aint about winnin'-well, maybe this time it is, cause, well, we have to-it's about standin' up. Finding out all the bad stuff, like how they control you? That's just common sense-that's what you try to do in a fight-because a fight is about dominance-literally controlling another's body and mind, through threat of pain and damage-and you damn well better want to know what his or her preferred methods are. Everything you see in the larger control oriented conspiracies, exist within the fight.

Aint gonna apologize to someone who slinks away-nor someone who calls me names, when I didn't. Aint gonna apologize for what my views are, nor being brash and what others see as obnoxious about them. North American men have totally lost their balls-they don't know what pain is, they don't know what a fight is, they're scared to find out, and they run wussying up to anyone who they percieve as authority. whatever happened to the rebel? I fought against entire schools and teachers, my family, to think the way I think, be the way I am. Shit, I'd get into arguments with teachers, and, right or wrong, I'd demonstrate to them-hell yeah, I can learn the facts-any monkey can do that-and I can spit 'em out, just like any monkey-but I shall damn well put em in whatever order I choose to, in my mind, and decide what to do with them, and then have the gall to tell you, who thinks yer all smart and shit, that I think you're wrong-or, at least, I prefer my interpretation. Once argued with some goof about Iraq-during the start of the second invassion-and in spite of him being a racist, a bigot, and seriously retarded-had him rethinking, at least I like to pretend that's what happened-his whole structure. As in, he'd run out of even the name calling and just yelling me down.

And I'm gonna stay that way. Oh, and Colin-keep your eye on the scriptwriter-he'sw about tentimes smarter than anyone there, including me, plays his cards close to his chest, and I guarantee, if he was so inclined, could run that ponyshow. Their business model is seriously flawed. they'll eventually tank, if they don't loosen it up, a lot. Or possibly get frustrated and bored-like a lot who aren't core.

If the many reader has gotten this far-why they would bother, lord only knows-and they's all pissed off and shit, heck, solution is simple-don't bother with it! It's just a half arsed manifesto, with a lot of braggadacio, and ridiculous opinionated total bullshit strewn around in a big ol' pile of crap. Or comment and tell me what an arsehole I am. Best to not, cause that just validates my giant ego.

testing testing?
So either this is fixed, or my other browser let's me do stuff on here. Good, cause I will be putting excerpts on here.
Tags:, blue, sounding deep throat notes around you.
  halloween, quite a few of my family also got the blues...which tends to kinda happen with us. Me, I gotta get out of the passive thing, but that's not what I wanted to add a note to the previous journal entry about.

I don't really 'believe' in astrology, but there is one astrologist I really really like-for his poetry, and sometimes a certain amount of accuracy. Here's what his Piscean entry said; well, parts of it, anyways-"I hope you won't merely wander around the frontier. I hope you'll undertake a meticulous yet expansive exploration of the that virgin territory. Here are some tips on how to proceed: 1. formulate specific questions about what you are looking for. 2. Develop a hypothesis for the experiments you want to carry out. 3. Ignore what doesn't interest you, and pounce only on what stirs your fascination."


monday is not a good day to turn a new leaf.
 but it will have to do, seeing as how it's the day I decided-gonna try and turn this one over slooow, though. Greg's out, and the place is quieter-which means I gotta keep myself busy, painting, editing a movie (finally), looking for some sort of job-anyone know of some sort of menial thing? A painter would be neat. Or, I could decide I'm going slowly somewhat more nuts, and go get psych tests done. Uh, maybe not that. Could be that I haven't had any coffee for a few days.


Thought I'dd add some more. Why not? Perhaps it will please the many reader to see more words here. And so-tripped, and yanked my big toe under, which is a fine way to bruise the poop out of it. That was before coffee. Now the nail, and part of the last joint are pretty much black and blue. And under ice. Well, until the veggies thaw...

Thing is, I've been doing the couch thing for several, or more [!] years now, and had gotten quite used to it. Don't have much stuff, and might consider reducing that amount even more, something I've been gradually doing for awhile now. Take it down to art and art related stuff, clothes, instruments, bikes, computer. So I've realized I make a shitty introvert. Probably because I've had to do the introvert thing since I was about 10ish or so. And I kinda don't like it much. To be more specific: effing can't stand it. done enough navel fucking gazing for way too many years. Sure, I have some small understanding, but I could easily have a lot more, by getting active.

Weird-roomie moves out, and there's all this energy, but it's roiled in anger issues, and just plain depresso. Entirely possible that toe banging wasn't exactly an accident-even though it was [?]-that's a thing that many have debated on, for hundreds of years. My take is that what the concious mind reads as random, because it functions on what it thinks is logic (although it isn't. The alpha state is best described as random connections hitting hither and thither, in a fuzzy logic that's trying, and not really succeeding very well, in decoding the rest of the shit in the mind.) at deeper levels, may well be considered as less than reandom. I though it was just clumsiness, but with all this negativity suddenly roiling around inside me, who's to say the subconcious simply obliged, with a little stumble?

"Sad is to live in solitude"-Triste, sung by ol' blue eyes-seriously, that's what's on the internet radio right now. Heh. Kind of a message right there, aint it? Funky coincidence. Aint whether coincidence are 'real', or not 'real', so much as one decides what to take from any particular moment-it's deeper resonances and meanings. The objective materialists have a massive problem with this-so intent and almost OCD focussed on proving, on defining and analyzing what 'is, or 'isn't', that they lose sight of this simple thing: random or meaningful, the universe is too complex to wait around for you to define, prove, or decide what is real. Perhaps one has a 'supernatural' experience. Sceptic or otherwise, perhaps one might want to ponder not whether the experience was actually real, in any sense of the word, but what any larger meaning might be made of the experience.

