Miracle on Riot!

For my next Paramore song, I've chosen Miracle from their second studio album, Riot!.

Strangely enough, this is the song that got me into Paramore. The first song I learned by heart. The first song I clearly remembering listening to and falling in love with Hayley's voice.

I say "strangely" because it seems like this song is virtually unknown. I've never heard anyone mentioning it and I've never heard it played at one of their live shows. I've never seen it quoted by anyone, and yet it's on Riot!, an album full of rocking songs. I think that may be it: Riot! is full of really powerful songs and this one just gets overshadowed.

How I relate to this song
Right off the bat, the guitar picks up and soon enough, Hayley chimes in with:

I've gone for too long
Living like I'm not alive
So I'm going to start over tonight
Beginning with you and I

When I hear these lyrics, it stirs me into mental action. A realization of sorts. I tell myself: "Wow, I have been living like I'm not alive. Doing the same old routine, running in circles all the time and not paying attention to the beauty that is life all around me. I need to change that right now." But how?

Queue the chorus.

I'm not going 'cause I've been waiting for a miracle
And I'm not leaving
I won't let you, let you give up on a miracle
When it might save you

Simply, this gives me hope that there is magic in life. That there are miracles, however invisible, and that life is not all mundane and that there is sacredness if you choose to believe in it. "Lyra" exemplifies this for me.

We've learned to run from
Anything uncomfortable
We've tied our pain below
And no one ever has to know

That inside we're broken
I try to patch things up again
To count my tears and kill these fears
But have I told you, have I?

Wow. Powerful stuff. I see a lot of the wisdom that is the lyricism of Williams and Farro, back when Joshua was still in the band.
This section of the song, to me, speaks about human instincts, running away from what we do not want in our lives. And it speaks about the shadow, the darkness that we hide from others in order to appear sane. But it also illustrates the capacity to heal things.

We'll get it right this time
It's not faith if you're using your eyes

That particular lyric, "It's not faith if you're using your eyes", confounds me. But that's the cool thing about music. You don't need to understand what something means to feel it inside.

I've noticed a pattern, related to a particular lyric in "Brick by Boring Brick", a song from their third album. I'll see if I can make a link when I take a look at this incredible song in a future analysis, but here's the lyric if you want to try and see a connection:

If it's not real
You can't hold it in your hand
You can't feel it with your heart
And I won't believe it
But if it's true
You can see it with your eyes
Oh, even in the dark

Alright, that's enough Paramore writing for the day.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Conspiracy

I've been asked a couple times why I'm so much into Paramore; why I go to all their shows, buy their memorabilia, and idolize Hayley. It's simple. Their songs lift my spirits and untangle my sometimes confusing reality. They help me explain the unexplainable, reason the unreasonable, and provide me with hope in my periods of despair.

So for my own sake, I figured I'd try and relate how I feel with some of their songs. Here's the first one. It's not my favourite, but I relate to it at an intellectual and somewhat emotional level. It's called Conspiracy, from their first studio album All we know is falling.

 

How I relate to this song
The song begins with the lyrics:

Please speak softly, for they will hear us
And they'll find out why we don't trust them. 

There was a time in my life where I was very paranoid; where I was locked up in an institution and the psychiatrists and the nurses were trying to help me and get me to talk about what I was thinking. I never could trust them enough to tell them anything, so I spoke softly to Lyra instead.

The bridge goes:
Where can I turn? 'Cause I need something more
Surrounded by uncertainty, I'm so unsure
Tell me why I feel so alone 
'Cause I need to know to whom do I owe

I relate this to my paranoia and loneliness, unable to make decisions on my own. And unsure who to turn to.

The chorus starts:
Explain to me this conspiracy against me

There was a time in my life when that would have been nice.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Screaming

My mind is screaming at me. "No, no, no! Start your essay! Don't procrastinate. Send an e-mail to your contact who can help you write it! You know he has a degree in Linguistics, and that he's multilingual, and that he's more than happy to help you write a good essay."

My mind keeps screaming. To quiet the terror of an essay due in only a few days, I decide to write. Better to write than mindlessly consume media on Reddit. I was about to do that, but then I realized that I get terribly lost living vicariously through other people's ideas.

The terror subsides. As long as my fingers move, the despair can't catch up to me. It clutches at me every moment I pause and think about how little time is left in this semester. So I keep writing, hoping that the calm ocean of solitude that my words create keep the monster at bay.

I know I can't swim in this ocean forever, else I get lost and sink, but at least the feeling of being protected allows me to think more rationally.

Okay. A deep breath. I know I can write. I know I have the capacity to string sentences together, and paragraphs, and sections, and I know my capacity to create arguments is there somewhere. But five to eight pag- NO. Stop.

I have found valour's blade once more. Not unlike when Harry Potter summons Gryffindor's sword from the sorting hat and slays the serpent, so too shall I slay this monster of an essay.

"You had so much ti-" SLICE.
"You're wasting tim-" SLASH.
"You're probably going to get a bad ma-" STAB.

The pen is as mighty as the sword.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Coco

Yesterday evening, I was walking to campus after having bought a new djembe at a local African drums & crafts store. As this store was located near the Kensington Market, I had decided I would walk through the market to get to Woodsworth College at UofT, just north and slightly east of Kensington.

As I walking up Augusta, I heard crying and at the same time, saw a young woman seated on a bench with her open purse lying beside her. She was wailing uncontrollably and although it was nighttime, there were still a few passersby walking on the sidewalk, completely ignoring this clearly distraught woman.

I'll admit, the first thought that popped into my head was: "I should probably just keep walking". But that thought lasted only for a split second as I felt the need to at least go talk to her and reassure her and maybe see what was going on.

I sat down beside the young woman and asked her what was wrong. I'm not sure if she answered (or even attempted to), but her crying subsided somewhat and I asked her if she wanted a hug. Still no words escaped her mouth until I had wrapped my arms around her (and her arms around me) and I heard her say, very softly: "T-thank you".

I asked again what was wrong, and she either didn't seem to want to talk about it or did not understand, so I questioned her no further. I told her, in somewhat jumbled words: "Whatever is going on right now in your life... don't worry, it's all going to be okay". She stopped crying and smiled and thanked me again. She then asked me where I was from, if I was from Canada. I told her I was from here, from Toronto, and that I had lived here all my life.

It was at that moment that I realized that she was not from here. I needlessly asked her if she was from Canada, to which she replied: "No. Japan."
Being very fond of Japan and its culture (despite how little I know of it), I smiled and said: "Really? Awesome! Where in Japan?"

She did not seem to understand what I said (I might have been mumbling), but I asked her if she was from Tokyo. She was! So I asked her what she was up to in Canada, and she told me: "I work at Ali Baba's".
"Oh, the shawarma place! Yum!"
She laughed a bit and seemed much happier.
I asked her what her name was, and she told me "Coco".

