Football

I am writing this because I was told to. When I asked him what to write about, he told me it was my blog, so I could do what I wanted. I found that kind of funny, how he said I should write, but then told me it was my blog. He suggested I write about him. A story maybe? Well, there you are. There's your story. If I was a bad a jerk, then I would end it all here, and I would have written, like I told him I would, even about what he suggested, while still making my point. However, I think I have more to write about, so I will. And it would be kind of chintzy to say I was going to write something and do that. So there. Integrity.

And Purity. I watched a movie. I don't get to watch many movies here on my hill. It wasn't on my hill, it was in a theater, but that made it more special. When do I see movies in theaters anymore? The last one I saw was...in June maybe? September lates. Jordan invited me, which was cool. And there were actually a bunch of people going, which was a pleasant surprise. And, apparently Tuesday is special at that theater, so we got pop and popcorn for free with our tickets. Crazy. I was thinking 'I sure ain't getting any overpriced theater food', but it happened. So I turned down the popcorn and got a fruit beer. It has been a while for those too. Jordan got a water, but, oops, it's carbonated. Sort of funny. We watched Blindside. I decided it is about purity. To some degree anyway. Maybe I'm delusional. Whatevs. I laughed and I cried, it was beautiful. An experience to be had.

It made me miss my lady friend a bit. I guess it is about nine more days. Yes, there is a countdown. Is that bad? I missed her because I decided I want to experience life with her. Friends, you can ask a lot of them, but you can't ask them to give up life as they know it to come live a life with you. It shouldn't be expected, and it is sort of weird to ask. Weird doesn't stop people anymore. To know and be known, to experience everything in this world with someone, that is special. That is why I miss her. Sometimes I think it is because I am a stupid boy, but it is more than that. But, enough of this.

I have it in my head that people don't like it when someone speaks of their other. So, I try to avoid doing it too much. I learned stuff at Bible College. Honest. Even some stuff about God. He does not work anything like I thought he might. I don't know how I thought he worked before, and maybe I didn't. I just thought he was. But he gives us chance on chance. Knowing more makes reading the bible fuller. same with prayer. It's funny, not 'haha' funny but a 'whoop whoop' funny, how now that it is more, I still don't do either much. I could get into comparisons between a boy and a girl and how God loves us, but I said I wouldn't talk of that much. Also, I am more accountable now for what I know. God gives us things for us, but we are supposed to share it. It ain't only for us.

I grew up in the church, and I have (or had. Who knows anymore?) a decent memory, so I know most of the bible stories. I went to the things with the youth groups. I know the kind of thing that is spoken of. And how often different things are spoken of, so much so, that when a person doesn't know something I have known since childhood, it throws me off a bit. I know. How could I think everyone knows what I knew? But it was so common, I assumed. As such, I feel like anything I might have to share ain't useful because it has all been heard before. There is nothing new under the sun, right?

That's the craziest thing though. Despite nothing being new, every child born has to catch up from the beginning. It is all new. Mark says that if a generation learned from history, well, we have never had that before. An entire generation not making the same mistakes as their fathers? What would happen? Israel, time and again were shown God's standard. Do this and I will make you plentiful. Do something else, reject me, I'll reject you, and you will be left to the world. Judges, over and over again. Kings, over and over again. What if...?

Also, God gives things to us to share. If we don't because we don't think anyone needs it, or that they have heard it all before... I'm not saying that everything you have been given needs to be publicly proclaimed. Motives. It always comes down to motives. If you announce everything that God has given you all the time, you better have a good reason, because I would probably like to punch you. Why do you say what you say? Somewhere, it is said that your words come from your heart. That is where evil or good comes from in a man. That is why you can give your body up unto the flames, and never once deny Jesus' name, but still not make it into heaven. It ain't nothing without love. Why do we do what we do?

Trust is a dangerous, difficult thing. Why dangerous? I'm talking about trusting in God. If he said something, he is going to do that. Do I trust that? The danger comes in when I decided God said he would do something he didn't. What am I then? I'm a fool, and I don't want to be a fool, so I can't pretend God said something he didn't. One of my realized goals in life is to not be stupid. Tricking myself into thinking my word is God's is stupid. But there are things that God defs said to do. It is in that book that he wrote. Loving enemies and neighbours and sharing what you are given. What if God lets you down? It sort of sounds silly to read, why would a God who loves you let you down? What if I wait for him to and he doesn't, what if I fall on my face because I trusted in him? They told me I was being silly. God loves me, and he will be there, and it would be silly to say he weren't. It's scary. What is my point? I don't know. I stayed up too late.

Trust God with your life, even though it is scary, and do things for the right reasons. Is putting stuff like this on the internet silly? Oh well.

Breastpiece for making decisions

The wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of men who suppress the truth by their wickedness, since what may be known about God is plain to them, because God has made it plain to them. For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse.

For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened. Although they claimed to be wise, they became fools and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images made to look like mortal man and birds and animals and reptiles.

Therefore God gave them over in the sinful desires of their hearts to sexual impurity for the degrading of their bodies with one another. They exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator—who is forever praised. Amen.

Because of this, God gave them over to shameful lusts. Even their women exchanged natural relations for unnatural ones. In the same way the men also abandoned natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for one another. Men committed indecent acts with other men, and received in themselves the due penalty for their perversion.

Furthermore, since they did not think it worthwhile to retain the knowledge of God, he gave them over to a depraved mind, to do what ought not to be done. They have become filled with every kind of wickedness, evil, greed and depravity. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit and malice. They are gossips, slanderers, God-haters, insolent, arrogant and boastful; they invent ways of doing evil; they disobey their parents; they are senseless, faithless, heartless, ruthless. Although they know God's righteous decree that those who do such things deserve death, they not only continue to do these very things but also approve of those who practice them.

Sometimes, I go and get really excited about doing things. Cool things. Adventuresome things. Learning things. You know, things that would make people say, when I died, that I led a good life. Intentionality. Instead of being a lazy slacker. I get really excited about stuff like this. But then, it dies, and I still haven't done anything spectacular, or even started to. It is frustrating. Depressing. I'm excited now. I feel like I'm on the edge of so much. I don't want it to fizzle out without something to show. Maybe you can't live excited all the time. It sucks, but it makes sense. You need the downs to measure the ups, right?

Midterms are in the next week, I found a beautiful girl who said I could keep her, bible college is doing it's job, cause I read the bible and pray sometimes and want to. I might become spiritual yet. That last one might be the most exciting. I'm in a band, and we do stuff sometimes. I'm bad at multitasking, so I just have to take something and run with it. I'm also bad at focusing.

I thought that passage was interesting. That's why it is here.

Ten Minutes

So, I don't got much time, but why not? I wake up early like every morning now. Seven is early, I don't care who you are. Sure, there are earlier times, but I don't think I can do it. I used to be able to. I got sick. And with this paranoia going around, well, it makes me wonder. But I'll be fine. Because I have to be.
You know what else I have to do? Poop load of homework. Like, no wonder I never did it in school. It's tedious and long and unthrilling. And required to pass. But, if I don't do it, I cannot say that I just do what I'm told. And it's fun and easy to say that. So, my brain might explode, but I will have completed hours of boring work. Maybe it isn't even supposed to take hours. Maybe I'm just bad at it.
Who convinced me to go to school?