Something I'm attempting-with currently limited, but hopefully improving success. To shift from why I'm feeling this way, and what were the causes, into 'what direction might this suggest'? So far, I've made it about 10%ish [very ish] of the way to that. might even turn out to be one of those hidden silver lining kinda things-even if I have to make the dang silver lining myself!

moving, sorta.
 All my roomate has left to do, is pick up his bike, and one small picture. All I have left to do, is try and get my life together. I wrote down some goals, and I'm thinking I'm gonna do a repeating said goals, each morning. It's been 20 + years of poverty. Grinding, brutal poverty. And there's only one way out. I'm the one that has to do it. I know what i'm up against-myself. After so long, feeling like a complete piece of shit failure is nearly ingrained in me, and to amazing depths. Cause I started out from the ol' broken home, and just kept on going. Sure, learned how to hang on, but not to thrive, and any will and get to itness was pounded out of me, with a one-two combo of dad, and the city.

Want to escape, want to lay down and ignore it, surrender, travel, run wild and utterly stupid and shriek it out of my system. Want to surge ahead, but mostly, want to work my way out of this. Scared. But more scared of more endless poverty, of more not doing shit. I know why I get excited about anything that smacks of doing something, whether there's money or succeess involved or not. Fucking depserate to get out of the shithole.  And having to say to myself " Hey, gotta drop the desperation. Gotta drop the panic, and the fear, all that. Time is now, always now. Twenty plus years of fuck all to say for myself, to prove I did something? Screw it. Yeah, I'm a failure, yeah, feel like I sat on my butt. Speak the truth of what I did. didn't do, or how I feel, and then get a fucking move on. Grind away at that fucker. Hold your head up, put your shoulder to it, like you never have." Punchdrunk? Betcher ass. Fuck, I feel like I've been in the ring with Ali, Foreman and Liston, for way past 15 rounds. Yeah? So? Reach inside, go deep, find that extra bit. Gotta. No one else to do that for ya.

Some people know my story, but not too many. Way I carry myself, way I look, few know. Same as so many people around the world. You wonder about their story, what they've been through. And so many have been through far more than most can imagine.

I feel like I've gotta just get behind the plow, and give'r. Shit, and that'll be just to break the ground. Then there's gonna be removing all them rocks. Then, maybe, I can actually see some results.

flying snails
 Probably because I haven't been on here for awhile...Greg's moving out, so I get his room, and will finally have four walls I can stare at in absolute boredom...Probably building a's a note-found a huge old whiteboard-gonna be drawing table, the kind set at an angle. Big enough that I can put the illo board on one side, and use the remainder to do my thumbnails and sketches.

Pretty sweet, that.

Autumn now, all them lervely orange and brown leaves and shit and all that moody crap because Canuckians love being moody and glowery. Pretty famous for that, in certain areas. well, Vancouver for one. I've noticed though, that cultures where people's are fairly comfortable and well off, tend to be a little conservative in the attitude and social mores. In spite of, or following along quite nicely with that whole 'noble peasant' shit.. Either that, or I've been hanging around nerds too much. All opinion anyways.

Announcement thing: came up with a simple, really neat little idea, on october 23rd, fer a webcomic.. Sketching and shit right now. Wanna get a fewpages ahead before I find a site. Don't worry none-once it's all offcial like, everyone will friggin know. will it make me money? Probably not. Being a webcomic and all. Will it get me fame? Huh? what's fame? Okay, will it get me laid? Dunno, it aint up yet. Will I feel a sense of accomplishment that I'm actually doing something? well, I can guarantee the 'doing something' part. 

Some notes about the comic: Yes, it has a name-at the moment, there's only three main characters, more to be added as time goes  on. The structure kind of fascinates me, as there's a distinct story, while at the same time being wide open for just about anything. I haven't plotted the arc for the characters, I've mostly plotted their character type, and the problems facing them. I've actually roughed out a storyline, while at the same time, fully willing to ignore it. Basically, it's simultaneously plotted, and stream of concious, which follows the way it came to me. The idea came to me in a kind of morning reverie, those dreams you have where you're almost kinda half awake. The characters, while nameless, where distinct, and the dream/daydream/idle mental wandering came to me as a question. scene and such set up, now go.

My old band used to work this way-mostly because back then, I was a bit of a fuck up. We'd hash out a basic set of parameters for each song, something resembling a chorus, a few phrases I could always resort to, if I ran out of stream of unconciousness, and needed a break while my brain thought up more crap, and we'd depend on Steve to sort of lead the way. And then we'd just go off, improv it, and the resulting mess usually (though not always. It's a risk) worked out pretty cool. That's the approach I'm taking with this. Oh, there is likely going to be a defintie story arc-I'll want to end this at some point.

Towards this end, I'm currently looking into webcomic sites that offer freehosting, cause I'se poor, y'know. Once the durned thing is up, and going (possibly a page or two a week-gotta nail down a specific schedule), I'll make with the title of the thing. And anything written in here will likely be about the webcomic. Probably direct people who are interested to here. Not that I'll be revealing storyline or anything.

I haven't done comics in a long time, so it might be a tad rough to get myself back in it, and up to speed, but I'm gonna hack away at it, and get some results.


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