I wrote down my e-mail for her and told her to write if she needed anything, and that my name was Gabriel. I did not want to pressure her into telling her life story to a total stranger, so I thought that was the best course of action.

As I got up to walk away, I thought I heard her say: "Wow. What a funny bag!"
She was referring to my djembe carrying case that I was wearing as a very large backpack. I realized how strange it might have looked to her eyes. But since our goodbyes had already been said, I continued to walk toward my destination and did not look back.

-

In retrospect, I wondered many things. Maybe I should have stuck around longer. Maybe she needed someone to talk to, despite the language barrier. Maybe she had been kicked out and needed a warm place to stay. Had I said enough to comfort her?

But in the back of my mind, that constant societal reminder not to be "creepy" lurked and stopped me from doing anything more. Still, this fleeting moment I shared with Coco made me feel alive; human; and reminds me that I am not a mindless drone devoid of compassion. No, I am Gabriel and I care about the world and its inhabitants.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Gone in 37 seconds

Red bike, stand out, tuck in, lock secured.

Slick tuque, windproof jacket, rain drizzling, speedily pedaling on Davenport Rd.

Night falls, lights on, mind off, wind blowing on my face.

Race by the still cars, freedom just beyond the lights, shadows from the lampposts fade behind me.

Turn signal on, lose the grip on the handlebar, soar through the biosphere.

Black asphalt, grey sidewalk, yellow crossings blink on and off.

Lose track of time, win the rat race, brake fast, and stash bike away.

Signed,

Kaleidoughscope

Creeping in

I see you, dark angel. I see you lurking just beyond where my eyes can see. You were gone for a good while, leaving nothing behind except for traces of your gluttony. And during that time, the light angel showed me heaven.

Now you dare creep back into my life after having been gone for so little time? You are not welcome. And this time, your curses will not linger for very long. I built up my defences. She helped me. You might have taken down one wall, but I have a veritable fortress standing in your way. You will not pierce it.

The light angel is stronger. She always was, I just never realized it as much as I do now. Your attempts shall all be in vain. I will not succumb to your temptations of comfort and safety.

I have the blade. And I intend to use it.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Monkeying Around

I am the seasoned traveler of the Labyrinth.
The genius of alacrity, wizard of the impossible.
My brilliance is yet unmatched in its originality.
My heart is filled with potent magic that could cast a hundred spells.
I am put together for mine own pleasure.

Source: Deviantart

I am the Monkey.

Source: Theodora Lau

Run, Escape, Hide, ?

Run.
You can't get far.
Escape. You can, for a while.
Hide. You always have the choice;
At the edge of valour's blade.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

She'll stop the whole world

For years, I've felt the world growing into a monster, and, not knowing how to stop it, I turned the world into something to wage war against.

But the battle has already been won, and it was never mine to fight.

And now, the future is at hand.

Pour your (crazy) heart out

It's all okay. It's all okay. It's  all okay. It's all going to be okay. It's all okay. She's here. Lyra's here.
It's okay. You're not crazy. No, don't look the word up crazy in the dictionary, that's just stupid.
What if...
No, you're not crazy.
Screw Holden Caulfield.
Did that feel good?
A little bit.
I feel like editing. I looked up already and I found a mistake.
No, you don't feel like editing. Who cares. Get yourself an editor if you wanna write.

Mesmerized for a little while, there.
Neat, huh?
Yeah, I always knew you could do that.
Knowing and feeling are very, very different, honey.

Shh! Keep your voice down.
Why? There's no one here except me and you.
But in the future, like... someone might read this and they might start thinking ideas about all this.
Right, and that would be bad because...?
Oh hell, I feel like erasing stuff already.
...
Actually, after a bit of reflection, it's all good.
You didn't answer my question, you know.
Oh! Right. Well, I'm going to explain what I was thinking. Okay. This ain't easy to remember.
-He closes his eyes and tunes into the space music playing from the radio-
The theme, it has to be fear. Fear and surprise, surprise and fea-
That's already too much Monty Python for me, dear. Do try and be serious.
Okay. Let me try again.
-Pause-
I was afraid. I am afraid. I am afraid of being judged for acting outside of society's limits. I'm also paralyzed with this fear when I think back to the moments in the past where I was so very alone; so lost and searching endlessly for the external proof.
Try and relate it to what we're talking about.
Well, see, I'm writing here, and practically anyone in the world can read this if they so choose to. And there's just so much talk about privacy online these days, so that's got me worried for some reason.
-Pause-
But at the same time, I desperately want all this to be read.

Sweet dreams.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Pong

Sometimes I walk back and forth between the two doors in my room and pretend I'm a pong ball . It really helps with the existential crises.

Feminisms

So I'm at Robarts library, spending a quiet Saturday catching up on my readings. I'm somewhat behind, but luckily the next couple weeks seem pretty uneventful, at least as far as course work goes.

I wouldn't say I'm passionate about any of my courses this year (since a lot of the work is just meaningless regurgitation of material), but I find myself surprised by one of them: Intro to Women & Gender Studies. Now, I'll be honest: I decided to enrol in this course partly because it's one of the few courses left at UofT that are full-year. I much prefer these to the half-year scrambles that I'm regrettably having to get accustomed to.

However, another reason I took this course is because I'd met the prof at an orientation event at the beginning of the year. Her obvious passion for teaching had really impressed me, so I decided to enrol in her course knowing that even if I was disinterested in the material, at least I'd have a decent prof.

Surprise! I find myself enjoying not only the lectures, but also quite a bit of the material - a great recipe for success in university. So, why do I like it? Well, for starters, it covers a large range of topics. For example: One week, we had a discussion on gender and sex construction in intersex individuals and the history of their acceptance in society. Another week, we studied the impact that colonialism had on aboriginal women and traditional native divisions of power. And now, we're currently looking at the role that women play in building nations, both literally and figuratively.

One article I especially liked was actually the first reading the prof gave to us. And it really changed the way I thought about something I didn't really know much about at the time: feminism.

Basically, the author (Shashi Deshpand) argues that feminism, for some reason, is often seen in a negative light - both by men, and women. I found one particular statistic fascinating: sixty-three percent of American women reject feminism, according to a recent issue of Time.

The author goes on to mention how she often met women who would preface their sentences with "I'm not a feminist, but...".

I, too, have encountered this phenomenon in the past. Not being very knowledgeable with feminist ideology, I then assumed that feminism must be a bad thing, since some of my female friends so often rejected it.

But, according to Shashi, feminism is nothing at all like what the popular stereotypes might portray: it's not about being anti-men; it's not about being super vocal and preaching to people; and it's definitely not about waging a war against the other sex for dominance.

So, then, what is feminism? I could try and sum up what I know, but I'd rather wait and see what I've learnt from something I actually care about outside of school. Suffice to say, I think feminism is part of a greater movement to make the world a much, much better place for all.