It's getting colder out. I've busted out my toque. I'll have to upgrade sweaters soon. My beard is thick to protect my face. There are moles about. And helicopter seeds are strewn about the campus. I love those seeds. I wonder if they work when they are wet? Yeah, they are all wet now. It rained last night. So I ate yogurt.

Seven minutes is enough

Your body is a phenominal instrument of science

I made it Bible college. I have a room with three other guys. One of them is an avid tea drinker. One of them is definitely a nerd. And the other one is from newfoundland. They are fun. I don't see them much, but enough. I'm pretty sure I've read more in the last couple weeks than I have over the last year. So. Much. Reading. But it's okay. I don't mind reading.

The people here are really strange, but they are pretty cool too. I told someone the people here were strange, and they said that's why you're there. I didn't think I was this strange. Someone is vacuuming outside my room. Why? I have no idea. We go to Chapel about three times a week. It's kind of ridiculous. I think so anyway.

And, lastly...Actually, I don't think I have anything else to say. Wasn't that exciting? I was mostly just killing time. Suckers

Everything is a Dragon

One weekend, Michael and Elizabeth and Stephanie and I all went to Victoria for the museum. Michael and Elizabeth had already paid to get into the museum and seen it all already, so they didn't really want to again. Stephanie and I went and saw the native exhibit tha was on the third floor. Apparently it is always there. Their artwork...well, I figured most of them looked the same. Like a type of animal. There wasn't much point to this paragraph but to get started, but you don't know that.

Camp was good. It was very different from last year, but different ain't always bad, see? I liked this year better. But it was way more tiring. I became the program assistant somehow. That meant I was up later every night, up early every morning, told the kids where to go, rang bells that needed ringing. They told me I was the fun-maker. There were other people there that I'm sure were more fun. But it was good. We got a bouncy castle. Oh man. I tried doing backflips, because when else can I try a back flip and not really get hurt? I landed on my head a bunch. But sometimes I made it around to my knees.

If you really wanted to know every detail about camp, you'll have to find me, catch me, and grill me. Ready in five minutes. Baha. I played Heather at the chapels. One weekend, Look Out Behind You assembled. We played music alright I guess. Considering we hadn't really played together for a couple months...not bad. Words.

I'm pretty sure I'm diseased and should be sleeping. Camp broke me. I can't sleep in nicely anymore, or stay up late. Hosed. And...I'm definitely not in the same place I was in June. I might even be a different person. And I go to College in days, and really have no idea what I'm doing. I'm sort of hoping that week of sleep comes soon. I think every seventh year is supposed to be a sabbath year, or something like that. I've decided that this is my sabbath year. Not that that will change anything. I'm just tired and wishing.

I went to a concert. It said no drugs or alcohol, but that stuff was defs present. Some of the bands were okay. Others were less likable. It happened in a big dust bowl, so it was very dusty and hot. I got a sweet shirt. The longer I have it, the more I like it. And Thrice played. Mmm. That's enough.

Peacing out

I stole my sister's laptop! Aha! From my brother, funny enough. I'm not terribly fond of lappy keyboards. This one is missing the f key, which weirds me out. But hey, I adventured and want to tell, whether you care or not.

Once upon a time, there was a rock. This rock was called an island by those who 'discovered' it, but it was just a big rock. They convinced me to camp on this. Or maybe I made the suggestion before I saw the 'island'. I liked it though. We needed three trips to get the four of us and all our stuff across in that tiny, deflating dingy, but we made it. THERE WAS A GIANT BIRD!!! Josh and I were first to approach the island, and there was a log/person looking thing on top of where we were supposed to sleep. It was a bird. It was child sized. Maybe childlike. It didn't stick around long enough for us to get accquainted very well.

We made us some cheese quasidillas. Josh was our chef. Did anything exciting happen that night? The sunset was pretty, and there were not any bugs, as far as I could tell. The stars were everywhere! And the phosphoresence was in the water. It was very beautiful. I didn't sleep very well. If I were a writer, I would write about how I was thinking about the stars and phosphoresence and how I revelled in God's creation, or was inspired somehow. I wasn't. I did stare at the stars a while. Watched a satallite. Noticed all my stuff was wet. Brynn said he peed on my pillow, but it had to be more than that. Jon said moisture happens at night. Like it was common knowledge. That I forgot. Not comfortable.

I peed a lot. We figured the tide would be down by morning. It wasn't. I'm going take the credit. When I woke up and the sun was up, I had enough with my wet stuff and bad sleep. Josh was pretty much up. Brynn was the only one who didn't really get up. Josh made us breakfast (whipped, I tell ya. jokes), and we three went for a boat ride. It was about five in the morning. Brynn was up on our return.

Then what? I don't even know. Maybe I drank a coke? Is that note worthy? The tide was going down slow, but still going down. New areas were opening up to be explored. At first, it just allowed us to hop to other rocks without getting wet, but then it got down to sand. Spider crabs, sea annenomies. Where is my spell check? Tiny fish. There were mussels everywhere. I'd say muscles, but...I gotta work on that. And jellyfish. Jellyfish everywhere. I tried to catch one with a spear. Yeah right. The sea life was easily fasinating.

However, Brynn and Josh were more interested in building stuff, and as our ever growing rock had not a single tree, we had to make trips over to the mainland. Or the big island. Full of chinese. They brought us back some wood Matthew and I didn't really want, then told us it was our turn to get some. We lack wood gathering skills. Or tying skills. Water floating skills? There was an octopus stump.

We got some would back, and the natives made a fuss. Matthew left early. We found a skull. Defs not human. I've watched cop shows. I know. It was probs a seal skull. We figured. Brynn the boat around the island by himself. Tres difficult to manouver by oneself. I threw starfish at him. He told me if I hit him, he would be especially upset, and would beat me. I tried getting them into the boat without hitting him. Almost, but he deflected with his paddle.

We packed up, and went home. At some point, I decided I didn't need to have a shirt. Now I have a nice burn. If it doesn't go peeling on me, my farmers tan will be a thing of the past. The three of us were very tired. I went home and lazed around for hours. filled out some important forms. Got jon and tommy to see a movie with me at seven. Except...

Jon's keys vanished. Straight up. We searched all the logical places it could be, then illogical, and still, gone. We looked for over an hour. They were nowhere. He better tell me where he finds them. So that actually didn't happen. I tried to outlast the sun, since I got up when it did, but I didn't sleep very well, and the sun has some crazy endurance. Did not beat the sun. Ugh.

Then, I got a haircut this morning. Ali cut my hair. It is very short. But, I won't have to worry about my hair for a while now. All according to plan. I always tense up when I'm getting a haircut. Haircuts don't care me. It's always some pretty girl cutting my hair though. Crows scare me. I was walking, andsome crow started following me. Whatevs. Caw all you want. Then it swoops past my head. ahahh2qhvahhsdbsdibvhdbjlb. Bit sketched. Not the first time that happened either. I left jon's house. There is a dead bird outside. crow maybe. Another one on the powerlines. Swoops. I snap and point, it backs of. Still, I'm freaked.

Damn crows.

That light looks like a trumpet

I was watching a musical about a villian. We were going to try to recreate it, but I realized my voice doesn't compare to that of whoever I was supposed to play. What gave me the gall to even think that? Sometimes, you just gotta hit your head real hard to come back to your senses. Or step back and think about things a whale. hmm.

You know how guys can not think about stuff? Totally happening right now. I guess that's okay though. The internet won't see me for a whale, and I'm okay with that. I'm almost done that girl book. I like it a bunch. I think I like Africa. Although, right now I'm useless. What do I do? I can play a little music, or play with their children. Children can entertain themselves. The only time they don't is when you give them technology. Who said this was a good idea? And they make better music than I make. Some might say it is just different, but they don't know what they are talking about.

