Best Friends

(pics taken from Steve Walkers site ... great pictures for sure ... gay icon for the arts)

And so one thing I've noticed is that as of late, I haven't been as frequent as usual with my postings. I used to be a twice a day blogger when I started, but now I'm more of a twice a week kind. What does this mean? Did anyone notice? Is it a good thing? Is my blog entertainging or at the very least, interesting?

For the most part, am I just running out of shit to say ... ? nah ... I'm just busy. With trying to get myself established and finding the right path for my life (btw ... I've decided I'm saying NO to law school, and YES to film school ... thank you to a new friend who has helped me realise my true passions), and also having limited internet access (yes, I still don't have a pc of my own), I just don't have the time or resources to do what I want with this blog.

Anyways ... onto other things. There are days where my mind seems to be focused on certain themes. As a thinker and observer ... I'm used to it. Although it gets kind of depressing at time (I usually go over serious shit and whatever I feel is missing in my life at the time ... so yeah, I really need to stop doing that), this past weekend it hasn't ended up like that at all. I was speaking with an avid karaoke'er the other night and we got into discussing his partner of 10 years who was just recovering from surgery. And I was in awe in how he spoke of him. Just the brief mention of his partner light up his eyes and brought about a smile that was priceless. He missed the fact that his partner wasn't there to sit with him throughout the night and even mentioned he feels lost at night when we awakes to find himself alone in his bed. And all the while he spoke, I sat there and listened and laughed (cause there were a few hilarious stories about camping) and prayed and hoped that someday I too will find my best friend. And thats what I noticed, of all the couples I spoke too and met, I observed their behaviour with each other and noticed they were best friends. All the couples I met this past weekend actually didn't leave me depressed. I didn't look at them and realise that I don't have that (it was a thought, but only a fraction of a second) and maybe its because I didn't feel left out. In fact, I looked at them and was only filled with hope instead of despair. It was heartwarming.

Maybe I am changing. Maybe I am becoming a better person. Maybe I am happy for once.

And he walks by ...

I was walking down the street after yet another mediocre night at the bar. Now don't get me wrong, I love going and meeting new people and conversing with the regulars. But the routine of it all is becoming mundane. I don't get repetition, therefore I don't like repetition. And as I was walking down the city streets, I was beginning to think of change. I needed change. I needed something different to do with my time. I needed aother forms of excitement.

This thought began to linger and and I started to analyze it even more and more; trying to figure out why I was dwelling on it and why it was significant for me to think about it consistently at that moment. And it hit me ... it was becoming repetitious because I was never going with anyone, nor leaving with anyone. I can have good coversations and such ... but never was I there to meet up with anyone, I was just kind of there. I was a fly on the wall so to speak.

And depression lingered.

I continued walking along the lonely street that would eventually lead to my apartment. Not one vehicle in sight nor can one be heard. It was just me and the city. And so I continued on ... not really wanting to go home but knowing I'll end up there anyways. I sucked it in, and ventured home.

Dwelling on my current state, I was disturbed by an odd sound; a squeaky sound. It caught my attention because it too was repetitious for it followed my every footstep. Step, squeak. Step, squeak. Stop, nothing. Step, squeak. And it had occured to me that I was hearing this squeaky sound the moment I hit the street, the moment I was walking in silence. I looked down at my runners, the source of the squeak. I peered for a moment at the faded black velvet with is reflective decor that no longer shown. As worn as they were, I continued to wear them. And I continued walking. Step, squeak, thought. Step, squeak, thought. Step, squeak.

And a familiar but more distant sound was faintly heard. Another squeak from another shoe. I lifted my heard in search of its source; and in the distance, a homeless man staggered. His squeak was getting louder and louder as he staggered closer and closer. I can hear clearly my shoes squeak rythmically with his. Closer and closer, louder and louder ... then fainter and fainter. He had passed.

