Hi

I'm really happy today!

Sure know why.

:)

Hi Ea.
Karma Aspiration Langune Entité Iodinement Dérive Oisellerie Ulysse Guimauve Hurlement Salutaire Citronelle Ophilia Perspicace Ettore

My song

For the longest time, I've had a huge problem with people who claimed ownership to a song, as if the song was destined for them and them only. I perceived it as arrogant and disrespectful to the music and the musicians. Though I don't go clubbing often, I oft hear about the stereotypical white girl with her gang of friends who screeches out "OMG GIRLS THIS IS LIEK TOTALLY OUR SONG!!!!!!" when the DJ puts on a fun tune.

But after many years, I've come to the realization that if associating your being to a song has a certain healing power to the listener, who am I to judge which music belongs to who? Music, in my head, doesn't belong to anyone. The copyright belongs to whoever owns it; and there's nothing wrong with making money off music (especially if it's a musician's only livelihood). Obviously, most of the big record labels are complete money whores and really don't deserve their position on the current pyramid scale of power.

I guess the problem I had - and probably still have - is that a lot of people think that just because a song is "oh my gawd amazin'" that this somehow gives them the right to push it down others peoples throats - without being mindful that maybe the other entity likes another song just as much.

If I may make a dangerous parallel, it's very similar to the religious folk who push their religion down other peoples' throats without care that maybe their religion is only applicable to themselves and not others. There's nothing wrong with opening up the possibility that a song is amazing to someone else, but please stop there, unless you're invited to share.

On that note, I leave you with my song, or, to be more accurate, a song that I feel completely represents my life. I've tried to share songs with a close group of friends, but that didn't work out and in fact resulted in the previous blog post - all of the lyrics I remixed in Gabe (ft. Meto Kaiba) are based off my own reality. There's nothing "made up" in there. The Charm refers to my Katimavik group, if you didn't know. And I've left the facebook group that I've been in for more than a year now because I just couldn't handle how aggressive and judgemental they were of my music and my own being.

This is Solitary Shell by Dream Theater, off the "Six Degrees of Inner Turbulence" album, which is rumoured to be an album all about different types of mental illnesses. In my world, it's an album related to my spectrum theory of existence.

Please enjoy. And to me, the most important thing is for you, the reader/listener, to listen carefully to the lyrics, however enthralling the instrumentals may be.

P.S. Is anyone still interested in my audiologs? I have a great recording program, a shitty microphone, and no idea how to host my voice on my blog. Any ideas? Do leave a comment if you can!

Karma Aspiration Langune Entité Iodinement Dérive Oisellerie Ulysse Guimauve Hurlement Salutaire Citronelle Ophilia Perspicace Ettore

Gabe (ft. Meto Kaiba) version 1.0

My hope's gone cold I'm wondering why
I got out of bed at all
The morning snow clouds up my crypta
And I can't see at all
And even if I could it'd all be white
But your symbols on my wall
It reminds me that I'm not so bad;
It's not so bad

Dear Charm, I wrote but you still ain't callin'
I left my cell, my address and my home phone at the bottom
I sent plenty of letters back in autumn, you must not have read 'em
There probably was a problem at Facebook headquarters or something
Sometimes I scribble addresses too perfect when I jot 'em
But anyways, fuck it, what's been up man? Got a life yet?
Me - I fell in love, she's such a rainbow but I think she's a brunette
Look, I read about all the people you loved and hated
But I feel so afraid when you refuse to let me feel satiated
I read about all the shit you've been through; it was probably misery
But really, do you need to "Like" to get permission to write shit about me?
I know you probably hear this everyday, but I'm your greatest fan
I even have those videos that we did when we were united; like when we began
I got a box full of our memories, man
I like the shiz we did in the park; that shiz was phat
Anyways, I hope you get this guys, hit me back, just to chat, truly yours, your greatest fan
This is Gabe


My hope's gone cold I'm wondering why
I got out of bed at all
The morning snow clouds up my crypta
And I can't see at all
And even if I could it'd all be white
But your symbols on my wall
It reminds me that I'm not so bad;
It's not so bad

To be sung in the style of "Stan" by Eminem (ft. Dido).
To be continued...

Karma Aspiration Langune Entité Iodinement Dérive Oisellerie Ulysse Guimauve Hurlement Salutaire Citronelle Ophilia Perspicace Ettore

Alcohol & other drugs

Is there a place for the hopeful non-drinker, who has hurt all mankind, just to save, his own believin'?