I guess I go to bible college in September, and they will teach me...What do you learn at a bible college? Learn to read the bible? Talk to Jesus? I guess everyone needs Jesus. Maybe they will teach me that better. But I want to help. Talking a bunch about something doesn't help. It's a bit annoying actually. I'd rather know how to build something or fix something. Grow food and useful things like that. Be a doctor. Save lives. Right now...

I was told that some people know exactly what they have to do to get where they want after the tracks of high school end. Where to go, who to talk to. They've got it all worked out. Me? I'm just figured out where I want to go. No idea how to get there. And they don't make maps for this. Not good ones anyway. There's a guy I admire greatly, who says that we have to wait on the Lord. I'm hesitant of christianese, but he said that so far, God has been taking him to good and better places, so why not? Ain't let him down yet. Maybe...

We'll see.

I will talk to other people after this.

Umm so my computer is broken. Pretty much forever. Kyle tried to fix it for about three hours. Knothing. We were going to hang out, but I was a rag doll and the computer was frustrating. It likes to turn itself off whenever it wants. Which is tres often. Not useful. Let's explain why I was a rag doll. Ready?

I have a month left to see everyone/do everything/make sure I got all the things I might need for two and then four and four months of being gone. Maybe longer. Hopefully longer. I don't think I need to live with my parents anymore. but anyway, thursday was the market, but before that I was in vic with josh and chris. Bubble tea is a strange drink, but I find it grows on you. Just not 'tangy'. Yuck. Michael was a model. I witnessed that. And then he and Christine and I tried to do stuff, but it didn't work...maybe? I can't actually remember what I did. We might have ended the night with playing music. I think.

I think we might have played music on friday too. Unless that was at night. Might have been. Nope. I did stuff friday. Believe you me. But Saturday it gets fun. Saturday I got to thrid street cafe bright and early, nine fifteen or something like that. fortyfive. nine forty five. Anyway, got a table around ten, started worrying that maybe breakfast wasn't at ten and I've lost my mind, texted my lost band mates."I've got a table". Brynn was outside and saw that I had a table, found me, and I wasn't worried anymore. Michael was in his truck. And confused. Why did Werner get a table? do we need a table? Where did he a get table? the side of the road? He thought things like that for a whale. Until he realized we were eating breakfast and all that jazz. We went to Brynn's, where the show was to occur. Did occur. Started setting up. Kyle came and helped. Kyle made us sound better. I would say good, but brynn's dad said he couldn't make us sound good. That it was impossible. He might have just been talking about me. Kyle said something about it being nice if we had a table. That made us laugh. A little bit.

showtime came. The audience drifted in like an icebreaking vessel through the arctic. With less power. And slower. English is a funny language. Oh, so we played our pretty tunes, and they clapped. The neighbours didn't come over for a while, but they cheered for us through the trees. Pretty dang sweet. We chilled for much time after. Eventually there were about nine of us. But Michael wanted to eat his birthday pie, and Elizabeth, as the pie maker, wished to see him enjoy it. I keep telling him something is there, but...I also tell him he doesn't have to listen to me in these matters. Where is my experience? The seven remaining went and climbed horth hill. Didn't get home till late. Legs covered in insect bites. Those are the nights that make life worth it. Except for mosquitoes. Birthed in me is a deep hatred for insects. Maybe the world would be hosed without them, but there are so many, I should be able to kill everyone I see. Right?

Ten seemed too early, but I made it to church. Ate breakfast after. Third street again. Some diplomacy at Jon's. I made mistakes. Jon took Iberia from my french grasp. But I'd like to see those English try to recover. Heh heh heh. Ate in the skid. Climbed a tower. Beautiful. I have to do that again before I go. After, we stood and conversed with each other for...who knows? An hour maybe? It started off 'where should we go?', but place didn't really matter. And then, time flies.

Monday wasn't terribly exciting till later. I saw Michael for a couple hours. Then at five a few of us went downtown and played billiards. And assassin? I think that is what it is called. Jon stole the 'candies'. They weren't candies. He didn't mean to. Cactus club. They've got one fancy restroom. There was even a chair. For lounging. Maybe? That part was weird. Came back to skid town, enjoyed the beach, checked out the phosphoresence and then it was tres late, and time to go. I think I made a new friend, but turns out I might never see them again. There's that.

That's enough. It just get's boring again after that. Sort of. I heard 'Look Out Behind You!' is playing at serious coffee at 7pm on the 21st. And on the 26th and the Cronk house. Those are cool things I'll probs attend.

Sometimes...

Also

My house is a sauna. So hot. Sitting here makes me sweat. The air...It's warm like that. You know how, when is a sauna, it gets harder to breath, and even if it didn't, it feels different? As though the air was laced with warm moisture? It feels like that. I was told being in the sauna for a bit and then taking a cold shower was crazy good for your skin. You sweat pretty well, cleaning out the dirt, and then washing it out all nice. Good for the pores.

I am now unemployed. It's great. Sometimes, when I'm walking along, I remember that I'm unemployed, and that it summer time, and I get excited. Right there on the street. Not that that doesn't happen all the time, or like you could tell. Just trust me. Today, I was in Sidney for a couple hours, and... My shirt has a hole in the top, where one of my shoulders are. The sun burnt one of my shoulders through that hole. Isn't that crazy? Some people like this. I think I have to grab someone and jump in the ocean. I would just jump in by my lonesome, but then I would look like a fool. And I ain't no fool. Or maybe...

I imagine myself talking like this to people. How all my words are worth hearing, never mumbled, always confident. They smile and let me finish whatever I'm saying. It's always brilliant and funny. Whatever they say always makes it better. Recently, I realized it isn't like this. In all likelihood, I'll probably be shy or awkward or a jerk. Or mumble. I always know what I am saying, and when you know what you are saying, it doesn't really matter what you sound like. So I really don't know. Bad volume control. In this imagination of mine, the scenes are always different. I talked to a guy I'm seeing over the next two days sometime (ain't fully sure. That's why I was talking with him. Still ain't fully sure.) and pictured myself being funny and impressive, as I always do. Though, I never am. For some reason, he thinks I'm awesome. I haven't the foggiest. I got there and there was this other guy talking about some other thing. The nerve. So I stood and waited until he was gone, but the moment for funny/impressive/imagined me was gone. As usual.

My dad's a pretty funny guy. When I was a kid, I don't think I liked as much as I do now. We were lazy kids. Still are. We need to told, to be yelled, what we should have been doing. We still do. But now, I don't really care how much you yell. If you yell at someone for a while, and they don't care, all you are is tired. Why were you yelling? Anyway, my dad will, when you tell him about some situation (almost anything), he will tell you what he would have done. I would place a stack of money on that is not what he would have done. He's just saying that. I have found myself doing that too. That's what cool, imagined me would have done. We'll call him Wilhelm. For kicks.

Some people told me I walk like my dad. I found that strange. My parents... I watch them. Casually. If they are around. They've been married for twenty something years. It's okay I don't know, because the number changes on saturday. I intend to get married one day. I've been told by a guy or two that I have the gift of celibacy, but I think they were joking. When I get married, I intend it to last a while. Like, forever sounds good. It's interesting to see what one looks like in twenty years. My mother whines a bunch in my opinion. I tell her this, but she doesn't seem to approve. I probably wouldn't either, if my son told me that.