And as I had watched him pass me, I thought where is a homeless man walking to with such determination at 2:45 in the morning? Where does he have to go? And it hit me, like a big yellow school bus ... he's homeless, and I'm not. I turned around to watch him leave, and I can clearly see under the dimly lit street lamps the dirt on his denim jacket. The holes in his jeans. His tattered and crooked hat. His scruffy unkempt grey hair. All his features, all of him, disappear and reappear with each street light he staggered under. Repetitiously he faded in and out of darkness.

I'm a fool.

That night, as I got home, I stood in contempt on the balconey of my top floor apartment and smoked a cigarette in thanks. Thanks for the repetition, thanks for the changes. Thanks for my life.

Pics from Euro

And So I finally scanned my pictures from my Europe trip and saved them in JPEG format. Which means I can finally post them on the net ... and my fellow readers can also finally see what I myself look like. (and the suspense builds) ... that is of course if I don't alter them ... I just have this thing about posting my pics on the net ... its not really something I like to do. But you'll see.

Until then ... have a good weekend.

NAME CHANGE

I've been asked to come up with a name already ... RIGHT ON! I HAVE READERS, YAY! ... but of course that is something I knew already. Yet, it still humbling to hear it again.

Anyways, I'm torn as to whether or not I should simply change the title on this site and keep the url the same ... or whether or not I should shut down this blog and start anew .... meh ... I'll just change the name on this site and keep the url the same. I don't have much people linking me, but for those who do, I'll keep it simple for you.

And here's the new name ... " A Stitch in Mind" .... it makes more sense to me than "And Here I Am" ...

REASONING:
"And Here I Am" implies a sense of self, a definition of who I am. And I'm certain that as of late my postings have implied that I'm on a road to discovery. And with my head over here and there and thinking about this and that and still encountering events for the first time (being that I'm a small town country gay boy living in conservative Alberta) ... I know that I haven't established myself. And besides, the real reason behind it all ... I just want something creative.

So, good-by "And Here I Am" ... and Hello to "A Stitch in Mind" .... (and yes, the URL is the same ... it just easier that way ... )

And I Give Thanks

I was walking home from the bar yesterday, feeling pretty good about myself as I usually do when I go out for Karaoke. Maybe it was because I actually left the bar early (due to limited funds) and was about to get some good well deserved rest. Maybe it was in incessant chatter of bar regulars and realising I was actually involved in the chatter. Either way, whatever the case may be, I felt content. Hell, I even felt lucky and fortunate.

I stood on my balconey, smoking one of the last two cigarettes I had and stared off into the city below. With each puff, I smiled and said a lil prayer. A prayer of gratitude, a prayer of thanks. A prayer not meant to ask for anything, but just to say thank you to the many blessings I've encountered in the past few months. Thanks to family who are so far away. Thanks to friends, old and new. Thanks for my job. Thanks for the weight loss. Thanks for karaoke (yes, I even said thanks for that). Thanks to specific people. And most of all, thanks for my life. As stressful and depressing and lonely it may seem at times, thanks for my life.

I finished my cigarette. Looked up at the night sky reflecting city lights, and asked for a blessing for all the people in my life. Bless them as much as I have been blessed.

SO YOU KNOW

Okay ... this whole "And Here I Am" title is kind of pissing me off, and I don't know why.

I want to change it, and I'm going to. Just so you all know for future references. This is the pre-warning to the actual warning

And Here's A Euro Recap

Everyone's first trip is always filled with exciting adventures and worthy-telling anecdotes. Especially if that trip is to Europe (I don't care where, if your Canadian anywhere in Europe is good). And so, I do have a recap.

As you may know (or may not, really doesn't matter since I'm going to tell you anywways), I have had my first European vacation ever just last month. Two whole weeks seeing sights and drinking foreign beer (plus some babysitting for amateur drinking youths) and alas the gay event of any trip, shopping. All of this if fine and dandy and definately one I will never forget.

However, it is Florence, Italy that will forever remain truly significant for me.