Yeah, I remixed a lyric in One Love by Bob Marley to make a very important point.

There are very few things in the world that I'm consciously aware of that sicken me to the point where I use the word "sicken" to describe the feeling - but alcohol is one of them.

I feel I've experimented enough with ethanol to know how it affects me, and what pleasure I can derive from it. If I had to pick a spirit, I guess I'd have to say vodka is my drink of choice.

Most beer has gluten in it, and I avoid that crap as much as possible, but I have nothing against beer connoisseurs.

But you know what really grinds my gears?

When people are all like "oh man, we should totally get smashed together one more time before ____", as if alcohol is essential for human interaction.

It can be useful, but I get the feeling that SO many people rely on it to meet people/get comfortable with friends. It's really, really depressing (pun intended).

In my experience, alcohol almost always does more harm than good. So why is it even legal?

As most readers are aware, I smoke weed. Not habitually anymore, but I can easily say I've been psychologically addicted to weed in the past, and it took a lot of work to not crave a high. It's now my current theory that you learn more about coming off drugs (I consider modern weed to be a drug, but the 70s stuff, not so much...) than you do while on them, although you can learn a ton of things while high.

What am I getting at?

Well, I guess personally, I feel like people are WAY too judgmental about my choices in life. I've had plenty of people assume, straight up, that the only reason I land myself in mental hospitals is because I smoke weed. I won't deny that it may be a factor, but how on EARTH can you assume such things? How can you assume that weed is causing psychotic behaviour? Even if you try to look at it from a scientific perspective, the studies that link psychosis with weed intake never go as far as to imply a causal relationship. There's only a statistical correlation, which is almost meaningless as an argument.

And you know what I think?

If weed were completely legal (perhaps regulated similarly to alcohol), I think you'd find that the statistical correlation between psychotic tendencies and weed in the general population would completely disappear.

Always having to watch your back because you make a choice of what you wish to put into your body (remember, MY BODY; MY RULES) is not conducive to good health. In other words, the laws currently in place in Canada are landing people in mental hospitals/jails unnecessarily.

And the "Right Honourable" (rofl) Stephen Harper wants to toughen the laws? What. The. Fuck.

Food for thought.

Karma Aspiration Langune Entité Iodinement Dérive Oisellerie Ulysse Guimauve Hurlement Salutaire Citronelle Ophilia Perspicace Ettore

Ketchup, life

So I figured today is a good day for all of you to ketchup with my life.

I got accepted to UofT a few weeks ago - I'm starting in January with something called the Academic Bridging Program. I'm going to be a part-time student from January till around mid-June, when my final exam happens. Then, to paraphrase a dear friend, I'm probably going to fuck off to BC for the summer.

Then in September 2012, if all goes well with the transition program, I'll be majoring in Philosophy, still deciding on a minor. I might even decide to do a double-major if I think I can handle the workload.

Right now, I'm employed with Katimavik, doing recruitment at various schools and career fairs for min. wage, but it's a sweet job and I've done it before. It really gives me a sense of doing something positive for the world instead of working at say, Mc.Dic's (making the world a shittier place for just about everyone since 1940!).

Today, I'm hopefully going to go play badminton. I'm not practicing nearly as much as I want to, but I don't have a reliable partner available right now, and that really sucks.

Card of the day:

Karma Aspiration Langune Entité Iodinement Dérive Oisellerie Ulysse Guimauve Hurlement Salutaire Citronelle Ophilia Perspicace Ettore

Fruity noms

So after a lot of reflection, I'm rediscovering my childhood.
I think it's a great thing, especially with all the heavy shit I've been dealing with lately.

Today I went to a games hobby centre (where the nerdiest of the nerds congregate) and challenged a couple people to a duel in Yu-Gi-Oh. SO MUCH FUN!

I brought my deck which I hadn't touched in... oh, EIGHT years, and promptly got my ass kicked.

Apparently, 8 years worth of new booster packs, new rules and a new set of forbidden cards is enough to destroy my beautiful "Legendary Ocean" water deck.

The game got SO much more complicated.

If you don't know about the game, it's similar to pokemon trading cards. You're trying to defeat your opponent by bringing their life points down to zero, using cards that inflict "damage". It's so sweet. It's similar to Magic: The Gathering, as well.