And now, I must return to inundating my brain with complex Marxian texts for my Soc class. Oh, joy.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Relaxed Free Writing

Writing is supposed to be personal sometimes. I wonder if free writing is something that should be kept personal. After all, the first few times I did free writing, I was doing it in a Grade 10 english class in a room full of silent students scribbling away random thoughts from their heads onto the page. And the only person who would ever get to read these scribbles were the teacher and myself. I don't really remember the things I wrote, but it was (and still is) a very enjoyable activity for me.

Dead mice. Okay. Well, just a few minutes ago, I was getting some fresh air when I found a dead mouse lying beside the house. It was really cute, so I picked it up and it had very fluffy fur. I tried to find a wound or something that would indicate how it died, but nothing was apparent. In fact, its eyes were kinda half-closed and if I didn't know any better, I would say it was just sleeping. Really, it's a bit sad. There are three cats who live here, and they're all excellent hunters. I wouldn't mind so much if they actually ate the mice, but they never do. They just play around with them and paw them repeatedly until they stop moving and then they get bored. Well, I guess I should be grateful. The mice get especially annoying when I'm trying to sleep and I hear soft but audible scratches inside the walls of my room.

Relationships. Okay. I have a number of friends who are in a relationship right now, and it seems so... strange. Two of my friends have been living together for a while now, and they're basically inseparable because they're always together. It makes me wonder. What do they talk about? Every day, they're spending time together, making decisions together; essentially, living life... together.
Maybe it's nice. You can confide in someone. Someone can take care of you if you're hurt. You can probably get cheaper rent. Really, a whole lot of practicality. I don't really know what I mean when I say it seems strange. It just seems so coincidental that two people like each other and now they do things together.

Muscles. Well, I have a solid workout bench in my room that I never use. I took it out of the cold room a month or so ago, and I used it once. I was all like: "Okay! Every day, I'm going to workout. Simple, right?". So I did some sit-ups, and my back started hurting because there's a dip in the bench and my SI joint gets jammed there and I used that as an excuse not to do anything with it anymore. It's pretty stupid. And now the bench and the free weights sit there, taunting me, holding promises of glory and muscle toning while I lie down in my bed and enjoy the comfort zone. Really, I do want to get in shape. Like, actually get in shape. Lose-40-pounds-and-get-some-definition kinda thing. The reasons for wanting this are obvious, but in my mind's eye I see a time not so long ago where I was doing yoga every day and I was in the best shape of my life. And I had confidence. And it feels really silly to talk about, but I think because I was exuding all this good energy and confidence, it's what led to me having my first kiss and sharing a short-lived intimate bond with someone. Oooooooooh.

Here's an idea among many others. Maybe I could use my blog as a sort of workout journal. Oh, I wouldn't make it too fancy, and I wouldn't want to go into too much detail because no one would care, but maybe keeping a little log here and there would help me keep on track with workout goals. Maybe a count of how many sit-ups I could do today, or how many pounds I'm doing with bicep curls. Maybe a description of different routines I'm trying out. Sounds kinda exciting, actually. I think it would help because my main problem is lack of discipline. It's always been a recurring problem of mine. And I've found that I've always liked writing, and this blog helped me keep on writing for so many years. Maybe it could do the same for my getting-in-shape goal.

I'm going to follow through this time. I can do it. Little by little, I will be a better person.

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Timothy Leary and stuff

"Admit it. You aren’t like them. You’re not even close. You may occasionally dress yourself up as one of them, watch the same mindless television shows as they do, maybe even eat the same fast food sometimes. But it seems that the more you try to fit in, the more you feel like an outsider, watching the “normal people” as they go about their automatic existences. For every time you say club passwords like “Have a nice day” and “Weather’s awful today, eh?”, you yearn inside to say forbidden things like “Tell me something that makes you cry” or “What do you think déjà vu is for?”. Face it, you even want to talk to that girl in the elevator. But what if that girl in the elevator (and the balding man who walks past your cubicle at work) are thinking the same thing? Who knows what you might learn from taking a chance on conversation with a stranger? Everyone carries a piece of the puzzle. Nobody comes into your life by mere coincidence. Trust your instincts. Do the unexpected. Find the others…”

-Timothy Leary

Picture unrelated.

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October Red

Days spent idle as the time goes by.
It seems like time accelerates as you get older.
Where did the past go?

School is keeping me mostly busy. It's not as overwhelming as I thought it would be.
I had a writing assignment to do last weekend about some classic sociologists. I was surprised that I managed to finish it all on the weekend, considering it's worth a decent chunk of my mark. It felt good to finish my first written assignment of the school year so quickly.

I lost my phone... again. This makes me very sad. I haven't had it for a little while now, and I miss it. Luckily, I have insurance that covers it, but it's a lot of hassle all because of a rascal on the TTC who never returned it.

I should go on adventures more often. Then I could blog some more about it. I have nothing really eventful to talk about, except maybe that I played some ultimate frisbee and soccer this weekend. And I'm also part of a little badminton club at UofT. That's about all, though.

Bye.

P.S. Paramore concert in a month!

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Un petit compte allégorique

Un sourire, cachant une multitude de pensées.
Un regard, illustrant des milliers de reflexions.
Et une image camouflé dans un visage.

Je ne comprendrais jamais pourquoi tu te cache.
Et si je comprenais, je saurais comment te trouver et peut être nous pourrions vivre simplement, tous les deux.
Mais les nuits allongent et le temps accélère; et malgré mes souhaits bienveillants, je retombe dans ma noirceur.

Un de ces jours, je saurais comment allonger le temps et je te retrouverais.
Et quand cela arrivera, je sourirais à nouveau.

The edge of Sorrow's Blade

Lights sings about being at the edge of Sorrow's Blade. I don't quite know what it means, but for some reason I always find myself contemplating this metaphor inside my head.

I can't say I've been sad (or sorrowful, for that matter) for most of my life, least of all my childhood. I've never been diagnosed with depression, but I have been diagnosed with Bipolar Type 2; supposedly, this "disease" comes with periods of depression. It's just a label. It's just a label.
Maybe I've been wielding the sword for so long now that I'm just used to it, and I just don't see it as depression.

I'm often bursting with creativity - even in my periods of sadness or despair. It's rare that I actually act on the convoluted mass of creativity that swirls around in my head, but I like to think that this blog is an outlet that releases this creativity in a purposeful way. At the very least, I work on my writing skills.

In some of my more creative episodes, I end up endlessly theorizing the world. I come up with wild and often far-fetched theories that explain existence and phenomena; basically, what a scientist would call "pseudo-science". I don't care what you label it as, the truth is I come up with these ideas on a whim and sometimes even feel them. It's really difficult to explain. But I know that most of these ideas are often crazy and make no sense in the contemporary world. So I don't readily share them - even on this blog.

In fact, I feel like a lot of my words on here are merely substitutes for what I really think and feel. I don't know, have you ever met someone who could express themselves with absolute clarity? I haven't. So maybe it's not so crazy after all that I pour myself onto the page, month after month, year after year.

