A boulevard called horseshoe

So I biked today. It's not an uncommon thing to do in Toronto; but it is pretty uncommon for me to bike just for the sake of biking. Most of the time, I use my road bike to commute to and from school; sometimes to go to yoga studios, and other times to go to community centres to play badminton.

When you're biking and you don't have a set destination, the city opens up to you. You get to an intersection, and you have choices to make: "Do I turn right? Left? Keep going forward? Maybe I should do a U-Turn and find a street with fewer potholes". And the good thing about having to make these choices is that it makes the brain work; you're also not wasting gas whilst going for a joy ride.

So after my meeting at Accessibility Services (bless them!) @ UofT, I took it upon myself to head towards High Park to infuse myself with some nature. No, not literally. I mean, if I could shoot up some oak trees or some heron eggs, I probably... wouldn't. No, my intention was to bike in the sun all the way to High Park and de-stress after being caught up in the cycle of concrete that is the city Corporation of Toronto.

Instead of ending up in High Park, I took a twist at Dunda W. and biked along the West Toronto Railpath (which has been altered by the construction of a GO train service. Not a bad idea!). I got cut off at Ossington/Davenport by an impatient driver who thought it wise to dash behind the car in front of them, carelessly driving through the bike line to make a right. Totally illegal. Normally, I'm used to this, but it's about damn time I publicprivately say something about this. There have been far too many bikers injured by car drivers who think that their little shell of metal armour entitles them to break road laws.

I admit. I often dash past stop signs and I'm technically breaking the law as well. But I check who's behind me, who's coming in, and whether there are any children/idiot squirrels around. This makes me a good bicyclist.

The Tower of Angels (or yet another round of painful free writing)

-Why do I always write the best titles?
-Why do I always lose track of what I write?

The blue sunset exists. I've seen it. Not with my eyes, mind you; it's somewhere else out there. Lyra's world, I guess.

The more I look at my screen, the less creative I become. What's up with that? There's nothing free about this here. What part of my brain am I using?

I am really worried about the font I'm writing in now. It's too straight edge; not creative enough. And it doesn't matter anyway. Comma callus splice errors up the wazoo; IDGAF (that means I don't give a fuck, for you non-geeks).

I still want to meet Hayley Williams sometime. I mean, I guess I could purchase a VIP package, or go on a cruise with her or something (Parahoy, it's called).

But lately I've discovered a new band; no links, no pictures in this post.

I have so many pictures to post. I'm talking hundreds of thousands of... kilobytes worth of data pixels that captured a singular moment in time. This moment in time is merely a tense all muddled up in the future, past, and the present makes no sense at all.

The future makes so much sense. The past is just fact.

Angels. OH MY GOD I STAYED ON TOPIC!

My favourite angel these days is... oh my goddess I'm going to spell their name improperly. I could cheat and look up their name in a book that I have that's mauve and still in great shape and that I wish to study more (not by myself, mind you), here, have, some, commas, to breathe because I've been making you read for far too long now without really getting at anything particularly interesting.

MY favourite angel, these days... I... I can't pick anymore. I love them all too much. Love, love, love, why? That word is completely different than "amore", or, culturally... "amour".

Try it out. Try pronouncing "amour" (it's going to be difficult unless you can speak a romance language pretty well). Now try pronouncing the word "love". TOTALLY DIFFERENT WORDS! ... well, phonetically anyway.

Okay, I'll give it a try, Tzadfkiel. I think. No, I'm going to google you and see what the 2nd page has to say about you! IS that okay?

The hard ships swim softly through the snow

They're building a space elevator!

THOTH TECHNOLOGY / THE CANADIAN PRESS

Pretty neat.

Later day edit: I learned about this through Kenneth Oppel's Facebook page! He has a book series called Airbourne, and in one of the books (I can't remember which one; one of the later ones), he describes the building of a space elevator. I wish I could go into more detail; but you'd have to read the books to really get it.

Anyway, The Word on the Street is happening again this year! I've never been. But I am 95% convinced that I am going to go. It's just not an easy place to go to as an unpublished author. And I'm not going to advertise this blog because I would feel like a sell out.