Despite unemployment, I think I have managed to fill up this week with people to see. I should be seeing people, because I don't want to think very much. Thinking gets me in trouble. Makes sad. The idle mind is the devil's playground. I read that in a book today. It made me smile microscopically. I was in that musical. Except, in the book, they said 'workshop' instead of 'playground'.

Hummingbird

Sing With Your Eyes Closed

Tomorrow is my last night. Tonight they gave me off. I worked the last five. Do you think I can sleep? I should be able to. I'm tired. I'm getting sick, so I'm all sore and sickly, snotty nose and all. Yuck. It's a bad time to decide you need company. Not even to talk to. Just to be there.

I have half a mind to walk down to slevin and and hang out with Dan.

I'm reading a book by some lady. I won't tell you what it is, because I am increasingly sure it is a girl book. I can tell you when I am done. Won't let you sway me. In the book, a family(all girls except for the father. A large contributor to my suspicion.) moves to the congo. Their purpose is the salvation of souls. Or his intent. The rest of the family aren't really sure why they are there, and do not seem too thrilled about it either. But anyways.

In the book, they realize Africa ain't nothing like it is over here. Straight up. Life there is different. I know a little bit. I've been there. Not long enough to know, to really know, but long enough to see it is different. Life is survival. Here, life is... I'm not satisfied with what life looks like here. Get a job, work the rest of your life until you think you will have enough money to last you until you die. I know there is more, but that is the part I'm just not satisfied with. I won't follow that. What's money anyway? And...What is life without work? Kind of...slow.

People go strange if you leave them alone to long. Like fruit in the sun. 

I just don't know what life is. What I want it to be. I think my head is done. I can probably sleep now.

I Wonder What He Is Captain Of...

10 hours to go. 21 hours in.

It seems I'm good at making not friends. Wednesday night I worked. 4 in the morning, some dork came in. Wanted me to make a whole pizza for him. Jerk. He only wanted one piece...pizza ain't a crazy fast seller at four in the morning. Nothing is. Coffee and papers might just be the winners. I was sort of crashing. Night shifts don't mix well with me having a life, which I was trying to do at the time. That was probably the hardest, maybe second hardest I've ever crashed. I told that to shut up and get out. Well...first I refuse him for about five minutes, then asked what kind of pizza he wanted. He was still kind of hung up on the 'I can refuse service to whoever I want' bit. It was annoying. I told him to shut up and I'd make him a freaking pizza. You just told me to shut up. I'm leaving. Alright, get out. You just told me to get out. Yup. You don't have to be such a prick. Don't you love drunks? He called half an hour later, still whining about his damn pizza. So I made him one, but he never came. What a jerk.

Last night, another drunk came in. He was being friendly. I find them annoying, but I'd rather friendly over...well, I let him use the washroom (we don't have one at night, by the way. Should have refused him right there.), and he was grateful and left. Came back, got a pizza, made comments about robbing the place, said 2 dollars for pizza is taking all his money (pizza is essential at two thirty in the morning. Frick.). I told him to have a good night. You know, implying his exit. He didn't seem to get it (or like it), so I kept on that track. He said something about bashing my head and , and about how I was going to go home and play video games. Man. I wish I were. And we were friends in the beginning.

It seems I'm getting worse at keeping those. temper temper.

9 and a half hours to go.

An upcoming adventure

Only super nerdy people do stuff like this, but I like challenges. And who cares if I am super nerdy? I don't, so there. We, being me and some other fans, will attempt to recreate a musical from the internet. Crazy huh? Dr. Horrible's sing along blog. If it all falls together, it will be sweet. Unfortunately, I haven't found as much support as I was hoping I would find. That makes it more difficult.

You know in the movies, where you all see them actors being cool and loved by fans who don't really know them? That is their role. Be that guy. The villain. Hero. Singer. Lover. Whatever. They do it, well sometimes, sometimes not, but they don't make the movie happen. You know? Director, camera guys, light guys, ect ect ect. I don't know all the details, but I know it is more than kids pretending to be someone else. I know that. Details details details. It will be crazy amounts of work. But, that's okay. As said, I like challenges.

At the end of this, I will be unemployed. By choice. I won't have enough money. I know that. But I want out. Need out. I can be that man, but I can do better to. I have to. I modelled for a photographer the other day. Maybe I could be a ridiculously good looking male model. If I avoid gasoline fights, I should live a long, blissful life. Realistically, I might kill someone if I worked in a job like that. Do you know me? Does that tell you why?

I could be a rockstar. I'd have to focus a bit, but I could be. Why not? It would be lots of fun. Lots of luck to get in. What's the difference between a park bench and an artist? The park bench can support a family of four. I'd be risking that, but who makes a family at twenty? I joke that my life is over now that I am twenty. Really, I have lots of time left to do fun stuff. Ridiculous, what-the-duece-are-you-doing stuff. Like be a rockstar. Then, in a few years, when I still have nothing, and them secondary educationed kids are done and equipped to get paid big bucks or at least have a plan of some sort, would I regret it? Recently, I've realized I'm not as good at that 'live without regrets' thing as I thought I was. 'You only live once' didn't even cut it. I wasn't thinking. No time for hesitation. Carpe Diem, right? I hesitated.

Or I could be an actor. I don't think I could be, nothing worth getting paid for as is. Enough to have some fun, but nothing to earn a living yet. Practice makes perfect, right? If this reenactment works. Sorry. When this reenactment occurs, I can look at that. Judge off that. Perhaps. I have nothing but fond memories of putting on plays and other such performances. Them planned ones. On the fly, who knows what I'll do. I mean, will happen. So, yeah. I could be famous. Cool eh? Be my friend now. Hahaha.

All that was tangent. Cadence. Word. Aha. The point was, I don't have time now because I work every night, or something like that, and sleep when I am not at work, and then see kids, friends, acquintances, when I should be sleeping and am not. Almost keeps me in that place of tired-enough-that-I-am-still-fun-but-not-dead. Take out work and I'll sleep at night, and have to do anymore. Funny enough, I've found out that no one wants to hang out with you unless you have a job. That isn't what they are thinking, but definitely what happens. In any case involving me. So these projects wil keep me busy. Focused on something healthy. You know?

I wonder if I will ever find someone who takes me seriously in person. I wonder if, when I find this person, I will enjoy them.

Blog about my plane flying adventure.

I flew zero planes. Now and forever. My eye prevents this. Done.

That would be a funny post, eh?