My trip consisted of 16 people, a combination of ages ranging from 15-50 years old, and all people from my home town. So needless to say none of them knew I was gay (and a special thank you *rolls eyes* to the politics of small Alberta towns, they will never know, at least not if I can help it). And, twas a good thing my mom came along as well, cause at least she knew.

For the majority of my trip, the young (in my case 'younger') boys of the tour hung out with me and were attached to my hip. I could not shake them no matter how I tried. But while in Florence, they vanished to my relief. And all that was left of the group was me and my mom. It was god-given moment for it was perfect time spend with her since I haven't seen her in a long while, since my move to Calgary.

We had gone for coffee (THANK GAWD for Starbucks!) and sat on the street side tables enjoying each others company; soaking in the scenary and revelling in the fact that a year of hard work in fundraising had finally paid off. It was perfect. The sun shining, and hundreds of people walking below the towering antique buildings of yester-era and the sweet necture of caffiene slowling flowing over my tongue. Perfect. Especially since I was sharing this with the person I cherish most, my mom.

I can't remember how it happened, but we both ended up talking about ourselves and where we were in our lives. And this turned out to be the perfect conversation as we ended up talking about the men in our lives as well. This is the first gay themed conversation we ever had since I came out to her a few months back. And it flowed naturally. We were both comforted with each others presence as she spoke of her new beau and I spoke of my first crush. We were both wonderers taking a break from our endless paths and realising that for the first time we had come across each othe. It didn't need to be spoken or revealed that that was the case, it just needed to be felt and we both knew it was accepted. We knew we missed each other. We always loved each other. Yet we were always living our own story. And at that moment, sucking back our Starbucks coffee, we knew we had just begun an exciting chapter of both our lives.

For once, our own personal story books had come together naturally. And in one of the most beautiful cities in the world.

We will always have Florence ... or Starbucks .. whichever way one will think about it.

And It Makes Sense

I love reading stories online, especially well written ones. And with that said, KUDOS over at 20-Sumthing. Its the kind of story that just got me thinking, a story of a young gay lad who just realised he's gotten what he wished for.

That actually got me thinking. Have I ever received anything that I wished for. And so I back tracked to the time in my life where I was the loneliest. And my life now in comparison to then has been phenomenal. I'm in a new city, living a gay life as opposed to a suppressed one, always meeting new people; losing weight naturally (sure I go to the gym, but I haven't been in two months, and I'm still losing weight), and everything just seems to go my way lately (except for financial matters, but I'll blog about that at another time, perhaps ...)

But 20-Sumthing's story about Jay (which oddly enough is my nickname back home) is mainly focused on finding a b/f. Now that I don't have. I'm still ol single me, which is great becuase I feel I need to establish myself as a young gay lad and I need to find out where I'm going in life anyways. But, back to the question "have I receieved anything I wished for?", and in regards to men ... actually yes I have. I was actually blown away when I discovered this too, I haven't realised it until I read 20-Sumthing's blog.

Awhile back, I posted a "What Kind Of Guy's Are My Type" themed posting. Back then, I didn't know for sure but still knew enough as to what would ... well, turn me on essentially. And frankly, here it is in a nutshell ... you can click the headline to get to the original posting.

- short hair, dirty blonde or brunette
- tall, 5'11 - 6'3
- stocky, husky build (no fem's ... no offense, just does nothing for me)
- music related soul
- confident and outgoing (added)

And the realisation is that the guy I'm crushin on, theguy whom I also know really likes me too, is the epidemy of what I saw that day. Remind you, this post was made back in April, it is now Sept and I'm in a new city and an entirely new setting. Well, thank you universe. I don't know what to do with this information now, especially since I'm just coming to terms that perhaps I should day good-bye (or "see you later" is probably a better standpoint) to my crush. All that, and I find out he's the one I wished for. WHAT'S UP WITH THAT?!

