Category: Uncategorized

I suppose I’ve been pretty beat the last few weaks. Beat down emotionally. Depression is an emotional disorder, right? And I guess disorder is lack of order and that definitely is characteristic of my last few weeks.

I got accepted to Langara. I have to figure out what I’m taking. But this subject bores me and I don’t want to talk about it.

My thoughts meander to different subjects during the day but lately they just seem to keep coming back to a central vortex surrounding a disposition of doom and fear.

I guess what I’m finding is helping to remove some of these feelings of doom and stave off the inevitable self-loathing is to be of service to others. To put myself out there for those around me. The most obvious way for me, the way in which i feel i have the most to offer is to help those who are/were as fucked as i was. i’m talking about addicts. people hopelessly addicted to crack, smack, meth, coke and good ol’ booze. I guess I have something to offer them now. Atleast I feel like I do. Most days I don’t even think about it but when i do, every now and then, I’m pretty blown away. It’s like, I used to be positive without any doubt in my mind that i was terminally fucked. That I had tried getting off drugs so many times and I would always come back. I could not conceive of myself being able to live a month without resorting to them to escape. Just to fucking escape it all. And fuck, I’ll tell you. I;m feeling pain right now. I’ve been feeling pain all week that I haven’t felt since I broke up with her the first time. second time. When i went away to Sasquatch and the distance felt like nothing between us cause everywhere I looked all i saw was her, and all i could here was my own head thinking about her. I don’t want to be sentimental about it. Sentimentality is emotional masturbation. It’s bullshit and I have no place for it anymore.

Yesterday, right after I said my final goodbye to the lady, I received a call from a friend who needed my help. my help. Can you imagine that? that people would call me when they need help? what a laugh. So I helped her out. I was there for her as best as I could. took her to a meeting. tried to tell her what i did in her situation to get out. GET OUT. Then today again… Work was tough to get through and afterwords I really was in a pit of self-pity when I got a call again from another friend. I was sitting in the queue for the 4-1 lane knock down for the southbound Lion’s Gate when I got the call. Another one, needing to talk to me. Where and when? typical tyme for meeting people – 7pm. typical place for meeting people – JJ Bean. There’s always a way out there for both parties involved. I’m deviating. So i was there for her. Then we went to another meeting. Now I’m no meeting hater, but I think I’m nearing 5 meetings in a single week and that’s quite a bit over my normal tolerance. But i had to go. I had to be there for her. We like to be the judges of other people. Whethere they’re doing okay or not. Whether our perception of their current state of being is enough to justify us saying “See ya!” and for our conscience’s to be alright with that. Well, sometimes, a lot of times, people just don’t want to ask for help. No one wants to ask for someone to just be their friend. To just be their with them cause they actually had a rough day and need to talk. Or to just be there with them cause they are scared. Sometimes ya just got to take the initiative and be there for them without them asking. So we hung out. Having a mindset of service allows one to be immensely tolerant and patient. Fuck does it ever. Then boom. Met a guy at the meeting with something less days clean than i have fingers on my hand. I chatted with him for a while. I was there for him. He knows no one here. He just moved here from Fort McMurray and within two days was down on Hastings smoking rock with the best of them. And here he was, shaking and clenching his jas, jockeying for a comfortable position as we talked. There’s no comfort when all you wanna do is get back to the rock. I asked him if he was done yet, if he really wanted to get sober. He said yeah. Then I told him I want to show him exactly what I did. The steps. I did them and I didn;t want to. No one wants to do them. They’re a drag when you’re doing them and all you wanna do is get back to smoking rock. But you don’t, right? There’s a little bit of you inside that hates it. That hates the demoralization and self-loathing. And that little part is what gave me the willingness to just fucking try doing all the steps. I did all of them and didn’t fuck around. I didn’t want to do them and I did them anyway. And look, I’m still sober. I don’t know how it fucking works but it did. So that’s what I told him. I’m picking him up tomorrow night and i’m gonna talk with him more about how he can do what I did and probably not have to smoke rock again. I’m excited for him. It’s gonna blow him away.

“I’m a junkie, right? Why should she want me anyway?” I used to think that. Now I think, “I used to be a junkie. Holy fuck, doesn’t she realize how amazing that is? How amazing I am for being through what I went through and being the wicked person I am now?” then I stop talking to my roommate’s cat and go to bed.

When i was talking to that guy tonight, the newbie, the guy fresh off crack-express, there was a moment ya know. There was a moment there where I wasn’t thinking about anything else other than “how can I really help this guy?” And that was a fucking amazing moment. That’s the moment that I was born for today. All the fucking worrying about being rejected and pitying myself for not having the girl I want and massing heaps of loneliness upon myself amounted to shit for me. But that moment? That moment I was not even thinking about myself. I was looking in to that dude’s eyes. His sketchy, scared eyes and thinking about nothing else other than transmitting information that I possess which could save his life.