To end this post, I've decided to transcribe a few bullet points I found stashed away in an old journal of mine.

There are many reasons why one could find themselves at the edge of Sorrow's Blade. Here's a list from my own personal experience:

• Heartbreak
• Loneliness
• Broken friendship
• Cruelty in the world
• Environmental destruction
• Disconnection from the natural realm
• Lack of connection with spiritualists
• Blatant abuse of power for personal gain
• Harsh words
• Inability to communicate with others

It's not a very long list, and some are kinda silly (harsh words? dunno what I was thinking when I wrote that), but you get the point.

The Back Campus

What it used to look like.

What it looks like now

Here comes the astroturf.

This is why I want to be an environmentalist.

Cellphones

So I finally got a new cellphone after months of not being connected.
But I shouldn't even call my new cell a phone. I mean, it -is- a smartphone, but it's more of a camera than anything. Of course, it does everything else too, and it does it really, really well.

On that note, I want to share with you a great article I just read that breaks down all the rhetoric bullshit that ROBELLUS (aka the big three) has been spewing at the Canadian people for a couple months now.
Recently, you might have noticed ads that advocated for Canadians to "stand up for what's fair". Essentially, ROBELLUS wants their customers to fight for them to prevent Verizon and other companies from bringing competition to the Canadian wireless industry. They argue that this competition is unfair for Canadian business and that it will actually drive up prices (?!).

It's really quite incredible the amount of straight-up lying and deceit the big three have been spreading around to ensure that their 90%+ monopoly of the wireless market goes unchallenged.

It's a quick read, and I highly recommend you become informed so that in the future, we may actually get decent prices for wireless service in Canada.

Written by the CEO of Wind Mobile (the only independent wireless company operating in Canada). Link

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Wonder and the Gaia Improbability

As I prepare to enter second-year, I find myself wondering - as I often do - "why is the world the way it is?". And in these complex thought patterns, of which the "why" is omnipresent, I sometimes find myself in a state of cognitive dissonance - a state where I believe in one thing but my actions speak differently.

Here's a quick tangent: it seems foolish to abandon the innate childhood sense of wonder. If every child does this, perhaps it means we are hardwired to question reality; and I believe it is only through this questioning that we really gain a sense of who we are in the world. Through social conditioning, however, a good number of us dismiss the "why" and simply accept the "because".

So, you'll have to excuse my lack of consideration of social norms and indulge me whilst I recount to you a dilemma that I wish to explore.

This dilemma is none other than the biggest problem the Earth ("Gaia", from here on in) is facing right now; that is, ecological destruction effected by Homo sapiens.

Let me dive right into it. There has been a great amount of effort by "moral entrepreneurs" to get people to "go green". You see car manufacturers selling "eco-friendly" cars (an oxymoron, in my opinion), you see vegans giving you dirty looks when you walk around with meat (how rude!), and you see packaging companies advertising that their box is 27% more "environmentally friendly" than before (whatever that means).

But see, I have beef with all this. Don't get me wrong; I have nothing against the idea of people trying to save Gaia in whatever way they can manage. It is a noble cause, after all. No; I have something against the manner in which moral entrepreneurs go about trying to rescue the world. The current trend is to recycle (okay), reduce (good), and re-use (good). But this trend is being ingrained in people; not businesses.

Corporations, governments or otherwise organized entities are the ones that got us into this mess by making us want to buy things. By convincing us that we need to get a good job, that we need a new car, that we need to invest in the economy - all for the sake of living a comfortable, if not luxurious life - we are forced to sacrifice great expanses of pristine land and, by extension, biodiversity.

And yet the burden of trying to fix things - because we have to, otherwise the aforementioned things don't even exist - is on the individual. Still more, businesses manage to profit from that burden by selling us things that we think are "green".

So here's my impractical solution. Instead of spending money on trying to convince people to go green, why not get businesses to be as environmentally responsible as the next? Every business ends up being on the same level playing field, being limited by the potential environmental impact instead of being driven by competition. 

Let me explain.

If we prevent resources from being consumed at the rate that they are being used right now, then we can slow down the degradation of Gaia and, ideally, restore a symbiotic relationship with Her.

How do we accomplish that? Well, I've identified the problem as being greed - businesses wanting to make lots of money.

What's the most common way for a business (i.e. one that has a relative environmental impact) to make money? By exploiting resources, and then selling manufactured goods at a premium. 

Our governments enact policies that put us in a perpetual battle, pitting the environment versus the "economy", where the losing side is more often than not mother nature. But the war cannot be won by us. In the end, we are only destroying ourselves (relevant!)[Update: This is a dead link as of 2019!]. The result is that while most of us in the first world live in luxurious comfort, a great number of Homo sapiens alive today live either in sickness and/or poverty.

But what if we could stop stop the "profit above all else" mentality dead in its tracks? We'd stop the deluge of unbridled consumerism that is ravaging Gaia every day and be left with an economy that is entirely sustainable and that co-exists peacefully with the environment. The shopping frenzy instilled in each and every individual to some degree would dwindle, and we would return to peaceful harmony with the natural world around us.

I could go into greater detail, using such works as Aldo Leopold's Land Ethic, and Thomas Berry's The Dream of the Earth as foundations, but I will reserve this discourse until I at the very least start my environmental ethics courses at UofT. :)

Take care.

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Paramore AND Lights!

Okay. I'm super super excited right now!
If you've been reading my blog for some time now, you might be aware that I love Paramore.
And if you've been reading my blog for some longer time, you might -also- be aware that I love Lights.

My two favourite bands (and in fact, the only two artists from whom I've ever bought CDs) are touring together! They're coming to the ACC on the 20th of November! AHHHH. I've NEVER been this excited to see a concert in my ENTIRE life!

I might just have to dish out the big bucks to get some really good seats. Usually, I don't care too much as long as I can see the band... but considering that these are absolutely my two favourite musical groups, the situation warrants me getting prime seats!

It's kinda eerie, actually. I've always wished they would tour together... And my wish is coming true! It's unbelievable. I had to do a double-take when I saw the announcement on a Paramore forum just now.

Even though they're somewhat different styles (Paramore is pop rock, Lights is synth/electro pop), I think they're going to mesh really well together. Hayley (lead singer of Paramore) and Lights (that's her legal name! :D) are incredible performers, and I've had the amazing opportunity to see them live before.

Siiiiiick.

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Victoriam in Astronomia

Having had a bit of white zinfandel, I am now in a position to expand on matters of universal concern.
Here's an (abridged) "Socratic" conversation I had with one of my pah-ren-tals today.
Keep in mind that this conversation is taking place with someone who has a bachelor's degree in Chemistry.