(U P D A T E !!! After reading the entire story, I don't feel as if I'm 'Jay', for I don't feel as if my crush completes me as oppose to the character's boyfriend. My crush does fill some empty portion of me and for sure allows me to feel something more than I have ever felt before, but I'm not young and I know I need to be complete on my own before I'm "with" anyone else. ... I just needed to say that. ON ANOTHER NOTE ... still awesome writing, I feel as if Jay in the story is about to make a big mistake in throwing himself entirely at his new beau and in his attempt to not sound crazy, he inadverntly WILL sound crazy. Almost obsessed ... now me wonders if I'll be wrong ...)

And so I'll let it be

And I haven't seen him since. It gets kind of tiring knowing you like someone but they are never to be found. It definately sucks knowing you like someone but you only get a chance to see them once a week, twice if your lucky, and its mostly done by chance. What REALLY sucks in knowing they really like you too. And What REALLY REALLY sucks is actually making this whole situation, even though it gets me feeling lonely and wanting so much more, and turning it all around into a positive experience.

Why do I not see my crush? Simple, he's established, grounded. Whereas I'm not. I just moved here to Calgary and therefore don't really have any friends to call over for a beer or something. I don't have friends to go to a movie with or out to the bar with (and I mean going over to a friends place and starting there). No. Instead I have aquaintances. People I see from time to time and always out at the bar. The only time I'm with people I know is because we casually run into each other while on a night out. The only routine I do have is karaoke a few times a week, which usually results in drinking. And with this, I'm fine. Because it tells me I'm not alone and that people do enjoy my company, even if it is while in a drunken stupor. I mean, it could definately be so much worse. Total Loneliness is something I've felt before and wish to never feel again.

But, back to the point. When I think about my crush, the guy I'm totally digging at the moment, I think in terms of what do I have to offer. I look at him, and see him and see what he does, and chat with his friends ... I mean for someone to work and DJ (both fixed gigs and whatever he sets up on the side) and to have so many friends who know exactly who he is and have something positive to say about him ... well that just tells me he has a life. And I look around at what I'm doing ... well, I don't do as much as he.

Intimidating? Yes, at times. But I also know that it just takes time. I'm still on a road to self discovery. So many interests like photography and learning to play my guitar and realising that my writing is coming back, well theres so much I need to learn for myself. And I'm finally in a situation where I can nuture it. So, as much as I would LOVE to be with the man, perhaps I just need to take this time and just be with myself.

Is this the right thing to do?

And I get to see HIM

NOT DEPRESSING, really. Actually endearing and sentimental ...

But first an update to yesterdays post ... Did I get drunk, Nope. Am I still an alcoholic, Yes.

So last night I gave myself a curfew. After running a few errands after work I did make my way to the bar. Was only there for 45 minutes. then left to go home. Well, that didnt last long. In fact, I left again to go play some pool at the Calgary Eagle for free pool wednesday. YAY! Hot men, free pool, more booze ... always a good time. And no I did not get drunk. More booze yes, but did not get drunk. For I wasnt there that long. Why you ask. Simple. I got to see the guy Ive been crushin on for two months now.

I mentioned him breifly in another post. The guy I couldnt stop thinking about while in Paris, France. Him. I got to see him again. And still as sexy as ever. He invited me back to the original bar I was just at earlier, and there as per usual our flirting began. It took awhile since he was with his Daddy, but Im sure he wouldnt have minded since I knew him from before. But, I still didnt know their relationship so I played it cool. But I think I lost that cool when I gave my crush a necklace I bought him while in Germany. For the past couple of days I was actually wondering if I would see him again for it was all looking a lil iffy. And this actually goes back to when I seen him last, before my big Euro Trip.

I seen him a week before my departing flight. The usual occured, he would go out with co-workers and end up at the bar I frequent. There the flirting ensued. This time it was different though. He told me he liked me, that he really really like me. And even asked if I could be his daddy. Hell, I was all up for that. But then he asked my age. Now I am not one to lie. And when he heard, he seemed to have pull away abit. Like most, I dont think he expected me to be as young as I am. But at least he didnt run. He was caught off guard, but he stayed. We made arrangements to meet elsewhere at another date. He asked me to meet him at another bar afterhours. And so I did. But he didnt show.