I could really whine a lot abotu how much I miss her but that would be fucking pointless. Aren’t you tired of hearing about it already? It really wouldn’t be very fun for me to explain it all again to you, incase you forgot. It just didn’t work out. End of story. Tomorrow I’m gonna wake up and it’s gonna be the beginning of the rest of my life and I don’t need to settle for anything less than that which i deserve which is a hell of a lot better than wallowing in this mire of depression and feelling like I’m missing out. I’m not missing out. It hurt when we were together, and I sometimes lose sight of that. What I have to gain is much larger much better. I’m going to be a truly greater human being tomorrow and everyday following. Fuck tomorrow, let’s start now.

Fuck. It’s been a long time since I’ve actually wrote. This is writing for me. Not recording events. Writing is talking abstractly. Talking with the mind, not the memory bank.

Got home tonight and it seems someone tried to break in to our house while we were all out. The sliding glass patio door was off it’s track. That generally doesn’t happen while the door is fully closed and locked. If it was anyone in the house it would have happened while sliding the door. Thus I can pretty surely deduce that we were near broken in to. My door out on to my upstairs deck was wide open too. I think it was left open though, not broken in to, cause nothing is missing. Tomorrow I am calling AlarmForce and getting some vicious wild boars to patrol the back yard.

Worked a bit today. Buidling another fence. This one is a cheap throw-up from prebuilt panels on the east east side. As eastvan as you can go before it becomes Burnaby. It’s easy though. But working in the blazing heat, digging holes, mixing concrete and setting posts is exhausting work. I don’t mind exhausting work. It’s just, well, exhausting.

Wow. what a boring post. mmmmmmmeeeeeeeehhhhhhhh.

Watching Sid & Nancy in my new place. And Five minutes has passed since I wrote that. I’m distracted. Okay, well. I like having a real house. There’s a front door, a back foor, A deck, a living room with couches coffee tables and a tv, a second floor with it’s own bathroom, a basement and a garage. wow. k, i can’t concentrate on this right now. fuck it. my roommates rock. my band is in shambles and we’re trying to work something out. i am smoking two packs of cigarettes a day. somedays just one. two when i’m working. I get really stressed out and agro lately. get the desire to beat someone’s head in with a crowbar atleast once a day, usually twice and almost always in traffic. haven’t had a satisfying day at work in over two weeks. just a lot of fucking around getting materials, ted changing his mind, the clients changing their minds, me fucking up, and just a fucking waste of time and energy. I just want a big job with all the materials pre-bought and delivered. Like framing a house. I could go for that right now. A few solid weeks work. 40 hours a week framing 8-4. that is what i want. my chicken is thawing in the kitchen. i should go create something and eat it now. it’s friday night and i have no plans tonight. i might work tomorrow. i can’t decide. i only worked 5 hours yesterday and 8 hours today. i really should work tomorrow. lately i have been really unmotivated to do anything. getting out of bed is once again a struggle. if left to my own devices, that is, if i don’t have any commitments i sleep as much as possible, then when i’m awake i play vids and guitar and otherwise bum around. i guess the worst thing is just how i feeeeel. i feel like a sack of shit. I noticed the other day that I have pretty much entirely been neglecting my spiritual growth. In fact until the otherday I completely forgot i am a spiritual being locked in this body of flesh. i am still operating day to day bound in this fucking horrible hell of a physical world. it’s hell when there’s no freedom in the way of spiritual release. k. gotta go eat, smoke and sleep now. FUCK.

So… I was jamming downtown with Cory and I left my backpack in the back of my van. Got home and realized it was not there. I must not have locked the doors and someone stole it. Fucking weak skills. It could have been a lot worse. Could have been my laptop. Could have been my cellphone. Could have not taken my passport out of the front pocket yesterday. I used to scathe around downtown looking for stuff to steal. bikes, cars with the key in the ignition, anything not tied down or not locked up. I guess an open van with a DaKine backpack in it would have been a good score for the new generation of scathers. I suppose i can’t be that pissed. How many thousands of dollars did i rip off other people? How much property did I destroy? How many lives did I affect?

So count your losses:
DaKine backpack
favorite sunglasses from Urban Outfitters
iPod Mini, 6GB
two sets of alright headphones
airline ticket stubs from Cuba
sunscreen
a bunch of pens
nalgene water bottle
new $60 swimtrunks
old boardshorts
pair of desert camo pants
an apple
phone bill
bank statement

all totally replaceable. meh.

I have ten minutes.