I finished work Sunday morning. Easy Peasy. Holidays are weird. I came home, packed what I thought I needed (I was wrong about almost everything, by the way. I think the only thing I used was my sleeping bag) and was picked up my mr sissons. Got to the airport, waited for the plane. Ate starburst. Matthew made fun of me. I'm not super function after 22 or 23 hours of awakeness. But fun, until I remember how tired I am. Awakeness is one of those drugs I take too much.
We got on the plane. I was supposed to sleep. Oops. We arrived at the other airport in Kelowna. It's weird being so far so fast. They didn't have any buses, so we shuttled into the town. Matthew asked the guy about free campsites. pshh. Matthew. We searched for a tent for a while. A long while. It was about 10 in the morning when we got there. We realized that nothing downtown sold tents. Phooey. I sort of slept at the park for a while. That I'm-pretty-much-asleep-but-am-aware-of-some-things-that-happen-around-me asleep. Till 1:30. Then we found out no movies were playing, and continued the tent quest. Quent test?
We saw a thing, one o' them store overhang things. It said information. We believed it, but it was tres bizarre. It was white, and just a room. With a kitchen. Open front wall. Couches. What is this? We sat in the comfy funiture until a guy came over to see what we were doing. He explained that they are trying to sell suites that look like it did. Without the funiture. We used his washroom and were told to check sportchek in orchard park for a tent. The quest lives on.
We bused over there and asked a guy with cauliflowered ears where their tents were. Nope. He said to try canadian tire. He pointed us in a direction. We walked. And walked. And walked. And walked. Made fun of some signs. Some stores. Sweated profusely. Wished I had somewhere to keep my bag. Walked some more. I hear ladies like sweaty men anyway. Or maybe I just made that up.
Then it looked like residental are only next, so we turned around. Got some powerade so we didn't die of dehydration. It was hot out. The cashier girl told us we were way off. She pointed us in the direction we came. There was much frustration. We drank about half our powerades. Matthew tried to convince me to watch the game. Nope. Press on. The tent quest awaits. We made it back to pretty much where we started. Future shop, Movie theatre, Zellers. Let's try zellers. Could. Not. Find. It. GAHH. We waited at the movie theatre until fourish when our knowledge kelowna friends came to save us. Turns out we would have found Zellers if we walked another minute. But now we are late. Canadian tire in westbank. Got tent. Got to where we had to be. Success. Now for a different game.
It was Lauren's birthday on Saturday. Her party was on Sunday. I don't know anyone in Kelowna really. I've been awake more than 30 hours by now. There were many people to meet. I tried to let my lack of sleep allow me to be more extroverted, but I just got tired. Met a few that I remember though. I sort of wished I brought heather, but considering the tent quest, it was for the best.
After most guests had left, 9 of us went to watch a movie at the house Lauren was house sitting. It was called........... Garden state? I wasn't super fond. and pretty tired. I sat on the floor next to the bed. Lauren and melissa? and Jared went for a walk...they weren't really watching the movie. I wasn't really either. Should've gone. I went to the semi sleep state for a bit. The movie ended about one, and we assembled and walked back to Lauren's house. The house owners would be home soon. We went to the park and set up the two person tent wrong. It stayed up though.
This is very detailed. too detailed. And not at the same time. Cool, huh? 2-7 we slept, Matthew and I, too close together. We got up so early because, I don't think we were supposed to be tenting in the park. Unsetup by 7:30, Found a convience store, got some breakfast/granola bars/juice. Walked, saw some strange animal.Walked back. 8:30. Found some grass. Slept. maybe full. I'm unsure. 10 or 1030 we started up the wrong road (my fault), turned around(also me), took a short cut(Matthew) and continued going the right way(him again). I tried to turn the wrong way, but was corrected. We met Lauren and Grace and drove into town.
We got some pachos. What are they? We didn't know. I was played. I should have seen it coming. If someone tells you pachos have anything to do this chocolate, play along, but it ain't right. good breakfast. BAHAHA. Then we found a gas station. thenn...hmm. Did we go to the park then? I think we did. We were very energetic. Off the wall. We dropped off a music player thing, set off an alarm, and went to grab some Ice cream. Mmm...Ice cream. Enjoyed that on the grass. Mmm...grass. We sat outside a coffee shop for a whale. Went back to the park/beach. Met some other kids. strange kids. They ran into the cold cold water. we sat on the bench. The exciting water runners left, and it was time to go to the airport. Already? yeah. Dang.
we were 4 and we sat around the timmys table. I might have opened myself to the possibility of tonsilitis. I'm told you don't want to share drinks with people who have tonsilitis. Then they had to go and we went through security, and I realized I never told Lauren that I like her. Dang it. Missed an opportunity at the beach. Matthew might say I missed many. I sent a text. Eww Werner what the deuce are you doing? All that for a text? eww.... yup. Then I semi slept until the plane. where it continued. I was pretty grouchy after we passed through security. I have to work soon. Should have slept through this. Instead of this.

EXBELLENT

My life is a gong show. But I wouldn't have it any other way.

Ever been in a wedding? Me neither. until today. It was pretty sweet. I would do it again. It seems to be the right time for everyone to get married. People everywhere will drop anything to come to a wedding. One of those times when all your friends are in the same place. Hopefully. You know how when you are a kid, you are friends with your neighbour's kids and how, as you get older, your bubble expands? It's impossible to bring everyone together. I have a counter strategy, that involves befriending everyone where ever you are. It ain't the same, but it would keep you in good company? I don't know. Also, I am not nearly altruistic enough for that. Was that a word? Altruistic? Either way, it says I spelt it right.

Ever dropped everything, cancelled work, and bought a plane ticket just so you could go see a girl? Logically, it probably isn't too bright, but that's not what I'm known for, and don't fix it if it ain't broken. I also would not have it any other way. Ain't. I think I have watched too much firefly. Ain't is not cool to say, and I ain't no cowboy. Damn.

Night shifts. Graveyard, if you will. Someone came in one night and told me they call them graveyard shifts because they send you to the grave early. Encouraging. Another guy said he was glad he didn't smoke, because shift work takes years off of your life or something. Interesting. I try to function during the day, because hermitdom just is not as fun as community. Funny, that. I'm supposed to be in some kind of garage band and hang out with kids I won't see after June ends. I might. But not much. That time has to get in now. A couple months ago. I've seen other friends try to get it all in a week before they go. pshh. I'll probably do that too, but I don't want to need to. Essentially, I don't sleep. And am really excited/nervousness/tired, perhaps nausious? Like butter over too much bread. And loving it. But...

June, please come soon.

This is one time.

My friend told me to write this. He also told me to be excellent. And make it long. I figure, if I write this, I am excellent. Who could resist? We will see about length.

I'm super excited because tomorrow morning I get into a truck with three other guys and drive for some hours, arriving in port hardy to meet with our cop friend. AND I work tonight. I wouldn't have slept well anyway. Might as well get paid for it. I'm done work at the end of the month. Woot!! This leaves no time to pack, but I can't pack anyway. Like I'll know what I need. Psh.

And June, June is super exciting too. No jobs, epic plans to camp anywhere. Everywhere. A small island unofficially dubbed Porges island. Sidney spit for a birthday party. A concert. I'm going to play music on stage!! Weird huh? Yup. ANNDDD Then I go to Pender island for two months. Rock on. There won't be many from last year, which means it will be different and a little bit sad, but also very exciting, despite that. Details to come later.

I put my life on hold for the last couple days. I needed to. I am not a machine. Breaks are very necessary, so I took one. I should be getting back to completing stuff soon, like applications to camp and letters to friends. Probably something else I'm supposed to do but forgot. I got accepted to Summit. That means I am really for sure peacing in September. That's exciting too. Abbotsford isn't the most exciting I hear, but it isn't my home island, and that is something. I'm kind of a jerk, but I don't think I will miss those who are left behind too much. Sure, I'll miss them, but there ain't no way I'll stay here for them. There is something else out there, and it's mine.

I had something else to say but forgot and ran out of time and have to go. Yup. Peace.

We need not to climb mountaintops.

It's from a dark place that you can look at life and see it as a joke.