Now everyone always remembers the time they get stood up, no matter who it is. If its a coffee date, you remember, a romantic evening, you remember. And no matter who you are, you feel hurt, devastated. Well, I at that time was definately hurt, and definately felt it the whole walk home. But I was only hurt because I perceived him to have pulled away because of my age. I eventually got over it. I just needed time to think about it and what it could mean. I had hoped to see him just so I could let him know what I was leaving for two weeks ... but no dice. The couple of days when I wouldnt see him had turned into a guaranteed three weeks of not seeing him. I just didnt what him to think I was mad or anything for him not showing up. I know shyte happens. And, I talked to a couple of guys who know him very well and they assured me that if he doesnt show up when he says hes going to, then something happened. sure enough, thats what happened. turns out his boss wouldnt let him leave at his scheduled time to leave.

N E Ways, three weeks of not knowing where we were at and knowing fully well that the time apart would affect what MAY have been there was torturing me. I was actually glad to be coming home when the plane finally descended. But, another week passed and I still hadnt seen him. And so I was actually holding on to this necklace for roughly a month, not knowing if I would be able to give it to him. But also knowing that I couldnt just give it to anyone else. I was meant for him. Even I couldnt wear it.

He liked the necklace and even showed it off to his daddy, who was also actually hooking up with another lad that night. So I got to see his apartment, spend time with the guy, sleep with him (and I mean literally sleep with him) and now here I am. Glad that the time that has passed since I seen him last has occured. Why. It helped me to think. I helped me to not rush into a situation blindfolded. Without him being around I was free to search myself and realise that he is my first crush and that in regards to love and relationships, I actually am young. As mature as I portray myself to be, Im still a kid when it comes to love.

I still dont know where we are at with each other. But at least I know he likes the necklace.

Hi Everyone. My name is _______. And I'm an Alcoholic.

Are we surprised? Nah, not really. I've always been upfront about my alcoholism. And I've always known that its not that big of a problem. (awaits the groans and moaning to stop) I've seen alcoholism at work, I know its gory details and the wrath it can inflict. I've personally been through it. So before you judge ... well, just don't. Okay?

So what brings this up? Why is it sooo important that I feel I must share it with the world? Simple. I've been drunk for a week. Not literally to the point where I'm drunk again five minutes after I wake up. But in the sense that its all I do in the evenings. After work, I go rollerblade, maybe I'll have something to eat, then its off to the bar. And this has been going on for week. Ever since I got back from Europe.

Its actually been exactly a week since I got back. And due to extreme Jet Lag, I crashed out at 6pm last wednesday even though I really wanted to go out (just wanted to see my crush again since I haven't seen him for three weeks. sad, ain't it?). But I did go out again on thurs, to see friends and converse about my trip. But I ended up getting drunk. Friday, got drunk. Sat, got drunk. Sun, got drunk. Monday, got drunk. Yesterday, got drunk. Today, will probably get drunk. Now, I don't know about you, but I see a pattern forming here.

Now, since my parents were alcoholics, and my older siblings ... being a full fledge alkie fuggin scares me. To have dependence on an intoxicating liquid, to me frankly, is sad. And I see that I'm starting to develope that dependency. Fug, screw 'developing', for its already there. But Why? Simply because of my social ineptness. Lets face, its easier to talk to the hot guy at the other end of the bar after a chug of confidence juice. And, not only am I socially inept, but I'm also just shy and very unassuming (quoting someone else on that one). And therefore, having a few drinks actually makes me socialable and conversive.

And now to the main point. Why? What makes alcohol significant to me? Why do I need it to become a social person? Well, I hate the answer, but its true. My self image is poor. My self-confidence is low. I feel that there is no one out there who knows me or even wants to get to know me and blah blah blah blah blah. Lets face it, its the usual self-depricating tapes that play in our heads when we're lonely. And for the most part thats it. I'm just lonely. I have bar friends, bar acquiantances. A night at the bar is definately alot better than sitting at home waiting for a dead phone to ring. And even if its just bar friends, thats better than no friends.