I worked 9.25 hours today. 8:30-5:45
Not sure where this sudden motivation to work outside my usual regimented 8-4 shift came from. I want a motorcycle. I want Lorea to ride on the back of my motorcycle and drive really fast down long country roads. I also want a BMW 3 series from the late 80’s, the ones with the classy round headlights. I want more of this travel/vacation business. Cuba was great. I never went away anywhere by myself before. And why not? I figure I should go on a trip like that every 6 months.

I got a raise today. Ted mentioned he had to talk to me about something. I was like, “uh oh.” called him after work. He was playing baseball. He told me I have two options. Either take the rest of my $1000 bonus with this paycheck, or start my new wage with this pay period. Either way i will get both eventually, just i have to pick which i want for this paycheck, cause he has a lot of expenses to pay out this week. And that was that: He gave me a raise. I wanted one a couple months ago. A couple months ago i was selfishly dying for a raise. But what he offered out of the blue is much higher than what i would have asked for. He told me I am very valuable to him and he wants to make it very lucritive for me to continue to work for him. He told me he is so grateful to have me as a employee and that the work i do is great. I was smiling the biggest smile through all of this.

Rush rush rush. work, shower, jam. work, shower, sushi, meeting, jam. work, shower, jam, meeting. that has been the last two days. got to go. ten minutes.

I had a fantastic day at work yesterday. It was really easy. Got to a new site in North Van, almost Deep Cove. Building a fence. Fir and Cedar. Pressure-treated. Ted explained how he proposed we build it. He had spent sunday setting the first 7 posts street-side in concrete. I started building the panels which would link the posts to one another. I have to build about 16 of these panels. I built three on monday, and today i built three as well but cut about two hours off the overall build time. I will only get faster at building them. so it should only take me another three days or so to finish building all the panels. ANyway, i was talking about my fantastic day YESTERDAY. Time just flew by. It was lunch before i even really thought about it. Then what seemed like only a couple hours later Ted told me to pack up. I thought we were leaving early suddenly, but it turned out it was already 5pm. So, 9 hours Monday, and then today I just felt good enough to work a long shift – 10 hours. I may be motivated because I enjoy working with wood a lot. Other tasks like painting and finishing carpentry makes time seem to drag. Framing and rough carpentry such as fence-building are really fun for me and i kick ass at both.

In other news, I was unloading bags of concrete out of the van and i noticed that each bag was 55lbs. One bag certainly didn’t seem like much of a stress for me, which was surprising. I guess I always thought 55lbs would be heavier. So I tried two. No problem. Then I tried lifting three bags at one time. It was tough, but i’d say i was still only at about 85% of my lift capacity. If that estimate is correct I should be able to max out my lift capacity at lifting 195lbs dead weight. I weigh around 185lbs. I was pretty proud of that. I almost wanted to tell Ted, but i thought it’d come out sounding like I was a ponce.

Ponce is my new word fascination. Every week or so I get a new word stuck in my head. Not necessarily a new word, but just a word. Sometimes they’re insults or cusses swirling around in my head. Last week it was ‘goof’. This week it’s ‘ponce’. That internal monologue in your head? The sound of your thoughts whirling around consuming your life with an endless chatter of useless pondering, judging, calculating, organizing, evaluating, worrying. It’s that voice. But the last few days that voice has been astonishingly quiet. ALl it says today is Ponce. Ponce. Ponce.

Had a really amazing night last night. It was so painful to not be with her. After a few days of pain I had to see her. I dropped in on her work. She was wearing this fedora and looked perfectly angelic. It took her a couple moments to realize it was me looming in the entrance. We hugged a hug of eternal longing. We cuddled, we kissed. We spoke kindly of one another. I boosted up my Cuban skin in the express bed. She cleaned the bed after me and i could not help but gently finger her lower back as she bent over.

Anna was having a blast of a party at her house. It was a good time. A whole lot of my friends were there. Everyone was there. I barbequed a really large steak and ate it. It was tender and raw in the middle, the way i like it. The olive oil and salt and pepper massage i gave it just amped the level of the flavour through the roof. Pork chops not so good. A bunch of us went down to shine around 10:30 or 11. When we got there the club was dead and we considered leaving. no energy. no one was dancing. I was dancing the moment i went through the door. We ripped it up on the dancefloor. WE started the whole club on a steady elevation towards an all out party. I generally dance my ass off. I don’t like to half-ass dance. That’s generally not how to dance. Dancing is one of those things you need to put yourself in to 110% otherwise it is uncomfortable and lame. So i expended a lot of energy in the first hour and then i was really hot, really sweaty and pretty much exhausted. It was still fun. We all danced.