Me: I have a thought experiment!
P: I love thought experiments!
Me: Here goes. What is matter made of?
P: Well... *after much hesitation and a couple questions* atoms.
Me: Great! What are atoms made of?
P: *after a slight hesitation*  Empty space.
Me: Well, technically, yes, but I mean the matter.
P: Electrons.
Me: And?
P: Neutrons and protons.
Me: Yeah!
P: ???
Me: Let's keep going. What is the universe made of?
P: ???
Me: Well?
P: Well, matter of course.
Me: And what is matter made of?
P: Ummm...
*I start the experiment again*
P: Atoms.
Me: Indeed. But did you know that the atomic theory only explains about 10% of the what the universe is made of? We really have no clue what the 90% is, but we call it "dark matter" and "dark energy".
P: I've never heard of that.
Me: Well, it's true. The observable universe is 100% explained with the atomic theory, but that 100% only explains 10% of the actual universe.
Me: Given this fact, I find it absurd that people who absolutely adore SCIENCE denigrate against other, "lesser" worldviews.

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Day 3 without Facebook

It's my birthday today.
No one has called me to wish me "happy birthday!" as of 5:00 pm.
No one has texted me to wish me "happy birthday!", but this point is moot because I don't have a cellphone at this present time.
I have received three e-mails today that wished me happy birthday: one from Badminton Central, one from Plenty of Fish, and one from my friend Kaylie, who is in Australia.
Two people on Skype have wished me happy birthday, but only after Skype notified them. They are mostly strangers to me.

You might be wondering: "Gabe, why are you being so whiny? It's not like you wished me happy birthday when my birthday rolled around!"
To that, I answer that two wrongs don't make a right.
The more important answer is that we're probably not good enough friends for me to a) have your cell # and/or b) I likely wouldn't be one of the people you'd invite to your birthday party.
I also can't keep up with the flood of birthdays that Facebook imposes on me. With Facebook gone for now, I feel it's more likely than before that I -will- wish you happy birthday, whenever it rolls around.

I do not have the funds, nor the desire to go get drunk at a pub like so many of my other friends do when their birthday rolls around. I would rather go on an adventure, or go to a park and maybe get drunk there, like my friend Mark and his crew once did earlier this summer. That was fun.

Made me chuckle. But then I realized they were being serious.

This will be the first birthday in many years that I don't have a flood of people on Facebook wishing me happy birthday; mostly people who once a year take three seconds out of their lives to type something on my wall, and then never speak to me again until next year. Should I act grateful? Social norms dictate that I should be grateful, but the truth is I'm annoyed more than anything.

I would be lying if I said I hadn't started to miss Facebook; there is some comfort there. But I remain absolute in my convictions that Facebook has not helped my social life one bit.

Hope you don't take this too personally, dear reader.

Day 1 without Facebook

It feels like a huge weight's been lifted off my shoulders
That's what I was hoping for, but I didn't expect it to happen so soon after deleting Facebook off my internetz.

I don't have to sign in to see if someone sent me a message.
I don't have to sign in to see if anyone posted on my wall.
I don't have to sign in to see if anyone invited me to an event I probably won't go to anyway.
I don't have to sign in to see what friend X ate for breakfast.
I don't have to sign in to "Like" a business page to get a coupon.
I don't have to sign in to see how hot girl Y is in picture Z.
I don't have to sign in to see what my friends did at a party.
I don't have to sign in to see random people wishing me "Happy Birthday!".
I don't have to sign in to see what friend X wrote on Y's picture.
I don't have to sign in to see what friend Y's boyfriend looks like.
I don't have to sign in to see pictures of memories that are more real than Facebook ever will be.

I'm finally free.

Exceptional

Inextrication

The drum lies in its dark red case, waiting for hands to strike it.
But no fingers ever touch it, for the master of the hands is afraid of it.

The guitar lies in its corner, gathering dust, waiting for fingers to pluck it.
But no hands ever pick it up.

The drum kit lies beside the door, waiting for sticks to hit it.
But no sticks ever hit it, for the sticks are nowhere to be found.

The keyboard lies on the bar, waiting for a virtuoso to play it.
But no virtuoso wants to touch it.

The bass lies between the bookcase and the wardrobe, waiting for a prodigy to finger it.
But no prodigy ever fingers it, for he is too far gone to remember it.

The mic lies in a dungeon, awaiting its owner.
But the owner rarely uses it.

The computer stirs, the blue and red lights turn on, and as it lets out its first dusty breath, I await my saviours.

I hope I can get it

Position Title: Student Blogger

Description 

“Either write something worth reading, or do something worth writing” quoth Benjamin Franklin.
If you love food, this is your opportunity to do both.
UeaT is the student-focused face of Food Services at the University of Toronto. We oversee food locations across the St. George campus and coordinate food-related events that get the university community thinking and talking about the food they eat.
Essential to our success is the contribution of our students – and that’s where you fit in. We need you to help deepen the conversation surrounding food on campus while promoting UeaT events, programs and initiatives.
The Student Bloggers will primarily be responsible for writing articles for the UeaT blog, developing content for a wide range of print and digital media projects, and using social media to get the conversation going.
Bloggers will also be expected to participate in events such as Field to Fork, Food Truck Fridays, Nutrition Week and March Madness, and to perform other duties to support the Food Services team as required.

Qualifications

• Current university student, enrolled in FT or PT studies for the 2013/2014 academic year

• No previous professional experience is required, but your cover letter should demonstrate that you have the writing and storytelling skills required to excel in this position.

• Knowledge of food (preparation, consumption, production, distribution, etc.) and/or issues of food security, nutrition and sustainability is an asset.

• Experience with WordPress (or other Content Management Systems) is an asset.

• Previous experience writing print material for publication is an asset.

• Previous experience writing for a blog and/or other social media forum is an asset.

Skills

• Strong communication skills (written and verbal)

• Able to convey a story through the written word

• Able to conduct original research

• Able to work independently or as a dedicated member of a small team

• Highly creative

This job seems AWESOME! I love food and blogging. This is taken from this job posting. Wish me luck! :)

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Musings from a UofT student

• Is it fair that students with laptops have an advantage over those who don't (in classes that use clickers) because they can look up the clicker questions on the PowerPoint slides when the prof uploads them to Blackboard right before class starts?
• Why do so many students go to lectures to watch videos and browse Facebook on their laptops?
• Why (in certain classes) do you have to pay money to look at an exam that you wrote?
• Why are students allowed to enroll in a "fake" Program of Study on ROSI to get into courses that are limited to students who are legitimately majoring or specializing in a given subject?
• Why does Robarts library close so early on Fridays?
• Why do the vast majority of food trucks/student cafeterias sell only junk food?
• Why am I not eligible for the 30% off tuition despite being only slightly older than people entering post-secondary right after high school?
• Why do I feel like a visible minority on the St. George campus?
• Why am I not allowed to pay for my full-time classes on a per-course basis during the academic year?
• Why do first-year students in lecture halls always sit at least two seats away from people they don't know?
• Why are textbooks so expensive?
• Why is important scholarly research paywalled to non-university students?
• Why are there intellectuals on campus who wander around and don't appear to be grounded in physical reality?

