Kinda Happier. Not Really

I felt excited the other day. An unfamiliar yet familiar feeling. Like, I actually smiled genuine.

It was for a new story idea. The thought of writing something grand. The challenge of it: it's gonna be a task. 

Unfortunately there aren't any coffee shops available to start the deliciously agonizing process of an outline. Only my desk at home. I'm bored just thinking about it. 

I will start (I'm nodding), for sure. This week. Surrounded by snacks and beverages. A movie, or two, maybe three, in the background, so when looking up from the blank sheet my eyes will not drop in despair. 

unrelated:

I sometimes venture to the mall for a bit of sad dreary excitement, and see people carrying bundles of new clothes. Hmmm, where in the world are they going to show them off... I spoke about this with a few friends, and they too are confused. They also have seen this in wonderment.    

I so want to be optimistic. But when you're informed, have been informed for many years, and begin to see the drawing of those informed words come to life, with what sounds like a threat, after threat, able to see parts of tomorrow moving quickly forward... I can only exhale, be silent, and look to God.

It's like what Lyn Lehaz said, or tried to say in so few words, actually, she couldn't find the words... Yeah, girl, I get it. I get it. You can't utter, out loud, what's in your spirit, because it's hard to face. Grief is never easy to express. 

For years I worked on and off in bookstore/s, and people would search for books about grief. To help them with words of encouragement for themselves or others. And watching, listening to Lyn, what she couldn't find words to describe is mostly due to grief. When my grief is that point, feels a bit bottomless, I can only ramble incoherent sounds to God, knowing that he will understand. And he does. 

Okay, back to writing.  

I will write the outline, and eventually the script. Just to do it. I will still encourage my friends, with every hope and dream they have, because I love them. My grief will not flood them.

oh snap. I said this one will be happier. Okay. The next one. Promise.  

My My Mire

Watching the water helps some. I'll sit with a book and pay no attention to the time. I can feel the sun bleed strong on the skin, and in a moment the burn is quenched by the cool air wafting off the lake. 

Like, I said. This helps, a little.

Looking beyond this moment to tomorrow, the pages are stark white. Not even a smudge or a line to tease me. There's nothing, and I can't fathom a thought. Like, kerosene, it only adds to the fire plaguing my mind. The thoughts and hopes of yesterday burn bright.  

I've been searching for solace, something tangible. In my search of familiarity, I've veered back to a time when I was more innocent. The possibilities -limitless. I never feared failure, not once, I only feared never trying, despite obstacles and impossibilities. The challenges only sweetened the reward.

I'm far from finding that innocent girl. 

Knowledge can bring a wealth of loneliness. Loneliness of thought and truth. It's a burden. It feels like a burden. I'm making efforts to look away, to set my eyes on frivolity and careless images. I need to do this for a time.

This post reads a bit sad, I know. It's not meant to be.   

Recently I heard droplets of what I initially feared for someone I think so well of. My senses became heightened when hearing and seeing the reality, and a sigh fell off my lips. It appeared unnatural. But I'm not the storyteller, only an observer. And I left the unsightly image for a time, but it has reappeared, and with it many strange and curious words of concern. And I don't have much brain capacity to dwell on rumors. But it was a concern before, and knowing the darkness of what could be, I asked God for confirmation, which I don't ask for often. 

I asked that if true that a bird would shit on my car. And when I went to drive today, I saw two very large splats of poo on the windshield. Coincidence? I dunno. I'm gonna ask again. Than again, it's not often that a bird shits on your car, let along twice and never so splatty.

Keep you vaguely posted on that one.

You see, if there's one thing I despise most, it's control. To have a hand on someone or something, all for selfish gain (this has many branches). One must exercise great wisdom when placing that kind of spell, and it is a spell. The backfire will never allow a peaceful nights rest. And without rest the body will decay from the inside out. And IT will come for its return (fill in the blank: wealth, health, kin), perhaps not today, but in good time.  

Yeah, this post is a bit grim. I will try to write a more frivolous one next. 