I was thinking a little bit about momentum, about how everything is easier once you get started. Things like that. It has always been easier to perform once I'm on the stage. I don't really think things through, and you can't just stand there (although I have done that before, and I can't say I didn't enjoy it) so whatever I think of comes out. Most of the time is it satisfactory. I'm afraid I perform too much though. I'd rather just be with myself sometimes. I find I am very entertaining company. I don't feel like I did something wrong after being with me. There is something unpleasant in the aftermath of other people.

But, I really want to be with them too. Every time it is my choice, even my fault, that I see these other people, these who don't know. I spent an hour just wishing I lived with some guys, just so we could make dinner. Guys collaborating on anything is fantastic. Any task is a puzzle, a challenge, an obstacle that cannot be allowed to remain. We made a fire on the beach in the rain. It hurt to stand too close. Then I thought about how someone would always be there. I think I would be okay with that. I'm decent at ignoring people.

I don't think I can survive the 'real world', whatever that is. Or that maybe I could, but I really don't want to. I don't want to give in to it's demands. From what I've observed, it doesn't seem like a lot of fun. But, I ain't seen much. Barely left my island.

This sandwich has expired.

What Makes a Man?

I've noticed a somewhat disturbing pattern in some of my friendships. You know, the ones worth keeping. It starts off really solid. And the friendship grows and becomes better, and then. Well, it is repulsed. It would not worry me as much were it not a pattern. I can tell you three or five different instances of said occurrence. They are all crazy different people. I am the common denominator. The problem? It makes me think that maybe I should keep to myself better. More. More better? I guess I am just better in small doses. Or maybe I need a psychologist.

"Better to have flown once than to have never flown at all". A good friend of mine said that. Specifically about flying. Would not want to decontextualize it or anything.

It's funny, the stuff a person believes about themselves.

Confusion

I was going to write something crazy profound. You know, like always. But I got distracted and learned that somebody beat me to it. I'm quite excited at the moment. And tired, and confused. These tabs aren't helping. Who invented tabs? fools. This morning, I cut my finger. Maybe? I think something got stuck in it. If so, it is still there. I don't know how it happened. I wasn't there. But then there was blood. And customers. And confusion all on me. There wasn't enough blood to be terrifying, and they didn't make mention of it, so maybe they didn't notice, but I had been up for 33 hours or something, and could figure out why there was blood.

Welcome to my life.

I was going to write something along the lines of life as story, because it is. It wasn't very happy, to be honest. Ended badly. In my mind anyway. But, my favourite author ever has something coming that is far better than anything I could make up on the spot. I was browsing some of his internet dabblings, and was inspired somewhere in there. There is a world, a real world, that really needs saving. I shouldn't even need to ask what I'm doing. And there is so much to do. Too much to do.

I was chatting with a guy. I used to think us humans were kind of... dirty I guess? Not right. Not a thing good inside. I didn't delve too deep into this, I just let it be. I knew I was saying I was terrible too. I didn't think I was, but I had to be. I guess that is a way you could think of it. In Blue like jazz, Don says "something inside me…caused Him to love me." What is the point of saving a world that doesn't have any good in it? Abraham pleaded with God over cities so corrupt that they could only find one righteous person. They got him out, then destroyed it. Anyway, this guy feels that way. He said that he puts all of his trust in that bit, in that hope that we aren't all bad.

I know the feeling will fade again, and I'll be bored working, and wish I wasn't born to work dumb jobs and do stuff everyone else has done for years of years. But right now. Right now, I need some sleep. But in the morning, We can go save the world.

You could save us all

What am I doing?

I've been asked why I have two jobs. I tell them that I don't know. I don't really. I think it was for school or something. Another reason might be that I want to see if I can. Waking up early to jump off a bridge and then working that night with a breakfast meeting the next morning is not a good idea. Working 30 plus hours in a weekend is not a good idea. But I can do it. They brought it, and I conquered.

Hurrah.

I asked some guy if he wanted his two pennies of change. He told me to keep it. But he didn't stop there. He continued, saying that if I saved them all up, by the time I was ninety, and worked there all my life ( at this point I said 'of course') then I would be able to go out and by myself a new bicycle. Then he went out the door. I laughed to myself. I didn't really know what else to do.

Another, more different guy was in last night. He asked me where I got that fabulous head of hair. I assumed it was because he was balding. I told him my mother gave it to me, and I loved it very much. He dwelt on it for a while, then wandered the store for a while. I ignored him and did stuff like I was supposed to. He came over to the hot dogs and started asking about spotted dick, or something like that. I told him we didn't have any. He told me he was only teasing. I knew, and let him in on it. But still he was raving about this dick. I played along. He walked around my store again and came back, telling me about how he was taking a plane the next morning. or something like that. I didn't really hear, but nodded in agreement. It doesn't really matter if I hear them. Nodding is polite? Anyway, when he was finally ready to pay, we did the whole cashier takes his money thing. He asked me if he could take me home with him. I told him that would be fantastic, but I had to stay and work. Not even for a days pay? I'm pretty sure everyone would yell at me if I left. So he left. A few minutes later, the pieces fell together in my head, and I realized his orientation might be a bit different than mine.

Oh dear.

There are some stories. I feel a bit better. But still. What am I doing? If I'm doing this just to see if I can, there is the possibility I can't. I increasingly don't want to. What you do stems from who you are. But...Reading back over the past, I really like my writing, even though I hardly ever like it when I am writing it, and I have to stick to the plan.

What makes someone 'something'?

Chance to explain

I have a plan. A very boring, dull plan, but still, it is a plan. I won't stick to it though. I just have to stop doing things. I can make it through if I only have one or two things to do. easy peasy. But the real plan that I need to happen is me on a vacation.

In my cadre, we are reading a book about some guys take on life. I love it. And even if the others don't, they might be discovering some of my motivations or inspirations or both. Like my dream to be an expert geologist...I mean. Never mind.

Yesterday, I woke up late from a fourteen hour sleep (I always wake up late.) and was still super tired I went to element, but no one was there. I sort of napped at the church for a while. sort of. eventually, it is eleven and I am sleeping. Then it is two thirty and I am awake. And three thirty finds me still awake. I refuse insomnia. Straight up. But, an hour and still nothing, so I did some things for another hour. like eat pound cake and drink chocolate milk. Four thirty I was sleeping again, six my alarm went off. seven I woke up late. again. I was supposed to be at work or something. I was ten minutes late or something. I'm late for almost every morning shift. I was still tired though. I described it to a couple people as being jet lagged, but I didn't get to go anywhere. What day is it? Forty something days left.

But I go bungee jumping in a few days. There are cooler things, but not right now.

The elephant

I have a friend who describes how her brains works as something like standing beside a train that is going full speed, and she sees all these images and ideas and thoughts passing by as quickly as a train, and she just picks one at random and speaks it. That's kind of what I do here.

I don't think I have ever let myself get to this sorry a state before. I've worked a few nights in a row now. The weekend I have only had naps, and Haven't mustered much better since. My body is not accustomed to sleeping enough. Which is great. Four or five hours, and then I'm up. 8 hours is such a waste anyway. Eventually, I just won't sleep, and will have excessive amounts of time on my hands. If I thought my body could take what it is taking now. I was playing some game this morning (you know, when I should have been sleeping) and I would fall asleep whenever I closed my eyes. I got my nap in, and that kept me going for a while, but then... Who told me I could do this? That I wanted to?

I would sleep more, but I need more hours. I want to do things. I want to learn to drive. Play music well. Make that stuff I got worth while. Be a godly man. Clean my perpetually unclean house. Keep my friends. They aren't easy to keep when you can't see them often. These are mostly time management problems. I think. But if not sleeping can correct my lack of organization...

