It’s there, just beneath consciousness

causing eyes to flicker behind closed lids.

Dreaming of desires, have become like nightmares,

serving reminders at night.

Can hardly sleep, as baby waterfalls

are birthed on un-caressed slopes,

and asking as they fall of the dreamer

who dreamed great dreams

but did not wake.


The New Plan

Leave the past behind for starters. Yesterday was yesterday. I made some mistakes and it was shitty. I’m tired of everything being shitty.  It’s time to try again and make the best efforts to turn things around and actually feel as if I am living with a purpose.

There are several things that will need to happen… no doubt my pride will stop me from revealing them all here and now… but in time everything will fall into place as it should.

So writing is off for awhile. At least a year, maybe more. It all depends on how long this trades course will take. That’s right, I caved, I gave into the trades & labor, something I promised myself I’d never do. My dad always was pushing me to do it, and every time he’d mention it… it would irk me – painfully.

I always believed I knew what I was doing – at least after I found faith. I believed with all my heart that I would succeed. I believed, dared to believe, my path was set, God given, divine…. and perhaps it was. Writing is what I am meant to do. I do not have this talent, this urging to write for no reason.

Detour. Add a few more years. Add a few more years to what was already going to be at least four years, given I worked hard and made it through the first time around. Never mind the fact, what if I had to take time off? It could take much longer than four years. I was naive to think I’d just plow through it. Perhaps even more naive that I thought I’d do it without God.

Spitting it out, If I intend to get a degree in writing at some point, it may be allot more than four years. I figure add two for this trade program, plus the four for writing – that’s at least 6 years – never mind the fact that I may not be able to complete each year consecutively.


Breaking it down it all =’s allot of time and money… and effort.

Better than sitting around doing nothing. I have a vision again, something to work towards. I  intend to take a program geared towards aboriginals. It get’s them started on an apprenticeship in one of 5 trades. I am looking into carpentry. They will pay for everything. So why not.  Then I’ll have my “back up plan, my plan B” as my dad say’s, eventually ill be making good money at that, and in the meantime maybe take some writing courses, or when ever I have the time to0.

so that’s the general plan, in the meantime, find a job and get by. Hopefully everything will work out. Hopefully… faith is the substance of things hoped for.

System Re-store

I just got of the phone with my father,  he’s been wondering how I am doing. He’s been riding my ass the last couple days, telling me to get on a job, get on top of some issues ect…

He started off again about my schooling, asking questions I didn’t want to answer, questions I didn’t have answers for. He asked my why I wasn’t going back to school in the fall, why I could not just take another loan and get back to it. He knows I don’t want to give up on school, as most do, I am not done yet.

Though my dad has never been happy with the fact that I took Professional writing. He’s been pushing me to do something in the trades for several years now, and all along throgh out last year, he was bothering me to get a back up plan.

Not a bad Idea except I feel moved to write, its what makes sense to me, what makes sense to go to school for. Its how I feel my life is meant to be. Either way, one day Ill be finishing that professional writing course and that will be that.

None the less though, his questioning stirred in me an uncomfortableness. I don’t know much of anything right now. I feel pretty helpless. I have no Idea where schooling really stands, and am quite afraid to find out. Furthermore, I could have suceeded at writing if I just did the damn work! If only I NEVER got involved with Laurie, should have stayed sober and stayed on the right track. I should have stayed in church, praying in faith as I was, seemed everything was working out. Then I let it all slip.

Right now I have very little motivation to do anything. I have let my failures and incompetance suck the remaining life out of me. I am a dammed fool.

Let me recheck my idiot list. One, I enrolled in school and slacked off even though I was totally capable of the work I had to do. I essentially slacked off and failed at what was a God given goal. During this time, I decide to date a girl I never really liked, all the while the girl I really truly liked,  for years prior, was sitting in church with no idea.  Check two : So I finally tell said girl how I feel for her, but in my inpatient’s end up back with Laurie. Long story short, it created a shit load of drama at school, thus all that shit on top of poor marks made me avoid school for the last few weeks, hence why I never showed up to the exams – and failed.

I gave up on my dreams. TWO OF THEM. Right there. Two huge pieces of what I was hoping for, crumbled before me by my own damn hands. I was weak. Pathetically weak.

I was low, so low after all that. Miserable and I guess I still am. Perhaps even more so, worse now. Because I’ve become okay with it. Just figuring its all going to work out somehow someday, but for right now, just don’t think about it, it hurts to much, just sweep it under the rug and hope it all goes away. Maybe one day there will come a morning with a nice man handing out dreams again.