That's all I can really think of for now. I might decide to add some pictures to each bullet later on once I have all the pictures I need.

Have you got any musings to share?

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Chinatown Horses

A couple weeks ago, on a bright Sunday afternoon, I decided to take a stroll around Kensington and Chinatown, as I so often do during the weekend. Sometimes, I walk around and look for good deals on things I want or need. Sometimes, tourists say hi and ask for directions. Secretly however, I'm actually doing what a lot of hopeless romantics do when they're bored: they wander the avenues and hope that their soulmate falls into their lap.

To be honest, I really don't expect this to happen. This is because I live in the big city and things like that don't happen in the big city. People are too conditioned not to pay too much attention to strangers in the street, which is a darn shame because I really think we can all learn so much everyday if we talk to someone new. But still I cling on to this false hope that never gets me anywhere. I know I should  try other methods to meet someone I can date and yet my mind holds on to this romanticism like a mad fool.

But I have tried other methods. After a friend of mine (Em., I'm looking at you!) suggested I sign up on Plenty of Fish, I reluctantly created an account and filled in the extensive personality tests (which were surprisingly accurate) and started my search on there.

Supposedly, the matchmaking system of PoF is crafted by "people with PhDs". And there are very interesting and attractive girls on there that I've been matched with based on how I answered my "chemistry" tests. The main problem I'm having - and this is pretty major - is that out of a total six messages I've sent to someone, I have received zero replies.

And these aren't "hi, how are you" messages; PoF says to send a detailed message, so I do.
And some of these people have indicated, based on their review of my profile, that they "want to meet me". But I send them a message, and I get no replies. How rude.

I honestly don't think my messages are too outlandish. In fact, I feel like they're probably better crafted than many other guys' "hey babe, u look hot".

I just want to let out a great big SIGH. Human relationships shouldn't be this difficult to create and maintain.

Before I leave you with this desperate blog post that will no doubt mull around in your head, here's something I bought in Chinatown. The key thing to note is that both images are of the same object. Neat!

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Late early late late early late

It's too late. It's way too late. Why am I up.
I should not be up.
I need to be solar; not lunar right now. I can be lunar during the winter. But I need to be solar during the summer.

The blue lights draw me in like a firefly.

I don't know why; I simply can't seem to do it on my own.
And no matter how I try, I keep falling back into the same cycle again.

Okay, maybe not the exact same cycle. It's always different. This time, I'm busy writing to people; and they write back! I get attention!

The red lights put me out like a match.

It's funny how much easier it is to open up when you're staring at a screen. I really do think robots would make good shrinks. They don't even need to be sentient; they just need to be human reflections.

Let's just see what's going through my head right now.
Well, I'm already kind of disappointed in myself for not being able to have a cogent flow of ideas in this post. Everything feels disjuncted. Here I am, talking about a personal issue and then I start talking robotics.

It's almost 4 am. I wonder if that has something to do with it. Maybe it's hard to be coherent when your body and mind are completely backwards; that is, completely opposite to what mother nature intends.
If I really wanted to be making the most of my summer, I'd be getting up at sunrise and going for a walk in the ravine every day.

But I know that's not going to happen. I have no reason to get up and go to the ravine. Careful, Gabriel, don't get too ageist now. Well, what I was going to say before I stopped myself is that only old people who are retired get up that early and go for walks in the ravine. And I've spent too much time around old people in random hospitals all around the country; there's never anyone just my age in the early morning. They always get up late and drink their coffee and rush to work because that's what young-er people are expected to do.

All I ever wanted was another crazy girl who's been through the same shit I've been through to hang out with me once in a while; and then maybe once in a short while.

But you can't ever find these people because, just like me, they stay hidden inside and only reveal themselves in the most rare of occasions.

Someday.

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You Know What Grinds My Gears? (YKWGMG)

Oh yes. It's time to rant. But this time, it won't be a single rant... No, no, this time it will be a LIST of rants. Rants about things; small things, big things, random things, things I dislike, thinks that annoy me; even things that don't even seem like I could rant about. This list is related to my earlier list of things that irritate me that I first published in 2009. Here goes.

• Okay. Screw people who decide it's okay to walk down a busy sidewalk and light up a cigarette. It's bad enough that the smoke smells toxic. It's even worse that you're putting other peoples lives at risk. I see no difference between this and drunk driving except for the fact that one is legal and the other isn't. And even still, most of these smokers are breaking the law - you need two meters between a building entrance and a lit cigarette if you really wanna be picky about it. I don't care if you smoke; but do it away from my lungs.
• I have a hard time getting along with people who hate on medicine that one would not find in a hospital. Just because you haven't heard of another kind of medicine (read: naturopathic) or seen hundreds of studies about it doesn't mean it doesn't work.
• Car commercials. Enough said.
• People who think their music genres are better than everyone else's.
• Everyone on Plenty of Fish (yes, I have an account).
• People who still troll people online past the age of 22.
• Sardines in rancid oil.
• Big agro/Big pharma/Big telecom (in order of dislike).
• People who complain to an excess about politicians and don't vote.
• People who constantly brag about the amount of drugs they've done/the amount of sexual encounters they've had.
• People who have nothing to say when you ask them: "what's up?".
• People who say "I hate hipsters" for no reason other than to have something to say.
• People who say "I am not a hipster".
• Stores that don't include tax on their price list. This is the majority of stores in Canada and it really irritates me that we have yet to switch to a more European system. Same goes with tips.
• Immigrants who, for reasons under their control, choose not to learn the native (i.e. official) language of the country they emigrate to.
• I get annoyed when people call me a "frenchie". If you're from Turkey, would you enjoy being called a turkie? Or if you're from Chile, would you enjoy being called a chili?
• Hypocrites who refuse to admit they're hypocrites despite overwhelming evidence.
• Ads and marketing that targets young children to get them to buy junk (food).
• Consumerism. This one is a big rant in and of itself.
• The Tumblr blogging platform. This one is a big rant in and of itself.
• Societal norms that dictate how you should dress. Yes, they are important, but I really don't see why wearing two socks that don't match would ever cause any serious problems in our society.
• People who are addicted to coffee and yet judge (in a negative way) people who use recreational drugs.
• People who don't realise that it's easy to ignore trouble when you're living in your bubble. Let 'em spill their guts 'cause one day they're gonna slip on 'em. (Credit goes to Paramore, of course).
• People who don't listen to my drunk stories
• When I can't find duct tape. I have bought endless meters of duct tape over the years and I still have trouble finding any lying around. I don't use all of it, so I have no idea where it goes.
• Science for the sake of "SCIENCE!". Progress for the sake of progress.
• People who love bacon and have to tell everyone how much they love it. We get it. It's tasty. So are countless other meats.
• Americans who come to Toronto and don't mimic the politeness they encounter here and take it for granted. (This one's debatable: it's hard to tell sometimes who's a native Torontonian and who's just visiting. Also, not every Canadian/Torontonian is polite.)
• People who appear to spend most of their waking life on their smartphones, especially on the streets. While not being nearly as damaging (unless they're driving) as the people who smoke cigarettes on the sidewalk, I still get annoyed when people lose track of personal space because they're so focused on their iPhones and they just become oblivious to their surroundings.
• Raccoons who think they own the place. Right now, they're probably in the grapevine in the backyard knocking down grapes that yours truly will have to pick up later.
• Atheists who need to tell the world about how there's no god or gods.
• Religious nuts who need to tell the world... well, you get the picture.
• People who simply refuse to acknowledge the destruction that GMOs/The Green Revolution has caused in areas other than the First world.