A Secret

It's taking a while to write this... weeks, maybe more. The info coming in keeps changing, but the end result is the same. I've also been incredibly grieved at where humanity is heading.


So, in January, the world watched Wuhan fall to its knees. I got this immediate check in my spirit that something irreversible was happening. Fingers started to blame, and they haven't stopped. What matters now, in my opinion, is the end game.  

I knew industries would be touched, but not to this level? No. And this tsunami doesn't look to be ending. 

We all woke to a new day that quickly turned twilight, our vision barely adjusting to the dark. And yet there, in the far distance, the faint gallop of A Death Rider strides, whispering its ill-gotten plan. Some were well-aware of its mission (exhale), but never to this. It's rather brilliant. 

That A WEE little cold/flu can decimate the entire globe. The ENTIRE globe. The entire GLOBE.

But we're safe, just stay inside. Save all the hugs for tomorrow. Be patient. What's another month? 

"Don't leave the house" the parrots squawk in a sick serenade. Some with guns drawn.    

This unquestioned obedience frightens me. Who exactly is calling the shots? I can't point to an exact target, and there are names swirling, but I doubt they are the sole culprit. No, I don't think we've seen their true faces yet.  

So what do "they" want? 

It's definitely not money, they have all the money they want. That digital push button is limitless. But your ability to make money, and survive? Oh yeah, they want that. Independence scares the shit out of them. 

You cannot control what does not need you. 

They want you to beg, eventually, for money, to live, to eat, to return to a "new 
normal". Whatever the f**k that means. Whoever came up with that should be shot. 

And we can only get back to this "new normal" with a global shot.  I know so many people that are waiting for it, pleading, oblivious to what it will rob from them. It's ironic.

And Bill Gates with his invisible handlers?

It's a bit too easy. That patents and plans are all on the table for the world to see. That people are incensed, demanding the head of BG on a stake. I'm right with them, too, but I'm also watching and listening. It's very "on the nose", isn't it? Too easy to point out. And this reaction of many is to be expected. 

Now, is there a vaccine? For sure. With a chip? Oh, yeah, we've been told that its in the pipe for some time. But from this man?

Now, this is just me. My thoughts:

With so much of the world informed of the chip, this DNA changing chip, where payment in crypto$$ will be allotted (cause cash will be gone, debts gone, currency gone), why/who would be daft enough to run to the head of the line, besides the stubbornly uninformed? No one. 

I think Gates is a well-crafted (puppet), a distraction, and will be easily tossed to the side. Until the true "thing", I don't know what to call it, yet, arrives. The world will be excited with open arms, delighted to be saved. Sooo many people want Gates dead, sooo many are fully aware of the chipping plan - it's no secret. And that's what bugs me.  

It's no secret. 

If the ultimate plandemic is about control, what better way than to believe that you caused the tide to turn. You brought Goliath down (us collectively). My fear is that the Goliath behind "Gates" will appear harmless, but will continue the plan forward, with our consent.  

keep you posted. 

The Love Crap

Forgive me if this post is everywhere. I'm purging.


Years ago I worked for this dating coach who also had and still does have a popular dating/advice channel on Youtube, mainly catering to teens. It was nice for a time, but I needed to move on. It had nothing to do with her, she was and still is lovely.

Anyway, upon assisting her with content for an upcoming post I viewed lots of dating man-woman advice channels, and was floored, and I'm still floored at all the CRAP out there. Mainly men advising women how women should behave:

How to best dress and be confident
How to be emotionally assertive
How they like and want to be touched

Do all this and you'll snag a man!

And don't even get me started on the "Does he like me" signs.

I think messages and advice like this, from men especially, murks up how women might view themselves, and how people view basic normal everyday interactions between men and women. I'll use men and women because this is who these videos are geared to: Women Seeking Men.

The ever faithful quote:

"Men overestimate interest and women underestimate interest" alone blurs so much of the insight and information out there.