Left the club, phoned her and she was just getting off the skytrain at Commercial. We met up at my house at exactly the same time. It was like clockwork. I was really excited to see her. I was really excited she was at my house. We showered. She was apprehensive to shower with me. She thought she might later regret it. I left the option open to her. She came in the shower while i was still turning the knobs. We watched Oz, the episode we left off on. Season 4, Episode 3. I don’t think details in here are necessary. But i’d should note that what followed was hands down the best physical contact i have ever experienced followed by the absolute best sex i have ever had in my entire life. goddam. all i can say is goddam. she kissed me goodbye in the morning. atleast i think she did. i hope she did. i was half asleep still.

so tired right now. have to nap. need to recharge. i have no idea what is going to happen when i wake up.

So yeah. I got home from work and showered and now i’m smoking a Cuban cigar, a Cohiba Esplendido. This really is the best brand of cigar i have ever smoked. And i have a box of them. Well, half a box now. I gave 12 of them away to some of my friends whom i knew would appreciate a good cigar. Cory, Devitt, Ronan, Carl, Elliot, Rob, Chris, Ben and three for Ted cause he is my boss and it seemed like an appropriate thing to do. That’s 11. I’m missing someone. Oh well. I feel so calm write now. My body is pretty stoned on this here cigar. Freud smoked 20 cigars a day and swore by them. He said he couldn’t write unless he had his cigar. He also became addicted to cocaine.

So i was in Cuba for the last week, June 3-10. To sum it up: I had a really relaxing, mind-expanding trip. I’ve pretty much devulged all the stories from Cuba to people verbally, so I really don’t feel like writing it all down in here. It would take wuite a while. Many stories. While i was there, experiencing the heat, the insects, the resort, the beach, the people, the entertainment, total removal from my home life I made a list of words, to be later associated – just sort of a sketch of things there so i would not foget them. I’d like to post that here:

anorexic cows
starved dogs w/ fleas
bird cages in streets
banana trees
sugar plantations
horse-drawn carriages
manual labour
prison camp
small ponmy-like horses
thunder like a volcano
passport checks
pretty women
1950’s cars
chicas
they all like my clothing
anything for a peso
open sewage/garbage
baseball stadiums
airport tax
Michael and Michael
Fumigator
crocodile farm
Lazaro
Liset
green. yellow. pink. blue. white.
brick and mortar
parish
cathedral
catholicism
4 hrs to Trinidad
worst 30 minutes of my life (shitty pants)
no toilet seats
no toilet paper
no toilet lid
mosquitos
cave rave
bats
turkey vultures
crab in the pool
beach w/ alex

yeah. I don’t know what else. this is a boring post. not really in to it 100%. but this cigar is pretty damn good. had a good conversation with cory last night about emotional dependence in relationships, and how much it licks ass. a good way to tell if that’s the case in any given relationship is if you can define a sudden onset of deep neediness, like a craving to be with that person, to have that person close, to have their attention and approval and then to notice whether that deep need is transient – whether it dissapears in a relatively short time period. Say, if one moment you really desire that person and then a few hours later don’t really need them very badly, or are pretty content without them. What’s actually going on is an emotionally-based need, and to fulfill that need with the other person is practically like using someone as a drug. it was a good conversation and he was pretty dead-on.

Worked in the sun all day. It was really beautiful out, very sunny. I got a lot of sun even though i wore sunscreen. I haven’t washed my hair in a week. Gonna see how long i can go without shampooing it. Finishing up the soffits on Sylvia’s house. Taking longer than i want it to and it makes me frustrated. Ted is really stressed out cause his ex-gf just checked in to treatment. Also Sylvia has been putting pressure on him given that she expected her soffits to be done by now. Sometimes it’s hard to not be affected by the emotions of those around me. I feel bad for ted cause I really think he’s a great guy and a greater boss and it hurts me to see him sad and stressed. I talked to him at the meeting tonight. He said he wasn’t alright and his eyes were tearing and mine started tearing automatically as well.

I was looking forward to jamming tonight all day. When it came down to it I found our rehearsal really frustrating. i just feel that i what i want to write, the music i want to write never is realized when i jam with others. my songs always get changes, diluted. i really just wanna be in a band, a very particular band in my head, and be touring on the road playing shows, rocking venues. seems like i can never get there.

I’m lonely. right now, i’m alone and i’m lonely. my bed is so empty without her. i miss her. that kind of love seems so far away now, like it’ll be forever till i can be in love like that again. i hate that. i hate being lonely. it’s the worst. i started remembering a bunch of great things about her and then i had to make myself remember the bad things cause it was hurting too much to not have the good things. i’m supposed to be pouring my anger and sadness and loneliness in to my music and art but neither seem to come even close to satisfying. fuck. chain smoking helps. so does masturbating like 5 times a day. i look forward to work, helps me focus on something else, and unlike the band thing when i build stuff it usually turns out surprisingly beautiful and gratifying. think i need to be playing with a different band.

need a new cell phone.