So hello everyone. My name is _________, and I'm an alcoholic.

Just so you know.

Well, I don't know about you ... but that last post has been the attention getter for far too long. And also, as serious as it is ... is also poorly written. I could have definately have done better with the writing on that lil reveal.

And also, since I just revealed that my stories are my own personal reveals (number one rule of all writing is "write what you know"), I feel I should at least make it known that I'm not in search of sympathy or pity. Keep it, it has no value for me. The reason I write is for the most part, just to get it off my chest. I say it cause I need to say it. It helps me to say it. And also, I feel that by expressing my own stories, it may help someone else in their own struggles.

Ever since the last story has happened, I've grown alot. That last reveal took place a decade ago. Obviously I'm still here. I will always be here, just so you know.

And I think thats all I need to say about that.

D's Choice

He sits alone at the foot of an empty bed in an empty room. Motionless. Expressionless. One is consumed at the empty abyss within his eyes. His packed school bag lies at his feet. He is fully dressed to face yet another exhausting day of school, to face yet another exhausting day of life. He's tired of pretending to be okay.

A long kitchen knife rests pointed towards his gutt. And still he sits like an empty shell.

A car horn honks once. Twice. And a longated third time stressing a rush. He hears it faintly even though it echoes from the front carport.

He finally looks up at himself in the wall length mirror before him. And standing behind him is his little sister. A lonely tears rolls down his cheek. He knows she's not really behind him. He saw her walk out the front door that morning, just a moments ago with his mother. He wimpers and barely audible cry.

He's very tired and ready to sleep. And suddenly, she smiles.

Years of repressed pain finally spill out like opening a flooded damn. He can't control the tears and the pain escaping into empty air. An epiphany has just taken place. She is only 4 years old, and the first lesson as an older brother he will teach her is the pain of loss. But not only that. The ultimate realisation taking place is that when he is gone, the pain he lives with, the darkness that consumes his every day will pass on to her. This he cannot have.

Another car horn, even more longated than the last one.

He gathers himself, wipes the tears and runs up the basement stairwell and returns the missing knife back into the kitchen. No one even knew it was missing. He runs out the door, and to the parked car where his mother, younger sister, and younger brother await him. He climbs in the front seat knowing fully well neither with know what was about to happen.

YOUR SO SLOW. His mother barks. WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO POKEY. I DONT KNOW WHY YOU KIDS ..... she goes as she usually does. He hears it all, soaks it all in knowing fully well it will be all he hears throughout the day.

He peers over his sholder and sees his younger brother nodding in the back seat of the car, head resting on the window as they pull away from the house. He looks at his lil sis, innocently sipping away at her juice box. She sees him, and smiles.

He knows what he must do. She must never doubt love.

Paris, France ... and I do nothing

I sit here in Paris France, 11:10 in the evening, Normally one would be getting ready or already hailing a cab to go to a club or whatever. As a gay man from Canada, and my heart was in it earlier, one would think I'd definately be trying to hit up the gay clubs of good ol' Paris. But no, not me. Not this time. Kind of a waste when you realise that I'm leaving tomorrow back to Germany and Paris will no longer be in arms length. And considering my financial situations and personal spending habits, Paris may never be in arms length ever again. So why aren't I trying my best in getting to the gay clubs and trying to experience gay cultcha in a foriegn land?

Well, I'm tired. As a chaperone I have to "set an example" for the younglings that are on the trip with me. And since this is supposed to be a church group, me going to a gay club will most likely BLOW their mind. But is that really the case. No. Me going to clubs alone ... well theirs just something sad in that. Something that I personally can't evercome at this moment. For me, it takes time to rid myself of self-pity. Unfortunately time is nothing I have.