I have a friend N. She's beautiful, laughs easy and can talk up just about anyone. I'm the same, to a point. She has a common everyday issue, which is the above mentioned. I also have been very misunderstood. 

You see, people are mostly different. We all try to follow a certain set of societal rules but pending what you saw, heard or were spoon-fed, and pending your own fears, insecurities, baggage and scars, it will never be a one-size fits all love connection. 

So, back to men giving advice to women on how to be a woman, and the over estimate interest thing; I reel, and I mean stupendously reel at what most women face daily. Ask them, women, if they have ever been treated unfairly, or been misread for simply being a kind, warm, friendly human being. 

Someone should inform men as well as the women they date:

Looking at you or in your direction does not secretly imply interest.
Touching my hair is not flirting. Women always touch their hair.
Laughing at something you said? Maybe you actually said something funny.
Touching your arm.... well, some people are just naturally touchy.
Asking you about your life? Making polite conversation is just information.

It's bothersome the number of times women will hold their man close, or the razor eyes that come your way just because your in direct eye line. Again, this is a very common occurrence for all women. 

And to all the man-babies out there with a dagger in their heart because a woman doesn't mirror your affection? It's frightening. 

So how do you know (for sure) if someone likes you? Because the examples I've given above are what most "relationship experts" will testify that "YES!!" they're interested. 

Honestly, the best and only way to know is to ask them out. Or did they ask you out? On a date. Not dutch. The man will and must pursue what they want. And if a man can't even cough up the words to ask a women out on a coffee date... well, that's another page of writing to go through.

Women want men that are pursuant. Men often pursue what they want. Even a shy guy will try to share a few words and geek out a smile. We smile at what interests us, right? Like can you hold back a smile after seeing a gorgeous car, or handbag?

And let's not forget asexuals and demisexuals. You probably know a handful of these people. You might even be crushing on one, or a few, and they will never know it.  

That's it.

Too Nice. Yeah.

I'm a bit too nice. It's the flaw in me. I try to see the good in people, catching red flags, until the ugly spills out. After the stink, I'm gone. 

A smile can cover up sooo much, right? But in time the true intention will show itself. It's exhausting to keep up a lie. That's another thing about me... I'm a terrible liar. 

I write fiction, lots of it. Dialogue after dialogue, word after word of many conjured truths, and it's all a lie that my imagination drums out. But my characters, they are true, or as true as I try to make them, as honest as I try to make them. I never judge them. I just allow them to be, and then they start telling me who they are and how they feel, and sometimes where they want to go next.   

side note:

It's been SUPER long since I've posted. Sometimes, most of the time, I don't wanna share what isn't worth sharing, like, nothing has moved me to share my inner thoughts. I've just been on this strange flatline. Not dead, but just semi-alive, which is worse than dead. 

Update: I've been working in film, on sets, meeting it all: the good, the terrible, and the straight up "get professional help, like, therapy. or maybe you need a long vacation...like, find who you are all over again."

I'm not sure how long I'm gonna stay in this department... it's taxing on varied levels. Thankfully my writing is going well, which is my saving grace, my sanity. It gets lonely when you're too exhausted to socialize and be human, which may explain why some people in this business are for lack of a better word: unhappy.

But I will share about this one person. Ouuuu, this person is a bully, cruddy and manipulative. I have to work with them for a few days, and it will be the last I ever agree to ever work with them again. You see, I hate LIARS. I just do. I make no room for them. I tried to see the good in this person, even spoke well of them, because until I've experienced what many have described, I try to not let the words of others become my truth. It's their truth, not mine. 

So, yeah. Now it's my truth, and I will share it with people who might benefit from my truth. Like I always say to my peers: sharing is caring.

And now the Up. I have met some awesome, good-hearted people in this business. Like, straight up decent. It's these people I hope to grow with, and see them become the person they hope to be in this "industry".

Until I have life figured out (sorry, pausing for a laugh), I will work. And I will write. It'll be cool. Awesome and amazing. 