How do I explain to my dad that I failed my dream? I have not even done that yet! I lied to him and to my mom! I sugar coated everything. Even now they don’t know the full truth. How do I explain I had the means to succeed at my dream and I didn’t because of foolishness? How do I tell him I learned my lesson and would like a second chance? A second chance to be a writer! Ill tell my dad that I want a second chance at something he doesn’t want me doing?  Tell everyone that Ill try again at something I so obviously failed at, leaving them wondering if I am meant to be a writer, leaving them asking me if its what I am meant to do… and once, I was sure, positive beyond a doubt… and now… I wonder and fill with doubt.

How will I ever get a second chance? Even if I do will I make money at it? Why does everything have to be about money? Having something to show for your time! We have to have proof we worked hard. I do not have that. I have proof I tried really hard… but then got lazy.

I feel so small right now. With the amount of debt I have I feel overwhelmed. EVERYTHING IN LIFE GEARS YOU TOWARDS MONEY! This pressure has me thinking I just need to work, get some job, any job, save some cash up somehow and get a little ahead, then maybe look at going back to school. That was the general idea. Until I have a steady income, there is not much point in thinking about much else, or so the money has me convinced.

I need a new vision, I need it pieces by piece. I need to see the first step clearly, and have a rough sketch of what the end should be like. Maybe then I’d feel better. Right now I have nothing. Not even a vision. I need something to work towards.

I know I want to be a writer, somehow I have to be a writer. I need money to get there, I need money right now to live. I need money. I need to look after my son, I need to be there for him, I must be a father. I need to give enough of a shit to try. Yes I failed. I failed horribly, but I must not let that make me give up.

I need new influences. I don’t know if I want them to even be Christian anymore. I just need to be around new people. I am tired of being stoned all the time, tired of partying. Tired of lying to everyone like I give a shit. Ill tell you the truth. I don’t fucking care. I don’t care right now if you want to be my friend or not. I am tired of everyone. They are all there in place, as resources, convenient, for a dark purpose. Once that purpose is filled they are useless. I shouldn’t write stuff like that eh? But yet its just the truth of this moment, of who I am right now.

And what of love? A thing to even consider in such a frame of mind? Do I just think of the last cute girl I had a thing with and run after her? Do I hold off for some Christian in some church somewhere out there? Do I simply keep my eyes open and mingle aimless about as I have done in the past? Or do I go out there and search for it? Do I look? Do I dare make something happen? Guess that is irrelevant. Funny how the things we really need, really want, become overshadowed with the demands that are essential to day to day life. Bread and water. How can I get a date if I don’t have bread and water to even eat? heh heh hah hah. It kills me.

I’ve been so depressed for so long now, and if I do not do something soon it will only get worse. Thankfully, I had a feeling… and sure enough, something had to give. I knew sooner or later there would be a leg up. (Call it the last of my faith being use up.) Turns out my dad paid off more than 800 dollars towards my mortgage and also will be sending me 200 dollars to get back on my feet. Ill have to get a bus pass and some food. Also make a note – ink – for printer.  Lets hope I don’t turn into a fiend and misuse it.

Hm,  my mind seems to be running a little more clearly.

System successfully re-stored.

Prepare to restart.

Melt Down

Its becoming more and more apparent that  life is broken. I look around at my place, and everywhere there is debris, garbage, broken things from the other day. My wall is broken, hole in it where I nearly put the monitor through it the other day. The keyboard is broken, I smashed that in when the internet wasn’t working. Beer cans all over the floor, some still with beer in them. They are there  because I dropped them there, carelessly, maybe purposefully. Like when i through the T.v remote at the bottle of water, knocking it down and ricocheting the remote into the wall, where upon which point, it became pieces.

I knocked my ashtray over, never picked it up. Not like it matters, no one ever takes their shoes off when they come over  – hell just crawl in the window, make yourself  comfortable.

Now I want to make sure that the picture I am painting, is not one for any reader to look at, because frankly, I am painting for no one but myself. I am throwing it up on the wall for me to look at at,  examine and gauge. Where as more often than not, the majority reading this, and a specific few, could go to far, as to judge me for this and make some inference about my state of mind. Perhaps suggesting that it is unstable and from there cause more pieces of my life to come undone.