But the main reason. My mind has been preoccupied with something else. Something else that takes me away from the problems or everyday situations that one goes through, well, everyday. And this something is actually a someone. Total infatuation with someone who is the sexiest, most confident, most handsome man to ever walk this earth. No one has ever been on my mind like he has. There has been no one that I ever thought of in such away in regards to possibilities of the future. And for a long time I thought that such a feeling would never exist for me. I'm glad to say that I was wrong.

And I keep thinking about him too. His smile that just sucks you right in. His sexy voice. His consistently well maintained haircut. His husky body weight when he presses up against me. His eyes and the way they sparkle (okay, now that one was just cliched) when I look into them. And the way his smiles gets bigger when he catches me staring at him, or so it seems.

Here I sit in the most beautiful city in the world (up for debate), and I find myself thinking about the most beautiful man in the world (never up for debate).

Is this what love is? Is this what an infatuation is? This is a first for me so I can't tell. As many of my readers may know (okay, so I may not have that many, but I have to boost my ego somehow), I usually write about depressing, serious shit.

Well, whatever this is, I'm glad I'm feeling it. Even if I don't know whether or not we'll be together.

Greetings from Switzerland

well, here I am ... bored beleive it or not. Nothing to do ... and really dont want to spend any money. Its fucking expensive here ... totally did not expect that. Although I should have I suppose. Plus, theres just a different attitude in the air. All dealing with kids in my tour group who were drinking and yadda yadda yadda. Really dont want to get into it at this moment. Maybe I will another time, who knows.

But, on the positive side. My creative side is totally being fed here. I think Ill get into photography or something. Awesome view no matter where we go. Especially on the roof top of the hotel Im in right now. But frankly, I just wish all my pics werent taken with a disposable camera. And I HOPE some of them turn out too ... the lighting was a little iffy. But we will see.

I will get back to this blog whenm I get home after the 24th this month. Have a good one all of you. PEACE.

Venice, Italy

So here I am in Venice Italy. And let me tell you ...

Well, I dont know what to tell you. This trip has literally been a crash course in the many places weve been to already. Dusseldorf, Tonz, Frankfurt, Cologne: all of which are in Germany. And now here in Venice. And it will only be today, which has officically ended. But oh well, cause Im here in Europe. Ever since I was kicked off the high school trip to Europe, Ive been praying to come here. And now, 7 years laters, here I am. If everything wasnt so fast paced, I could enjoy this experience more. And if I wasnt chaperoning at the same time, I could drink more too, lol. Oh well, what they dont know wont hurt me.

But, just dropping a line to all my readers, and I know I have some, YAY. Hope all is good with yall. Peace.

In Europe

Posting in Germany Today. Will be in Europe over the next two weeks. Iäll try to post while here ... but that will be hard. HAve a good one everyone.

Last Day: The Day Innocence Was Lost

"D ... its time to wake up."

"... D ..."

"...D. We need you to drive the truck."

My eyes finally open to who is waking me. It was my aunt. I had fallen asleep on the living room couch as I would normally do when my parents had gone out the night before. Normally I would hear them walk in the front door and at their best attempt while durnk, quietly stagger up the stairs to their bedroom. But last night, I heard nothing.

I smell something. So strong it reaches my stomache before I can fully awaken myself. Its not from my aunt who is still hovering over me. No. Instead this smell is familiar, and vast. It consumes the entire living room. Its source has been present for a while now. Its familiar, reminiscent. Its beer breath. Kind of sad when you realise that I'm only 12 years old and I can clearly recognize this smell. And I know its exact indication too. Beer breath in the living room means my father has made it to the bedroom and has fallen asleep on the couch next to me.

I finally sit up and gather my sense just as my aunt is about to wake away. And sure enough, the loud snores of my father releasing the vomit induing aroma of beer breath into the air proves me right. All familiar, except my aunt is here. Thats new. She's never here.

"Get up" she says, "we need you to drive the truck."