In another news, here are some fruity noms for you:

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Moving forward

So apparently, my blog audience has grown substantially since my last few posts. I'm really happy about this!
And thank you to all those who sent me heartfelt compliments on my writing, I really, really appreciate your support.

However, it seems a few people seem to think they know what's "best" for me. Some of them close friends, others mere acquaintances. To those people, please don't try to tell me what's best for me and my body. You're definitely not helping. I appreciate your concern, and I know you're trying to help, but please read on.

It's true, I don't really trust psychiatrists. I'm not saying they're all evil, but after going what I've been through, I feel I'm in a good position to relate my story from a patient's point of view.

Drugs aren't inherently good for the human body. Especially not pharmaceutical drugs. That's why there are side effects. The body doesn't recognize the foreign substance, and tries to repel it. The human body is smart.

I'm not saying drugs are bad. Some drugs have saved plenty of lives, and that's fine.

HOWEVER.

Trying to treat things like "psychosis" with pills and denying all other forms of therapy as potentially equal or better, in my opinion, is a terrible, terrible mistake.
Psychiatrists everywhere try to control the mentally sick with their fucked up "medicine" that they themselves have no idea of their origin. When I asked my assigned doctor in the hospital what they were injecting in me, the only answer they could really provide was "don't worry, it'll help you".

To that I say, and pardon the crudeness, FUCK YOU. You have NO idea what's good for my body. You have an idea of what's good for the general population, but NOT my body. Especially if I refuse your blood tests. You gave me a fucking panic attack, you didn't help me at all.

MY BODY; MY RULES.

And then, when you really need help, and they try to show you that mental illness is "just like" a physical illness like diabetes or a broken leg, they're using RHETORIC to convince you to take their bloody expensive pills.
In logic terms, we call this a FAULTY analogy.

Here's an example of a discussion about pill-taking I had with a psychiatrist once:


P: Don't you see? There's nothing to be ashamed of by taking a pill to help cure you. It's just like diabetes. If you had diabetes, you wouldn't deny the taking of insulin, would you?


G: I see what you did there. First of all, by definition, diabetes is a physical illness, not a mental one. Someone who is diabetic is deficient in insulin. I am NOT deficient in your drug. My body doesn't need your drug to function. Never has, probably never will. My body is probably deficient in nutrients, somewhere, but your drug doesn't help that. You might say it does, but really, it just cuts off the symptoms, and even then, it doesn't even do it that well. What my body needs is proper nutrition, proper vitamins and minerals, and if need be, I can boost it with supplements. But the human body always strives to be in homeostasis, otherwise we'd all be sick, all the time.


See, but trying to get psychiatrists to see this is like talking to a brick wall. They don't give a fuck about the truth, they just want to keep their jobs and the money associated with it.

Money should not control health. EVER.

I take herbal remedies, and they work. And no, they're not all "homeopathic" (they sure do love to pick on this word, though). I don't need your fucked up animal studies to show me that your pills are better, because they're not. What you're doing to me, the animals, and the plants you've immorally harvested to "cure" me is EVIL.

That is all for today, friends.

Oh, if you're into trance, I've kinda loved this song for a long, long time now.

Try to listen to all of it, if you can.

Karma Aspiration Langune Entité Iodinement Dérive Oisellerie Ulysse Guimauve Hurlement Salutaire Citronelle Ophilia Perspicace Ettore

Grounding food

So having just been released from the most inhumane place I've ever visited, I was very hungry.
They did feed me quite well, respecting my gluten-free diet, but the food was still... hospital food, what can I say.

However, I came home famished, and decided to make a quick snack:
I don't have a name for it yet, but it's really, really tasty. Lots of spices and Omega-3s, and just enough carbs to keep the brain happy. The protein is ham and Mennonite salami.

The Mental Hospital

Tuesday November 15th, 2011

It has been one day since I've been imprisoned against my will inside this dysfunctional hospital. I was forced to take an Ativan injection - tied down and needled and all - for some unknown reason. But there is hope, very much hope at the end of this sickly tunnel.

How do I know this?

Well, when I was first brought here, I met an incredibly beautiful girl. Just my type: amazingly coloured hair, bright eyes and a lot of fiery enthusiasm. She's really sparkly, and radiates emotional passion.

Anyway, she and her friend J (who was not a patient at the hospital) were the only two people who seemed sane. We chatted for great lengths on how messed up the "system" is (duh), and how badly we wanted to take it down.