In my defense, this is my therapy, this is what I do to feel better, I write it down. I self examine, this is my self medication, my escape from it, my way of seeing whats going on. For anyone person to read this,  such as my son’s mother, all anyone would ever need to understand is that this is contained within me. Meaning when its necessary, when I want to or have to, responsibility will take over and I can  manage to live in a socially acceptable manner.

In the meantime it’s all an experiment of what really matters and what does not. For what reasons do we do the things we do? Why do those reasons matter? Should they matter? What if they didn’t matter?

Does it matter  in the rage that over took me yesterday – that I totally  destroyed my bible?  Tore chunk from chunk, page from page. I had a lot of memories with that bible, allot of good ones. Allot of people signed it, said nice things in it, I had my sons first picture in there, along with an inscription on the day he was born. Torn up now. Gone.

Perhaps it’s the artful display of carefully chosen, coherent words, displaying my logic –  compared with the short sighted blinding rage that is my opposite personality – the comparison of these two halves of me  – something that has to be examined.

I suppose I am trying to find reason and purpose in everything, and for that matter, a reason or a purpose for this very write, for if I did not have one, then what would I accomplish? Except  selling myself out as a raving madman, who is angry and intoxicated all the time. That’s not at all the image I wish to associate myself with, nor am I trying to convince people of that. That would be very damaging to me, to my life. I do not wish to be any more damaging than life, circumstance, and I – have already been to myself/my life.

Perhaps there is something still – there -in, that it’s attention based. Perhaps it’s the therapeutic release that drives me to do it, or simply the fact that’s what writers do – they observe & express – they write, as if in their  nature to do so, and not just in examination of the world, but especially in examination of the self.

That being said, would it be fair to judge or punish me for expressing myself?

To the point of this write now, I just ceased to care yesterday.

I want to care, I want to try. I need a second chance, I am simply waiting for it. I just need some direction, waiting to catch a break. Maybe then things will click into place again. Or… we simply shall totally destroy everything and re-create from the ashes… what ever I wish.

In Limbo

It’s been a while sice I’ve really written anything. It’s been awhile since I’ve really cared too – cared to bare anything about me or my life. I’ve felt a nee to be closed off, hidden – at least from the extreme that I am normally used to putting myself out there. For that matter, when ever I find myself socializing, I’ve go into a pre programmed auto pilot frame of mind.

Needless to say I am uncomfortable with my current situation. It is not pleasant, having come face to face with some things I was hoping I’d never have to face.

But it’s all okay. Ill start over. Ill create new visions, dream new possibilties. Ill recreate and go forward, into what I know I am supposed to – and next time around I wont miss out on the chances I know I should take.

Ill do better on my projected goals, succeeding in them, or hell what am i saying? I should say I’ll try to do better, I want to do better. If i ever get another chance, Ill do better.

But as of now, as for as far as my friends go, I have to do something. Its not enough anymore to not see deep enough into someones heart, and let them live in pain. I often can read people quite well, see deep into them, see them hurting… and i do nothing. I figure, they will get over it, or is it my place to do anything? Do i dare reach out and befriend, or attempt something out of the ordinary?  No, I figure they will be okay, they will get better… then one day you hear they’er dead.

and i cant but help wonder what if.

and everyone says to never worry about such things, that its not within my controll, and yes I know that. I get that, but still its not to say that I could not have tried, tried to influence, and if so, then there are an infinite possibilties of the way things could have played out. If maybe one more person helped out, one more person said “i care man” or “i love you” and really meant it, maybe those people would still be alive.

I’ve been in limbo, jobless for awhile now. Coming up two months. I worked a day, with this one company, they let me go due to the fact that I did not have my own car. What a way to get my hopes up and then fire me after a day. I am being pretty stubborn too, I don’t want to really go back to tim hortons, or wash dishes.

Also have not seen my son for about three weeks, nor been to boxing for three weeks. Have not been able to afford to get there. At least not till today, but seems Jeremiah has plans already. Ill see him soon, come next week, and maybe once I get some decent shoes, I’ll be able to get back to boxing, as I totally destroyed the runners I had.

I need a decent job, and I need to get out there and make some new friends. I’m pretty tired of my social scene. No offense to my friends, I am just looking for something… or someone. From there, I want to get some debt paid off, look at going back to school in a year, retaking professional writing – and passing this time. I need to be financially stable first. I figure I need to learn to budget, I lack in this skill significantly, and if I have a decent job it should work its self out. Give that I stick to it.

In any event, I’m about done here – boredom looms.

Good day.