Thanks for reading

XX

Battlefield

Like the sound of a steed galloping in the distance. Like a dreamer about to wake from deep sleep, something approaches. 

Pages have been written about this day. Endless songs played and replayed. Catch breath, because something approaches. 

side note: have you ever sat beside an octopus? It ain't pretty. It's also not so pretty to be spoken to in this way... like I'm void of brains. A half-wit. A shell. Fucking offensive. 

When I was young I made this promise. No green light. No go. ...Is the light soon turning green... I thought this while on the subway, commuting to work. It was early, or some time of day, but it crossed my mind. And this thought NEVER crosses my mind. 

I'll keep you posted.

Yeah... The quality has been bad. More insincere than bad. More dishonest than insincere. Honor and Valor have gone off the trails, afraid to be upright, to be what it should be. This saddens me. 

... I'll keep you posted. 

Every Word Counts

Now, I've never argued with Stupid, like, what's the point. But I'm killer baffled. Like, half laughing and half mortified. 

Offended? No. Kinda pissed, pissed off, like really pissed? Fuck yeah.

Long ago, a friend, Albert, once advised me "choose your battles wisely". He shared this at the height of my pissed-off ness. I didn't care for his advice, at first, I was actually offended. Like, can't he see the injustice? Doesn't he care? But chewing on it, while grrr'ing and snarling, re-playing the dreaded scenario... He was right. 

So, fine. Exhale. Not worth my time.

Just recently, a few days ago, a Grrrr scenario went down. Like, two Grrrr incidents in the same day. 

At first I wondered if it was a generational thing... but it's not. It's a people thing. Maybe a bit of a generational thing. 

I was working on set, and while waiting for the day to start, people start shooting the breeze. I won't share specifics, but these two young lads spoke to me in this way as if I wasn't listening, like when you're talking about someone as soon as they leave the room, in a snide way. It felt like high school, and it's possible they just graduated from high school within the last five years.

"Why are they still accepting..."
"Long sleeves, again?" 

It's not what they said, but how they said it. It's all about intention. They said it to be outright mean, they wanted me to hear it. Or maybe we just live in a culture where people have no freaking clue how they sound because we've become so detached, or self-imperial, or just assholes. Take your pick.

I asked a few friends, is this normal now? To speak to people in such a way? I've never come across it, but my cross section of friends and acquaintances are your everyday, work hard, non asshole people. 

Everyone said, "Not normal". Another friend surmised "millennials". I guess they were of that age group, maybe? But mostly, idk? I'd love to blanket it and say, "yeah, millennials" but I think it's more far reaching.

I think people are more jerky nowadays. Rude. Self-important in their fiercely contained, well-managed and driven Instagram, selfie world. Too quick to judge, to toss to the side, and gossip, which has become a cultural norm. It's frightening. We've become this overly obsessed Tear-Down culture. The ultimate self-ruling judge. 

My crown is bigger than yours, so fuck off! 

I blame Twitter, the comments link to any article, boredom, and sheer ignorance to what goes on outside of your backyard: geopolitics and technology. If you were truly informed about the happenings of the rest of the world, like really informed without feeling informed by just reading a mere new headline, than this ambush to tear down strangers would become meaningless. Like, void of reason.

So. How should I end this...

For any jerks out there or loose lipped assholes. Before you drop the mic, ready to give it to someone, pretend that you're standing in front of a mirror. And let it rip, don't hold back. Go off!! And then keep going, and going, and going. Don't stop until you realize that words matter, that every word counts. And cuts.

Choose to be good.

The Interlude

Tangled roots. Binds. Cords. The cage. 

Certain words can break such devices. And very few will discern this.  



I'm working on a new script. It's taking a killer long time. I want it to be savage, as nature is savage. I want the reader to be uncomfortable and question what they feel and believe. I want it to be close to the first nature. And I don't want to deceive the reader, but be honest, which means... it's not easy to put it on paper. 