I look around again, soaking up the scenario I've awoken into in an attempt to understand what's going on. The sun has just risen over the mountian. "It's about 7 in the morning I think to myself." I yawn and get a biff whiff of stale beer breath; its not as vomit inducing as it first was. I see that the TV's off, unusual since I was the last of the kids to fall asleep and it was on then. there's and odd aura lingering in the air, something doesn't feel right. I see my aunt in what looks like tip toeing out the living and cautiously walk across the kitchen and down the stairs.

"Where's my mom?" I'm finally awake to speak. I follow her.

"She's in the bathroom downstairs. Wheres your brother and sister?"

"Asleep upstairs."

Thinking aloud I ask "Drive the truck to where?"

"To my house." Thats odd, she's never really enjoyed me and my bother at her house; not because she didn't like us but because when we would visit we'd leave the biggest mess possible and simply leave. Hence she would avoid when ever possible.

I follow her down the stairs as she disappears behind a door corner. I see the front door is wide open. The sun faintly but surely reflects its rays off the truck that I'm supposed to drive. Driving at 7 in the morning; been able to drive for 4 years now, but I've never had to drive in the morning.

I make my way down the short flight of stairs and peer around the corner which my aunt had just disappeared from. I hear her speak softly as I see my mom for the first time that morning. "D's awake."

"Okay," my mom sobs as she wipes the blood from her face.

A moment of eternal time consumes me whole. I don't know what to do or what to say. So I do nothing. I say nothing. Instead I watch and listen.

My mom wipes the tears from her eyes which also wipes away more blood. "Your coming to my place," My aunt instructs her.

"What about my truck," my mom asks.

"D's going to drive it."

"Ok."

Somehow, in this eternal time I'm consumed in, my younger brother and sister make their way from the beds, through the beer breathed consumed room, out the front door without me noticing. But they didn't see the blood on my mom. And no would, noe but me and my aunt; for that I'm glad. My mom and younger siblsings packed in with my aunt and they were off driving down the drive-way when I pulled myself out of the shock. And I had followed alone; fully realising that we had just left my father alone on the couch in a vast, now empty home ... house.

And I Sit In Darkness

I remember when during my first year college, when my roommate would be gone for the vening, I would turn off all electronics in the house off. And I mean everything. The TV, the stereo, all lights; and I would just sit in the living in complete silence and darkness. Just me alone and technologically free. Well ... almost technologically free. Most times I would turn on the electric fire place. A nice warm blaze at the flick of a switch. There was just something serene about just being in the moment, even if nothing was happening in that particular moment. Sometimes I would try to block out every comfort one could have and I would lie on the floor instead of on the couch. I would stare at the ceiling and try to reach a sense of enlightenment. But whatever I would do. I would be at peace. Just me and the calm of nothingness.


Too bad I live in a bigger city now. Cause even if I turn everything off in my apartment and even attempt to recreate the fire place with numerous candles, ... there will always be the hussle and bussle of regular downtown city life. There will always be sirens and traffic and people creeping through the window cracks to ensure the calm of nothingness ceases to exist.

AND I'M BACK

So my regular readers, what few of them I may have ... have noticed that I have not posted anything in a long time. For me, thats a good thing cause that means I'm actually working instead of surfing the net.

Anyways, its not like shit hasn't been happening, on the contrary in fact. I actually had a breakdown .. thanks to a combination of my own issues (yes I have them, you may judge me now, I frankly don't give a fuck), stress from life and work, and the drugged drink that was meant for my roommate and not me. But I recoverd well from it.

And why haven't I posted, well my MAC *rolls eyes* is givin me probs. Please don't ask me to fix shit, and I can't. Mostly because I won't, I don't want too, I might fuck it up even more. So I dare not too and just get someone else to do. But nevertheless, when I wanted to post something, I just wrote it down in hopes that I can post it later. A lot of them I ended up throwing out ... who knew that I would actually start gettin pickey in regards to my posting. But truth be told, most of them were just repetitious. I want to say something once, and thats it.

But theres a few I saved and really want to share. .... AND I'm going to do with separate posts. too

For those still reading, thanks.