I pick dates about a week away from whenever I am, and that wil be when things get better. Life will be what I want it to be. I just have to wait. I don't think that is true though. Time for a different approach. Yeah.

Yeah.

Nutmeg

Most of the time I pass up sleeping because I have something to write here. But this time, I figured I should be sleeping, but I'm not for some reason. So I'm don't have any point in this. Sometimes I try, but I'm not sharp enough. So I will just write to you.

I've been working too much. Today was beautiful. Is beautiful. If the weather was like this everyday, I can't tell you how much I would explode with joy. I like days as pretty as this one. And summertime. And having time to chill, but not incapable of making stuff happen. Finishing tasks and such. And this guy who is singing to me now. And Don. I need to meet Don. I also like adventures.

But, if everyday was like today, weatherwise, I wouldn't have known anything else. Anything to make me grateful for this. If I didn't work like a bee, I wouldn't appreciate time off so much. I've been there, and I didn't.

Baha. I can't get over the weather. It's so relaxing. Slow sunsets, the smell of barbeque. I told Michael that I should run off and join some commune, where I don't need to work. He didn't seem approving. Probably because I told him there would be drugs. And that it was a hippie commune. They do drugs, right?

Don said something about God speaking earth, but us finishing his sentence, resulting in how things are now. No time to be fancy. Maybe things could be different. They were meant to be. But the kings like how it is. What can the pawns do?

I'm not making sense.

Run like a Coward

So, I was at work (I live at work) and was rather grumpy because I couldn't get anything done. I know I only have a job because of customers, but it doesn't matter how much they like me. It matters how much I get done, and how well I do it. And the next person is somewhat hosed when the person before them is behind. That's most of my drive. Getting other people hosed isn't cool in real life. Blocked goals, leading to anger, or something like that.

I was cleaning the oven, which I'm alright at by now. I don't have to think about it, so I think about other things. Like how I am going to be adventuring in June, and how I'm going bungee jumping soon, and about some sweet expensive stuff (not really expensive for what they were. Fantastic deals, in my somewhat unprofessional opinion, but someone more qualified and sales-esk said so. Just expensive for my budget of do-not-spend-money-you-fool.) that I love. About, maybe, skydiving. Sky diving is way cooler. Just ask anyone.

I was speaking with Laura about how cool sky diving is. And expensive. She was saying that the first time you go, you are strapped to a professional, just in case. We joked about him cutting you lose when things went wrong. It was funny. I still think it is. I imagined myself being cut lose, and just falling. Nothing you could do. Or maybe there is. Sky diving would be an easy way to die. It got me thinking to how someone would live after such an experience. At least, in the immediate time after. Life would be a gift. Beautiful. Every decent opportunity that came, taken. I decided I want to live like that, so I really have to jump off something. Or maybe I could just start now. Live like there is no tomorrow.

Once again, another not too new thought with Werner, while he should have been sleeping. It seemed profound at 3 in the morning though.

Something Quiet

I was talking with Matthew last night in his car while I should have been sleeping. I should always be sleeping, by the way. Even now. We talk about everything. I'm thrilled I have a friend this happens with. I'm excellent at staying on topic. Maybe a new paragraph would help?

We talked a bit about one of our genius friends that we both highly respect. Like, he hasn't been to university but can aid university students with their high end course material. Genius. And modest too. You would never catch him saying this. Unless he was joking. But he doesn't have to. But even with all that, he doesn't have those dumb papers that say you spent a million dollars on schooling to get there. And those papers are crazy useful, I would think. And he may not get them. Tests are kind of scary. I hope he braves it though.

We talked about crowds a bit. We had experienced one recently. He didn't like them much, but I really did. They are fantastic. Every time I see them I am reminded of how much I miss them. I barely even know some of them. They just seem stuck in something dead. In something that doesn't go anywhere. Which is fine. I just don't want to be stuck anymore. I don't want to be dead, breathing. It would be sweet to take them somewhere alive. With life. Somewhere meaningful.

I thought about these as we spoke. About how dearly I love these guys. How I wish I could help. How can I? Do they need help? Could I, even if I knew?

Hi from Arizona.

I went on a pretty sweet trip. Michael and I drove up to Salmon arm. Or Enderby. Or Grinrod. Not entirely sure, but that area. We found Arizona on the way. We saw a tumbleweed. We felt a bit like cowboys. We got there and made cookies and fit. It was pretty sweet. We went bowling, saw the wharf, which is almost exactly like the pier, but for a lake, and some of the lake was frozen. The whole place was beautiful. We left too soon.

We drove to Kelowna and found a thrift store beside a music store, and then we went to Westbank and found a music store beside a thift store. I found a sweet scarf. And some goblets. And it was really sunny. Lovely. We went to a coffee shop and met Lauren there, and some of her friends. Michael met an old friend again. It was unexpected and quite triumphant, but I'm sure he would rather tell you.

Then we blitzed it down to Abbotsford, only getting sort of lost once. Maybe twice. Mike made us some pasta. It was definitely something. We had a brunchy kind of thing with Kerstyn. Walked some trail that wasn't too exciting. There was much stick and pinecone tossing. Mike showed us something he was building with another guy. It looks pretty sweet. I'm at that college in September, probably.

We got on the ferry. Work schedualed me for five, even though I asked for that day off many times. I was on the five o clock ferry. It did not end the trip off nicely. I was enraged. But ferry rides are pretty long. I calmed down. I was very tired.

I asked Michael what life was about. He started talking about something. He asked what I meant. I didn't know. I don't know. I mumbled something about the stars. He didn't hear. I don't know. We walked up to the top of the ferry and stared at the island specaled waters. It was quiet. Quite. So, something about the stars? The stars seem to say that life isn't what it is. The stars were beautiful every night. The sky blacker, the stars brighter. Mountains everywhere. Covered in snow. Michael talked about how we are fallen and the stars are just far enough away that they didn't get tainted by our mistake. How they know what they are supposed to be. They are what they are supposed to be. And how we aren't. What are we supposed to be? It was really lovely.

I am not okay with where I am now anymore. And not even sure I want to go where I am going. But it is somewhere, and I will not be stagnant.

Ponds

I shouldn't do this. But, why not? It proves my point, of sort.

I've decided a couple things that apply to everyone. That we are all absurd, and until we understand this, we are all jerks. It's kind of like sheep.

At any job I work, I am forced into contact with humans. Or they are forced into contact with me. People who would not dream of talking to me. Mothers, mechanics, seniors, forty year old men, children. Pretty much anyone. Everyone. There's one guy, he is friendly enough, but kind of weird. He comes often. In my uniform he will talk to me about anything. Everything. But on the street, he will cross the road to avoid walking by me. These strange people are subjected to me, whoever I am. If I'm a loud philippino lady or a girl who doesn't smile or a very strange lady. It doesn't matter. They must endure me. And I them. And through all this, I must say that people are tres bizarre.

It's scary how individualistic we are. It's scary that helping people who need help is out of the ordinary. That strangers are people to be afraid of, even though they are just like you. Mostly.

If this didn't connect, the first sentence is true.

Where the Water Meets the Sky

I'm reading a book about...well, I'm not entirely sure. I'm halfway through. It seems to be about classy society, but if I were a bit more attentive, I might notice something more. I'm starting to notice that life is pretty crazy. like high class. just...  I don't expect to make sense.