I will procrastinate. Later, I'll finish that part later, I say. I don't have the energy. Using your brain takes energy. And I rather think of blank half the time. It's very relaxing to think of blank.

This script may also be complete shit. Only time will tell.

I've not written this blog for x days due to extreme misstep, confusion, and complete boredom. Mind you nothing much has changed. The only thing that has changed is I have a somewhat less vague idea where I want to step next. It's a relief yet the waiting is maddening. And excess coffee only makes the wait more jittery.

ankle update: 99.9% healed. Not at a 100 yet. Possibly never. 

  

Wanting...

the right road.

I was speaking with a friend the other day, I haven't seen them for years. My friend shared with me the grief of finding their way in life and the time it's taking to get from point A to point ... somewhere else.

I feel for my friend, and I know exactly how they feel. It's not easy to be honest with yourself, especially when living in a world that points fingers and gets judgy. And we live in a very judgy world.

I personally couldn't give a shit what people think, and believe me, it's not easy getting to this place. But one thing I don't abide is when perceptions and untruths roll off the tongues of the misinformed:  people who are gossipy and stupid, maiming a persons life or character. I always say, if you can't say it to their face, just shut the fuck up.

And right now, at this time, which is 7AM in the morning, I'm truly unsatisfied with the road I'm on. It's a choking feeling yet I have no idea where to walk next. What I do know is that I HATE being told what to wear, and my current job has this particular company that wants to outfit us in a very popular brand. My colleagues are psyched, whooo, free stuff. Me? I'm utterly sickened. I'm very anti-brand, except for Chucks, I love my Chucks.

But about wanting...

I do know that I want to help people, I love people, as broken and messed-up as we are. Works in progress I always say, we are works in progress, or at least I hope we are. Until then (a window creaking open) I will hold my head up, press on, and try to be thankful for what I do have: healthy family, a roof over my head, intermittent/bouts of peace, coffee and hope. Oh, and God. I have God.

... I didn't mention friends. That was not by accident. It's really hard to find true friends. That's another blog, for another day. Or maybe not.

This is Home

Have you see it yet?

The mass wall of people. 

It's getting close to the season... or perhaps we're already in it - The jangle of repeat Christmas music, wreaths of varied design, and the endless string of twinkly lights. It's an annoying reminder that shopping will be expected. 

I was out last night with a few co-workers, watching fireworks under a grey clouded sky mixed with spats of rain. The show lasted for 4 minutes, maybe 5. It amazes me that people will huddle close with strangers in hopes to gaze at a man-made wonder. C and I got separated from our group, and when trying to maneuver through the sardine madness, we ended up in a parking garage trying to find a way above ground. 

What leads my heart to write this is not because of last night, or the frenzied crowd of Black Friday shoppers; it's more for the silence of the invisible: the folks that find a spot on the pavement, sitting on cardboard carpet, watching a sea of legs rush by. It's easy not to notice them. I wish I could give them all a gift, like a new start. Who couldn't use a new start. 

I have a home, and a bed, heat to keep me warm at night, and food in the fridge. I have family, cousins (some near, most far away), and a few good friends. I don't need a whole lot to feel content. I also don't know otherwise (pavement livin'), and hope I never see such a day.

But people on the street: kids, adults, seniors. I can't imagine their everyday. No bed to call their own. No heat to keep them warm at night. No fridge, and sometimes no food. 

A week or so ago I was getting to work, pacing quickly up the escalator. It was morning, and rush hour was at its peak. I saw this old man laying on the floor in the subway station, laying like he had collapsed from exhaustion. His hair looked like it hadn't been washed for who knows how long, it was stringy and clung to his face. His eyes half-closed. People rushed passed him, leaving him room. I gave him some money, not much, and he thanked me in a slur of words. I went on, looking back while walking away. I wanted to cry (I did, a bit. Crying now as I write). Where is his family...does he have one? Do they care? 

I saw him a week later laying outside on a heating grate. 

No one should live like this, especially in Canada. Everyone should have a safe place to call home.