Gabriel(le)

24 Aug edit: This is an atypical example of how a wannabe author thinks! =)

I could have put it better myself

www.xkcd.com

Gabriel(le)

Republished:
2019-08-3_

Living with Voices by Kevin Healey

No more citations needed. I'm taking a break from UofT for a while.

Gotta take care of Deathraven and Taxes.

Well, Deathraven's taken care of.

Number ###?

Speaks for itself LOL

Gabriel(le)

A regular, good effing day?!

How long has it truly been?! YEARS?! WTF.

I went to see my doc; then I went to North Toronto to get a badminton schedule; then I went to campus to get some sunshine and listen to music; then I went to go see my ethics prof and had a great conversation about so many things (such is philosophy). And then I came home and THERE WAS FOOD TO EAT ALL PREPARED.

And now I can do WHATEVER I want until bedtime in an hour because I e-mailed everyone I had to e-mail, I set up all the appointments I had to set up, and I don't need to freak out about the dentist tomorrow!

Goodnight.

:)

-Gabe

Feelin' alright on a Fursday Night

So I have 3 cats. They're actually all really nice felines, but only if you know them real well.

As a stranger, you'll never really get to see cat #1. It's 'cause he's black.

You might get to see cat #2. He's somewhat friendly; but he generally keeps his distance. Still, if you want to pet him, all you gotta do is scratch him gently under the chin. Careful though. More than 75 seconds of that, and you'll probably get bitten.

Cat #3 will come over and meow and meow and meow. And welcome you to my domain. He's super nice. Like, I can't think of a nicer cat. The typical fat orange nice cat, you know? I bet he'd do standup if he could.

Why am I talking about cats?

I was pretty much raised by them from the age of 7 onwards. Or whatever year Elvis Stojko won that gold medal.

Reowr.

-Gabe

Trust a peppermint teacup

You can do whatever you want. Well, you can try to do whatever you want. Sometimes you get stopped from doing what you want, and that's more than okay. And sometimes you get nothing at all like what you want. And that happens.

You always build trust. It is a procedure. It is a protocol that must be followed. You cannot blindly trust what you feel or think. Basic philosophy, I guess.

So, then, you test things. But you test things in a nice way. You don't test, then conclude, then test, and conclude, and test, and conclude, and conclude, and test. Basic science, I guess.

Some people say mean things. All people say mean things sometimes. No one is always nice. No one can possibly always be mean... can they? That can't be a reality that exists. It would make no sense.

I should end this weird post with a lame joke I took from a book (that someone spilled coffee on) that I don't want to read anymore because it's spoiled.

Things don't make much cents today.
But they'll make dollars someday.

-Gabriel

On the path again

Sooooo, I could write a long detailed post and for once, my fingers are about the same speed as my brain. So I could. I could write a lot.

But I'm sort of in a hurry to go outside and get some vitamin D. No, seriously, I'm super deficient, I'm sure. And although I feel -okay-, I know I will feel better in 15 minutes when my skin absorbs the sun rays and turns them into Vitamin D. Pretty incredible stuff.

-

I walked home from Yonge-Eg last night, partly through the Beltline, and I felt free. Maybe not as free as Halifax, but free from... you know, the darkness or whatever.
Funny I mention the darkness; it was pitch black at times, and the darker it got, the more real I became.

Anyway, no elaborate storytelling today.

But it'll come.

Soon.

-GW

A misty grey cloud boom

She writes on a golden brown table with the black machine in front of her. In her head, all around her are objects, things, concretes that cannot be seen through. Her hands move with male elegance lacking direction.

The lights around her are meaningless; she gets up to turn them off, but the Matrix turns them back on again anyway. She feels bored. He feels alone. Do they even exist?

Nonsensical questions that torment my mind and make me feel sad never end up sticking around for very long, but when they do, it is a hell without fire or ice.

So they take my spirit, feed her grey matter; kick her out, limping all the way home hoping a friend will come say hello. Instead, an appointment with dentists, optometrists, social workers. But where is the happiness?

The mood stabilization that occurs when the meds kick in drive away all the ecstasies and the dullness settles in.

Being a 24 year old is HARD. But ultimately, it'll get better.