There are two cats. We will call one diabetes. The other we can call marble. Diabetes is why I am here. Marble is scared of people. Diabetes is pretty friendly, and lazy like all cats are. Diabetes takes a bit more effort to earn her love, but it is definitely worth it. Plus, less gross things appear for me to clean up. But, once she loves you, she demands your love. It's a bit consuming. It's kind of cool/creepy coming home to the glowing eyes of expectant cats though.

Stacy and I have been hanging out more. Stacy is my bass. She is pretty heavy, but she is beautiful, and so worth it. I told my friend I had to put her on a diet. He agreed. I told another friend. "Werner, I don't know how to tell you this... but Stacy wouldn't be helped by a diet. She wouldn't loss any weight if you fed her. She doesn't eat food. I hope you haven't been trying to feed her. She isn't a real person." It made me chuckle. Chortle. Laugh out loud.

I have two jobs now. Three if you include my cat companions, and four if you include my youth leadership role. I don't see a lot of friends anymore. Which is okay. I read books I don't understand about high society while listening to blindside and drinking coke. It almost makes hanging out with people I know a little more entertaining. Like I forget what is acceptable. But not. I can't explain it nicely. I become a little bit more fun in my mind. I don't know about anyone else. Sometimes, I'm sure I wouldn't think very highly of me if I weren't me, but people don't close doors on my face so I can't be that bad. In fact, someone even invited me to something! It seems to be one of the rarer things that happen to me, so although I was hesitant, and supposed to be completing some duty somewhere else, I accepted. My head still hurts.

The more intimate I become with Stacy, the more I wonder if that's a little bit how it works with God. I can know of scales and triads and relative minors, but what good is that without the intimacy? the practice? Head knowledge doesn't help your fingers much. I've never been able to do that dumb vulcan sign thing with my hand, and it was frustrating, but unimportant, so I dind't care. It seems more crucial now, if only a little bit. Elijah said that if you didn't find reading the bible exciting, if it wasn't something you wanted to do, you need a relationship with Jesus. Or something along those lines. I'm terrible at verbatim. It's cool and sad that Jesus is in a book. I'm told he is real too, and believe it, but the bible is where you find him. Books seem more like where you get the information. The head knowledge. Which is fantastic. But theory doesn't make a good musician. My grade 6 band teacher said that it was all about practice. That perfect practice makes perfect. Other stuff like that. By the way, music is not homework ever. Bandteachers, note that. Practicing the bible is an interesting thought. not new. Still interesting. 

That's Enough

Alkaline

I heard of a story where an interviewer was asking a pastor how much Jesus meant to him. The pastor didn't say anything. He just cried. I thought that was beautiful, but kind of weird. Then, one day, I started thinking about how my dad loves me. It made me cry a little. It's really quite wonderful. I've heard Jesus loves better than any man. It doesn't make me cry though. Maybe I don't know it yet.

There was a girl, and when she started praying, it was evident that this was something she was familiar with. Who she was talking to. Honestly, I didn't listen to her prayer much at all. She spoke as someone speaking to someone they could tell anything to. Someone she had spent oodles of time with. 

I kind of sort of want what these people have. This pastor. This girl. It's a bit hard to think that you can find someone inside a book. Isn't there more?

Glass Onion

I really like music. It is pretty wonderful. I got some more of it recently. It is fantastic. I was a bit iffy about some of it, but it all works. Everything fits. Some giant, beautiful puzzle.

I have a plan. It's not good to say this yet, because I came up with it today, and I don't follow through as often as I have plans. This one might be mostly different. I'm working two jobs, and house sitting for some friends. So, virtually three jobs, and no time to spend money. Really. I'm pretty clever, so I will find a way, but I should be spending less. With these ridiculous streams of workaholic income, I'll be full of money and no where to spend it, really, with my lack of time. So, like the plan was a long time ago, I can go to school in September. Like, this was sort of always the plan. This is what I told people when they asked me what I was up to. 'In school?' 'Not yet'. Well, the when isn't so mysterious anymore.

I just need to find some batteries to keep me going.

Not Poetry

On Monday night I hung out with some people. I like them and their group, but I have never really been a part of that group. It just never happened. Anyway, we were at starbucks, and they asked me what I was doing. Where I was going. You know, those questions I don't really have answers to. One of them tried to ask me if I 'dream' without making it sound cheesy, but that didn't work. They told me about how, when they involve themselves in what they know they are going to do, it fills them up. Excites them. They become alive. I have a friend, who wasn't there, but he said that to find your purpose, write a list of potentials on a piece of paper until you find one that makes you cry. Something deeply moving.
So, I am keeping my eyes open, and searching for this thing that makes me cry and gives me life and excites me. At the coffee shop, one of the girls were talking about how they have dreams, but that really they are just God's dream that he is sharing with her. That she can only do so much, so when she identifies it as her dream, she limits how far it can go to how far she can go. Somehow, see yourself as part of God's dream. He can take it farther.
If God has a dream for me to participate in, why doesn't He just give it to me? Once, a guy asked us how the relationship between us and God works. How much do we have to put in? How much does God put in? This didn't seem like a crazily important question those years ago. Now it seems more...relevant. I have to go. God, where is my dream? Your dream? Years ago? I'm getting old. What the deuce.

Progress

Today they made me order things. For a long time. They said 'Werner, we believe in you. You can do this'. I told myself I could do this. Then they gave it to me. It was terribly boring. Whoever did it last left a mess. After a few hours, and then another few hours, I went and made food. It felt really good. I imagined I was one of those gourmet chefs, with all those little tools they use for everything, never still, always adding something to their work of art. I felt like art. Some song from some movie was in my head, so I was humming it. It was all so perfect.

Just like me, they like to be, close to you.

It's strange how time works. I have no understanding of it's true intricacies. Everytime I take a step forward, I wish I was where I came from. I only step where I want to go, but this happens anyway. I thought leaving sandwich artistry was a great idea, but I'm thinking it would have been better if I stayed. Food at slevin? Ridiculous and stupid. Now it is some magical art form, some mystical dance I perform for an audience unaware.

I want to go forward. Somewhere. I really do. But... What if I'm going the wrong way?

Along came a Spider

I've been thinking a little bit. Only a little bit. Here are some of these thinks.

Well this one is a conclusion. I now know why driving drunk and driving sleep deprived both fall under impaired driving.

Why haven't I eaten that chocolate I got for Christmas yet?

Why did I ask for slippers?

Ahem. Remember that book? It came up in those thinks. I am having trouble expressing what I want to, so I am going to pretend I am someone else, asking me questions. So, how is that book coming? Well, I don't really think it is much of one. What? Why is that? Calling it a book right now would be like calling a pile of sticks a house. You could make something out of it. You could make anything out of it. That needs planning. 'Make a book' is almost vague enough to make it work. I am just realizing how raw it all is. How do babies grow out of eggs?

Life seems simpler when it doesn't matter where you land. High is just as good as low. You've got bets on black and red. You cannot lose, so relax. It's okay. Just let go.

I have a friend who writes. He recently wrote about how who you are trumps what you do. I've have had these thoughts come through this mess before, but he comes from a place where he knows who he is, or at least met together a few times. Where whatever he does cannot take away from that. My base looked a bit more like, I don't really think I know me, and now what I do won't help me or anyone else find out who that boy is. It was frustrating. I'm not sure where I am coming from now, or how I take that now. I'm not overly concerned.

It is funny, the things that change how you see things. Have you ever played starcraft? I live to serve.