Okay, that's it for now! Gotta get some rest before my first astronomy midterm tomorrow evening! I might add more to this list later.

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Just write

No, this time it's not a FW post.
I'm finally myself... again. Well, for the second time.
The Lyra post a few posts back was completely true. The tears -were- streaming down my face. And yes, I'm aware that it is almost 3 am, so clearly I'm not fully living my potential.

That is, unless I actually wake up early tomorrow, bright and early, and with a purpose. But the full purpose takes a long time to achieve, I think.

I should write down my random musings a lot more on here. I fell prey to something many writers may fall prey to sometime in their writing career: writing not from the heart, but writing for an audience.
There's a very important difference between the two. The latter gets you the marks; the former gets you [your] soul.

The writer's soul? What is that? I don't know. And I have a hard time calling myself a writer because it is, after all, mostly a hobby. At times it has been a passion, but most of the time, I do it out of boredom.
That doesn't mean that I don't feel passionate about what I write; I absolutely do. It's just that people tend to twist words into their understanding and so I prefer to call it a hobby.

Okay. Next topic. Love.
Today, I met far too many people who say they don't believe in love. I'm not out to challenge that belief; it is theirs, after all, and far too many people challenge other peoples' beliefs just to make themselves feel good. That's not moral.

Did I just bust out morality? I guess I did.
You know, I always had the biggest trouble distinguishing between morality and ethics. I still can't do it off the top of my head; it almost seems like they're the same word sometimes. But I know there's a technical difference, so I'll leave that to the true academics to deal with.

As promised, I'm going to end this post with some multimedia. Here's a picture of something I had to eat a few days ago. I forget what it is. I guess I'll know when I upload the photo.

Oh right, it's a curry.

Peace out, my lovely, if unfaithful, readers.

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Locked until it counts: FW

Unipolar. Bipolar. Tripolar. Take your pick.
Sad. Happy. Sad. Happy. Sad. Happy.
Oh no, I just keep on falling.
Here comes hope; misery's gone crawling.

No mistakes. All mistakes. Have you learned from your mistakes?
Lock me up; keep me away.
Rile me up; keep me safe.
Try to find her. She tries to find you.
Will you ever meet?
We've already met.
We're all around you.
I'm everywhere but near you it feels like.

Reborn. Dead. Reborn. Dead. Thoughts are here; thoughts are there! Oh, your thoughts are racing! Here, take this.
Go to school. Get a good job. What's wrong with that? You don't have to go to school. And you don't have to leave your other job.
Here comes the fickle part: Go on dating websites. Find a sweet girl.
No luck? Keep trying.

Is there no end to these words?
They spin around and dazzle in my head; they skip around and fragment all around me now instead.

I love talking to just about anyone now. Talking talking talking. Am I finally, really, human? Because I'm social? I want to talk.
But there's no one to talk to except to my empty wooden walls and this white page.
Well, I could talk to myself and the angels, but they understand me enough already. I don't want to explain everything; I want to communicate everything. Well, almost everything.

Uh oh, switched to first person. Eating fuzzy peaches, safe in my crypta.

I miss all of you; hurt by the cold. That's RHCP, basically.

Time to return to the haunting echoes. Sorry for the difficult read.

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The Leonine Horse

With such a sunny disposition, this personality rarely has shadows of doubt about anything. Idealistic and ambitious, passionate and true, the Leo Horse surges forward in an optimistic but sporadic fashion. He will be impulsive and given to grand gestures. He needs many emotional outlets to release his pent-up energies. A generous and sportive individual, the proud Leonine Horse is expressive and loves physical exercise. A happy-go-lucky innovative leader, he will have droves of friends and fans.


Source: Theodora Lau

Source

Coconut flour & banana pancakes

This is what I ate this morning. Easily scalable.


2 eggs
1 ripe banana
1 tbsp coconut flour
1 tbsp table cream
Pinch of cinnamon
Pinch of cardamom (optional)


1. Mix all ingredients together in a bowl.
2. Heat frying pan on high.
3. Mash bananas and beat the eggs with cream.
4. Spread mix on pan; cook for 3-4 minutes each side, or until golden brown.
5. Serve with maple syrup.

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Paramore

The early part of the show.

Ah, Paramore. Still my favourite band. Have you heard their latest album? It's self-titled and absolutely fantastic: the lyrics, the voice, the drumming, the guitar riffs. Going to their concert back in May was honestly the best concert experience of my life. And it motivated me to start my own band. I think you can guess the name.

It ended with confetti.

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A caterpillar's tale

I was sitting in Kensington park this afternoon, watching (but not quite staring) at the cute counter-culture girls with tattoos and hippie clothes. Little packs of people with musical instruments and various trinkets were strewn here and there, and the smell of weed wafted in and out through my nostrils.

While not getting high, I was getting more and more in tune with the atmosphere of the people there; clearly these people were regulars to the park and as conversations about their life flowed on and on endlessly around me, I felt connected.

I desperately wanted to join in on some of the fun, but having been rejected far too many times before, I decided I would not risk it and kept to myself, propped up against a tree while eating brazil nuts. But I was not alone.
All around me, the grass shimmered with late spring vitality and if I looked at the greenery just right, I could see individual lifeforms busying themselves with their animal tasks.

The ants were scurrying around, patrolling their territory. The birds were chirping, singing songs of life and liveliness. Dogs barked; cats roamed and I lay down and felt myself melt into the earth.

And then, a most beautiful creature appeared on my arm. A fuzzy little caterpillar was quietly undulating, rising and falling up and down my arm hair. He seemed happy when I looked at him straight in the eyes, as he raised his torso up to greet me.
And I talked to him.

I told him of the loneliness that I felt, even while on campus. I told him how hard I've worked to be the person I've always wanted to be. I told him that I felt happy that girls were finally looking at me when I walked down the street. Smiling, now, seemed so easy. And I got smiles back. And yet,  as I recounted to the caterpillar, I rarely found the occasion to have long, deep conversations with people.

He understood. He listened, but offered no advice. After all, he had his own problems to deal with.

Soon, he would become a butterfly. His metamorphosis was imminent; and once he would be a butterfly, then he could finally fly around and see the world from a different perspective.

And so I asked myself; maybe if I were to undergo some sort of metamorphosis; some sort of change, then maybe I could change the world around me so that I could fit in better.