But back to this gorgeous girl... she gave me her FB account info before we parted ways to different wards, and I want to take her dancing. She even said, when she was in the bed lying next to me, "Ughhh, let's just go DANCE!". But as we couldn't because there were too many bastard doctors around. We both wanted to sing. She might still be in the hospital, but in a different ward.

It is now much later during the day, and my sister and mother came to visit me. They didn't really talk about all that much. My mother has worrying issues. My sister was more understanding, really. Just before their visit, I met a psychiatrist, Dr. Parker, who seemed pretty nice. She did ask why I didn't want any pills, but she didn't seem to care what my reasons for refusing them were. Instead, she used a faulty analogy to "convince" me that taking "Olanzapine/Risperidone" would be good for me.

Wednesday, Nov 16th, 2011

The lights are on! No, not the metaphorical lights, the actual lights. I feel I have a clearer understanding of what's going on in this place, and how to make it better (at least for myself...). It is a scary place, however. People seem to cling to other people who seem to have some sort of level-headedness. Already, 2-3 people have been clinging to me, telling me all about their life without really caring about my voice. Soon, however:

MUSIC SHALL SET US FREE.

It already has for me.

April 2013 edit: Looking back on this now, it still amazes me that the time I spent there was less than a week. I wrote this while I had nothing to do in my room, and later transcribed it to my blog. Nothing has been changed. However, I do regret a few things that I said, such as saying that my mother has worrying "issues". Honestly, if I had a kid in an asylum, I'd be pretty freaked out and worried too.

I did end up seeing this girl later on when she got out and we had chatted on Skype. We played a game of hide and seek in High Park, and later on we hung out at her folks' place for a bit and played some card games. Nothing romantic happened, but we were clearly just starting to form a friendship.

This story has a sad ending. Another day, we met up at my place, and we had a bit of a verbal spar/disagreement over me borrowing her Scott Pilgrim books and having misplaced them. I found them the next day and dropped it off at her folks' place, and never heard from her again.

Karma Aspiration Langune Entité Iodinement Dérive Oisellerie Ulysse Guimauve Hurlement Salutaire Citronelle Ophilia Perspicace Ettore

Kitty City

So as you know, reader, I don't usually link to other content; I much prefer to create it myself, or at least, remix it somehow.

However, I'm kinda tired today after spending the afternoon checking out Occupy Toronto. What an incredible place! I'm going back tomorrow with my djembe to join the drum circle there, and I'll probably do some other stuff too. If you're in Toronto and you're reading this, I'd be happy to see you there tomorrow at 2:00-ish.

Anyway.

Enjoy this hilarity:

Indifferent sociality

I open the blue page.
If I see some red over the blue, I click on it, and hope that it's someone trying to contact me.
If it's not directly for me, I hope it's at least related to me, or The Charm.
If it's neither of those, I feel disappointed.

If it's someone new asking for a +1, I gladly check them out and accept or reject them.
If it's someone I already knew but who was somehow taken off my list, I have to decide whether it was a mistake or if it was deliberate. If it's a mistake, I'll probably add them again. If it's deliberate, I wonder what happened.

Once all the red is gone, I check the middle of the page. Everything all looks the same to me after a while. I don't go down the list and click "Like" on stuff I like, because the more I do it, the less it really means.

If I see some of J's newest pictures, I make an effort to look at them, and sometimes comment on them.
If I see pictures of a cute girl I like, or once fell in love with, I browse through them for a while until I feel sad about the fact that the potential for me to be with her is approaching zero. I then remind myself that they're just pictures.

If I see someone posting about something to someone else who I don't actually know, I wonder why I'm reading it at all.
If I see someone having a good time in Katimavik somewhere, I feel nostalgic, and then I feel happy about the fact that Katimavik is still going strong.

If I see one of my internet friends doing random adventures, I feel a longing to adventure with them; somewhere mysterious and not in my world. I then remind myself that I'm too far away to make anything awesome happen.

I then drag my eyes over to the right side of the page and see a list of people that I vaguely know but who I'm not actually friends with. I then click on the X repeatedly, skimming over all these people that I'm connected with by the 2nd degree, never bothering to actually add them.

Finally, I switch the main algorithm to Most Recent so that the machine doesn't fuck too much with the friends in my brain.

What's your FB ritual?

Karma Aspiration Langune Entité Iodinement Dérive Oisellerie Ulysse Guimauve Hurlement Salutaire Citronelle Ophilia Perspicace Ettore