Gabriel(le)

Ode to Teens and Preteens

This is not my original work. This was written by Pruderick B., a real cool guy who was in my grade 7 homeroom. I found this poem in my yearbook and I thought it was absolutely brilliant. Keep in mind this was written by a 12 year old.

Of course it's true

I want to be like the rest.

Buy saggy clothes and chains to look the best.

You don't know why you do it

Or maybe you do

Because I know that almost of you here do it, too.

Why not dress in suspenders like Steve Erkel did?

Why do people take away their personalities?

And conceal it with a lid?

We listen to music we don't even like

Just because the other people find it to be hype.

We're classified in groups by the things we wear

Japs, Ginos, Thugs and the Punks that shave their hair.

But, what if you're not in one? Where do you belong?

Is there something wrong with you, why can't you get along?

There's nothing wrong with you

you're being yourself

So let's be ourselves

And put our fake personality on a shelf

This may not be directed to you

But you know who you are

And people think this through.

Because I also need to think about this too.

I hope you know

This chain isn't really mine

It's not real

But at least it looks fine.

Some people think that all they need is a reputation

But I ask, "Is their brain under total domination?"

I say that because I think

Instead of a rep they really need to think.

"I hope I look good and that my hair isn't took dark...

I also hope that I will get extra marks"

All of us are trying to impress someone

I don't know who.

Try to be yourself

But I'm not going to tell you what to do

If I was, then I'd be the biggest hypocrite

Because being you, isn't as easy as I say it is

This isn't a lecture.

I don't want to bore you.

But guess what?

Most of what I said is true

And denying that fact is the worse you can do.

If this isn't true,

Then tell me why are you wearing what you are.

And think about it,

Will clothes really get you that far?

I'm closing with that statement

I'm going to finish now.

If what I said didn't get to your head

I hope it will, someday, somehow.

Pruderick Balmores 7F

Lyra diu tergum.

:) :( :) :( :D :D :D :D D: :'( :'( :'( :)

:) :O :)

Heart. Beat.

:)

Heart. Beat.

:/

Heart. Beat.

My heart is greater than the distance in between us.

(Yep, that's a Paramore lyric)

o_o"

-Kaleidoughscope

Waiting on the world to change

I was picking cherries in the tree in the backyard today and I was listening to the radio when "Waiting on the world to change" by John Mayer came on.

It instantly brought back memories from high school. The funny thing is I can't exactly pinpoint what memories; just a general vague feeling of having this tune playing in my life when I was 16 or so.

I don't think I really appreciated the song when it first came out. In my head, it was just another generic pop song, with a generic chord progression and a really memorable chorus. And John Mayer was just another pop star who won a grammy that year.

But being stuck in the tree and having to only focus on cherry picking and the music allowed me to really listen to the lyrics and I was really impressed. It really sums up the general apathy youth feel in the world today. And I found it neither condescending toward youth nor overly critical of the status quo. Just a "feel good" song.

Here's the Youtube video if you want to listen:

Waiting on the Canadian government to change, I'm probably gonna vote.

Kaleidoughscope

Speedin'

First half of summer semester 2015 done. It went by really quick; then again, that's the reason I choose to do summer courses. That, and I tend to do much better in summer courses than the other semesters.

So I'll finally have all my pre-requisites to get to the more detailed upper-year Anthropology courses. Although not all courses in the anthro department have Ant100 as their requirement, it's pretty much mandatory without saying it is.

There were a few hiccups in the early part of this class, though. For starters, I found that the organization of the course was poorly done. For the first tutorial, there were some articles to read and some questions to ponder while reading it. But, unbeknownst to me, the TA e-mailed actual questions that one had to answer to get full tutorial marks, outside the tutorial.

You're supposed to check your e-mail every day, so it's technically my fault for missing those questions when they were in my inbox before tutorial. But this is the only course in my UofT experience that:

a) Uses e-mail instead of blackboard to post tutorial content and
b) Has outside-of-tutorial work that counts toward your tutorial mark (i.e. participation grade based on outside work)

One guy spoke up about not having read his e-mail and thus missing the questions, and he made a huuuuge deal out of it with the TA. It was his second time missing the questions (the TA kept switching between blackboard and e-mail so it was actually really confusing).