And as I sit in front of a computer at the biggest library in Toronto, I wonder if my walk home will bring me the reflection I so desperately need to keep on metamorphosing.

And maybe, just maybe, the girl of my dreams will run into me at a corner, and my loneliness will be cured.

Until then, I write.

Pub time

Apparently, fitting in is important.
So anyone wanna go the pub tonight?

I pick the pub though.
And it's gonna have some gluten-free fare.
It better.

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In my world: a musical note

Whew. A lot of my previous posts have been somewhat dark. The good news is that I'm not really a dark person. Not anymore, anyway.

So to lighten things up a bit, I figure I'd share some of my rules. Rule isn't really a good word. Hmm, something like... code? Maybe. A code, yeah.

Anyway, here's one of my music codes. It's a personal code, of course, so don't think that I'm trying to say that everyone should adhere to it; that would be lunacy. Definitely not sunny today.

#1
Only in very rare exceptions should lyrics in pop music ever reference self-grooming.

Want some examples? I've got a couple.

Firstly. Avril Lavigne. Oh yeah, she's pretty great. I'm talking pre-Girlfriend era, of course. Anything after Under My Skin is pretty trash in my books.

So My World is probably my favourite song sung by her. It never fails to make me feel happy: most of the lyrics are quite smart and the actual guitar chords (a lot of majors, I believe) never fail to up my mood.

Ah, but there's a caveat. Check out this bad boy of a lyric:

I never spend less than an hour,Washin' my hair in the shower,It always takes 5 hours to make it straight,So I'll braid it in a zillion braids,Though it may take all friggen day,There's nothin' else better to do anyway.

Oh come on. Luckily, the lyrics return back to the real daydream she sings about... whatever that means.

The rest of the song is fantastic. The whole song is fantastic. And this part doesn't really bother me; I mean, I still sing along to it. It just irks me to have such a mundane section of a song take up six whole lines.

Alright. I'm feeling pretty tired. I should be in bed.

But I need to get just one more lyric off my chest. I'm being punny; you'll see.

I'm so obsessed, my heart is bound to beat right out of my untrimmed chest.

Here's some mad poetry I wrote that explains how I feel about your lyrical genius, Espionage (production team).
If you don't know the song, try and guess.
Spoiler to the right: Hey, Soul Sister - Train

Trimmed or untrimmed, I honestly don't care/
But it seems like you just didn't know what to wear/
Honestly, I think that's pretty gross/
And your boring lyrics have a funny way of making me feel morose

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The allegory of the ship

If you would prefer to listen to this short story as read by me, click here.
Hollowed out and filled up with hate/all we want is you to give us a break!

You were cruising on a mighty fine ship, headed straight for the open sea. You were master and captain and had all you needed to succeed. The first storm breezed by like nothing; after all, you were prepared. You had retouched the sails, polished the deck, whittled the bow to perfection. You had even met a mighty fine wench to guide you through the trip. And for the first time in a very long time, you felt free. For weeks at a time, you breathed the free air like a new man, excited for all the mystery and adventure that lay ahead.

But it was too good to be true. At the second sign of trouble, you were tempted. And you were hoping this wench would back you up, but she was gone somewhere else. You scared her away, and in your own moment of fear you reached out in the wrong direction.
Master and captain of your ship, but not master of your own afflictions, she took over again. Slowly, at first, to deceive you into thinking everything would be all right. So carefully, she crept into your life again, filled with promises of hope and glory.
At first, it seemed like all was well. You had, in your mind, conquered her already, this affliction a thing of the past. And there lay the real danger.

Blissfully, you ignored your own warning signs and plunged right in. Thinking someone else would fish you out if there really was trouble, you left your careful nature behind and played with the tiger's tail for a little too long. For days, you shut yourself up in your cabin, ignoring trouble in your bubble and living with the pleasures of instant gratification.

The question, then, is how you will get out of it now that you've realized your mistake? Oh, you have plenty of fantastical ideas to help you keep a steady course, but they're nothing if they're not in the real world.

Your ship is not sinking; no, it's merely drifting, waiting for its captain to take command once again and to sail on to less dangerous waters. You just wished you weren't so terribly alone on your journey. The wenches come and go, but what you really need is a mate. And in your head, you can only get one if you complete your journey.
But how are you to complete it if you're blind to all the magic that surrounds you?

Pressure

If you would prefer to listen to this short story as read by me, click here. 2024-07 edit: No longer available; I might have the .mp3 somewhere; I might re-record.

They sat side by side on the bed, discussing the everyday happenings of the world. She was pretty with her long auburn hair and glistening brown eyes and he could feel the connection intensifying. He was trying to remember her name. He remembered loving her name the first time he had heard it, but it had since completely slipped his mind.
As they talked, he felt liberated. He hadn't opened up to anyone about his real past in a long time, and there was something about trusting a complete stranger with his own darkest secrets that appealed to his thirst for discovery. But soon enough, she had started talking about her boyfriend and his heart sank. She didn't overdo it, but it was clear where the line lay. He was disappointed, but not frustrated or angry. In fact, he was almost expecting it and it was a bit of a relief to know instead of having to guess.

Still, his teal eyes had lost some of their sheen and he retreated into his shell once more. Perhaps this was a cue to the outside world, for as he was about to launch into the more private details of his life with her, a man with a mohawk approached. He was considerably older than the man sitting on the bed with the girl. He wandered over and sat to the left of the young man, who was now sandwiched between the girl and the mohawk man.

And the mohawk man wasted no time at all. As swift as an eel darting through a pond, he worked his words on her and started recounting to her his travel tales of South America. It worked like a charm. She was immediately drawn into his fantastical world of adventure and ancient Mayan mysteries. And while the young man was interested in the tales, having had dreams of traveling down south himself, he couldn't help but notice the jealousy growing within him.

He managed to suppress every ounce of envy that smouldered at his heart and he expertly put on a silent front as he pretended to be absorbed in the mohawk man's tales. Soon enough, mohawk man started showing the girl his vast collection of travel pictures, and as he explained in perfect detail where the pictures were taken, the younger man further retreated into his own world.
Seeing this pattern in himself, he decided he would do something about it and he slowly edged his index finger to the touch phone screen, which the auburn-haired girl was already touching. And as their fingers brushed against each other, he felt the heat of their touch electrifying his entire body.

But that connection lasted only a second as the mohawk man took back his phone and started talking about his business and money-making schemes. Truthfully, the younger man was quite bored, but he didn't dare leave the bed for fear of losing the girl.

But eventually, he had had enough of this misery and as he slipped off the bed, it was as if no one noticed he was ever there. And as the girl and the mohawk man continued to exchange tales, he wandered into the kitchen to fix himself a much-needed drink.

As the whisky cascaded slowly down his throat, the burning sensation shaking him from his envious torment, a light went on in his head. Her name was Katarina, and he had lost her forever.