Thing is, tutorials are worth 10% of your grade. At most, this guy was arguing for half a percent (he wanted a few hours after class to do the questions). I actually saw him walk out of the tutorial class after arguing for a bit, head down the stairs to get out the building but midway through CHANGED his mind and headed back to the TA to argue with her some more.

I could have argued as well, but it seemed petty and this is the TA marking my essays so I'd rather keep her on my good side. But I still felt a bit cheated because of the way the course was organized.

You know, this is the stuff that should probably go into the course reviews. I'll probably write it again to submit to them when they come around. I guess I wrote this so that when I look back at this when I'm older, I'll know what was going in May-June 2015.

Take care.

Another semester starting again

Wow, that year flew by fast. I had my last final exam at the end of April and while I still don't know the mark, I am satisfied with what I wrote.

So now I'm taking summer ANT100Y. Again. I took Intro to Anthro my very first year, but ultimately dropped it after a whopping 8+ page essay was due. Yeah, I didn't get ahead on that.

Funnily, I have the same prof I did for the first quarter of the year (there were four profs, two for the summer session) and he's actually a really good prof. A primatologist with experience in the jungle and with many funny tales to tell. And sad ones.

Man, he got pessimistic over two years. I mean yeah, humans are kinda destroying the planet and ultimately ourselves, but we can still change things around, right? Probably not. This time around, he mentioned the rampant antibiotic use as a very real problem. Essentially, super-bacteria are adapting much faster than we can keep up. So that's a bummer.

So I actually have all my course notes from that year, so that's a plus. And when I took the test, I got an A, so that's also great. Looking forward to getting this big fat first year credit out of the way.

Other than that, life continues as normal.

It's only the real world

It's 2 am after a Saturday night spend celebrating my buddy E's birthday. I am tired, exhausted, ever-so-slightly-drunk and pretty happy.

I spent most of the day inside, and did some yard work later in the afternoon out front and eventually found my way to E's house at around 9. Guests had spent their afternoon playing ultimate frisbee; a fact that I was aware of and yet I chose not to go play because I was embarrassed about being the stockiest guy there. I can't run for shit right now I'm so out of shape.

Unfortunately, I missed out on the BBQ but I got to drink for a couple hours before we headed downtown to a bar in Kensington call Supermarket. There were quite a few people and the dance floor was packed, but that didn't stop me from dancing. You know, I don't really care how I look when I dance. I mean, I make a bit of an effort to look cool but ultimately it doesn't matter. White boiz are made fun of for being terrible at dancing (the stereotype is probably true) but I still think attempting to dance is better than standing awkwardly on the dance floor hoping a lady will be interested in something other than your non-existent dance moves.

So I danced, and it was nice. And eventually we sat at the table till the night wrapped up and Ev was nice enough to me and E a ride home, which rocked because taking the TTC home at 2 am is a pain in the ass.

So I finally spent a Saturday night somewhere exciting instead of at home on my computer again, like every other night for weeks and weeks now. It's not healthy to stay isolated and never meet anyone new like I've been doing for a while now. I mean, I didn't really get to know anyone, but at least there was some chatter. I guess alcohol helps. I had some apple cider and some bourbon. Probably gross, but oh well.

Open your eyes
Like I opened mine
It's only the real world.

I need to go to bed it's late.

B+

Broken barriers bounded by the bomb beat
Buildings are broken, basically I'm bombarding
Casually create catastrophes, casualties
Canceling cats got their canopies collapsing
Detonate a dime of dank daily doing dough
Demonstrations done dada on the down low.

So that's where I'm at... uh... I was supposed to learn a new letter each day but I got really lazy. Okay. I will learn E and F tomorrow.

Life is going alright! Finals in two weeks, other than that I'm freeeee.

Alphabet project

Since I lack content but I want to keep writing I thought up of an idea of something I can do while I was listening to Daniel Radcliffe rap Alphabet Aerobics.

So the idea is I want to be able to do what Radcliffe did there in a month.

In a month's time, I want to be able to recite Alphabet Aerobics from A to Z. So to do this, every day (or almost every day, depending), I will learn a new letter in the song. And every day, I will repeat all the previous days until I have them memorized.

So ready? B...b...b..b..begin!

Artificial amateurs aren't at all amazing
Analytically, I assault animate things

I'm not dead

I feel really sad. It's been months and months since I've published anything. It's really depressing looking back at 2014 and seeing so few blog posts compared to all my other years, even my hell year in 2010. So this is a small effort to keep the flame alive.

Blah blah blah I could start writing about what I've been up to but it's really boring. Honestly, not that much. Yes, I am still in school and while I'm not taking a heavy course load, I am trudging along.

I talked to my neighbour today for the first time in a while. He's been carting stuff back in forth between the houses so I asked him what he was up to. Turns out he redid the floor in the basement of his house and replaced the ugly 35+ year old ceramic tiles with hardwood flooring. So now he's just moving junk out of the house into a big dump bin on his front yard.

Spring has arrived!

The winter really wasn't that bad at all.

Take care. I might post more. No promises. Thanks for reading.

I'm sick of writing my signature every damn time.

Signed,

Gabriel

Hanging on

Hey Lyra, I guess I'm hanging on.
It's been difficult, the past few weeks.

Yes, it has been a trying few weeks. I feel like the meds have been cutting me off from you; or vice-versa, depending on how you look at it.
Yeah. But your soul is bright; it's just your brain and your body that don't tolerate the meds. I'm still here; protecting you; a golden defender.

See I miss having our conversations. Now it feels forced.

I pace a lot. I can't sit still for very long; or I lie down and close my eyes a lot to pass the time because I'm so fatigued. Blah blah blah.

Where is my creativity?
It's right here; I'm creating by writing... but it all feels so uninspired. Aren't I just whining that I'm on meds? Who cares.

I care. Your friends do too. And you know that. Do things that you enjoy more and you'll be okay. There's nothing wrong with spending some time on the computer blogging when you can.

Yeah, I feel better already. I just wish the apathy and fatigue would go away and that I wasn't so afraid all the time.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Emotional and lost

I am very emotional right now.
Today is a crying day.
My mind speeds out of control of my body.
Lyra; archangels; thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I cry my heart out to the world
The world is rich; the world is cold
How I feel and how I think mesh together in an endless insanity
But the tears feel real; so I cry a lot.

A shoulder to cry on
Some eyes to lean on
Some reality to counter the endless fakeness
The shroud comes and goes;
like the rain outside today
that perpetually
comes
and goes

Lyra; Lira; Lee-rah; Lye-rah.
English to français
Where is the continuity?

I feel lonely in my little cave
I feel very lonely at the bottom of the blackest hole
I'm an emo kid; conforming as can be
You'd be conforming too if you felt just like me

I wish I could call upon a friend in my time of despair
And in my time of despair, a friend is all I need
To accept me for who I am
and what I've become

Overwhelmed by the cold
Taken aback by the hot
I don't know how to get through this
And I need someone like you.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

A grateful day

I had a better-than-okay day today, Lyra!
=)

It started out a little rough; some anxiety in the morning, but no hardcore panic attacks like previous days. While I was mulling around looking for things to do, I found out that one of my favourite yoga teachers was teaching a class in the afternoon so I decided to head downtown to go to it. I'm so glad I did! I felt great for the rest of the day.
The courage you had to get through previous days and to keep your chin up led to you having a good day. True?

I guess so. I slept poorly though, so this morning it kinda felt like today was just going to be a continuation of yesterday but it was totally different.
In what way?

Well, for starters, I learned about a panic-attack severity reduction technique called alternate nostril breathing. And I practiced a bit of that and it definitely calmed me down when I did it, so I'm thinking of practicing it more.
I also found ways to channel my anxiety into creativity. So I did some photography and I played my djembe today!
Show the world the beauty you've captured. As your muse, I ask that you not hide your creativity and instead let if flourish by sharing your capacity to create with others.

I tried to keep everything natural and local; these are plants from my frontyard and backyard. And there's a pile of rocks and some sticks too, if you're into that.

©GGH 2014

©GGH 2014

©GGH 2014

©GGH 2014

©GGH 2014

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Lyra's Continuum

Where do you reside, Lyra?
I am your soul.

This is getting real deep, real fast.
Do you mind that?

To be honest, the white page is enticing. It leads me to want to fill it with my words. It's just that all this is pretty personal. But it's real.
So you mind a little bit...?

Yeah, just a little. Not enough to stop me from pouring myself out to this pensieve.
That's good. Stay open about how you feel and what you're thinking from time to time.

It feels strange to have a dialogue with your soul. I mean, have you ever had a dialogue with your soul?
You're splitting the atom, honey. We're intertwined. Think of it that way.

It sure feels good to talk about this complexity of mine; this state of co-dependence. Of symbiosis.
It's good that you're honest with yourself.

Still, I feel alone.
Yes, we know. *Lyra groans*

Okay, I'm working on not being so alone. On talking to friends and people that have made positive impacts on my life.
It's difficult for you it seems.

Yeah. I like to pretend I'm independent but as a human being, I cannot be. We are social animals.
Totally. But you find your environment to be conducive to solitude, methinks.

Yup.
Don't worry! Like so many others have told you, you're on a journey. Hate to (re)break it to ya, but life is a journey, not a destination.

Peer support groups actually help.
That's good.

I look forward to being around other people more.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Lyra's Humanity

I'm going through a rough patch.
I have felt very anxious all day; very jittery; I just have to move.
The side effects from the psychiatric medications are scaring me.
The shortness of breath makes me feel like I'm not breathing; and my anxiety is compounded by this lack of breathing.

Remember yesterday. Deep breaths.
I'm so happy that I can connect with you, Lyra. I know we're the same person and yet you're different than me.
I am here to help; always. Tap into my energy more, darling.

I withdraw into my own world because I've opened up to the wrong people before. By the wrong people, I mean the psychiatrists, the nurses, the whole fucking shebang at CAMH. I told them true things and the only thing they could do was give me another fucking label: schizo-affective disorder. A mood stabilizer and an anti-psychotic and #YOLO I'm on my way home! HA.

I have a rage against the mental health system that will be tempered by activism.

Good. Channel positive vibes. Don't victimize yourself unnecessarily.

I needed help. And the best they could do was prescribe me a medication and then offer me services like rec therapy (which was a positive experience) and manicures (something I still haven't tried).

And now you struggle. I understand what you're feeling. The meds are causing problems and they are hurting you. But one thing the meds cannot do is take away your hope and recovery. You have me, and you have good friends. Open up to them more.

*Gabriel feels tears of happysadness welling up*
Screw the apathy. Loneliness is the root cause of my problems.

Lyra, I feel numb and anxious. A horrible discomfort in my stomach; the punches of millions of little psyche-actresses trying to tear me down.

The ocean like the stars; la lumière illumine les ténèbres en toi. L'amour des astres. Rafaelle, aide moi.

I will get better. I am better after writing.

Paintings in Strathroy; Sep 2013

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Some words about angels

Okay. I want to take a deep breath.
I took a *somewhat* deep breath.
I'm going to try again.
In and out.

LYRA!
Shhhhh it's okay; it's okay. You're not perfect.

If I could, I would give you one of my rare hugs. It seems they're getting less and less rare by the day, though.
That's a good thing.

Are you an angel?
No, but you might be.

How...?
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

The meds hurt me.
...? They've... Oh. The anti-psychotics; yeah. Don't worry; you're stronger than you think.

I miss you.
And I love you.

Rafaelle? Raphael? Rafael...

Photoshop cred: Unknown. However, this was created for me when I was a young teenager. Oh yeah, and the lens flare is my doing; naturally.

-

So I believe in angels. I am not an atheist. I am not an atheist. I am a theist. I am not atheist.
I am what I am no matter what is said about me.

There is no love in hatred.
Ergo, I do my best not to hate.
Well, I still really dislike mosquitoes and bad bread.

The irony of the matter is that I don't eat bread anymore and here I am writing under this dough-guise.

Relax. Isn't this writing therapeutic?
It really is. I don't even need an audience. Yet I still publish... why?
You have a desire for recognition. And you've got it!

=)

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope