thought closet

fix your thought closet
some hangers i will not reveal

yesterday i lent you a green one
its shoulders bent on the ends
plastic ones bother me, the
curled head juts out, with
the eyes of a mother.
she looks for laundry.

i look for a jacket to hide
my feelings. neither of us win.

the cupboard will outlive us.
heavy sweaters
pressed t-shirts
and a lego man
are all shards of stories.

the closet remembers, and
creaks when it closes.




Canadian nuances, Rantings, Uncategorized

Canadian nuances – Part 6: Wading through sludge

I spent my New Year’s Eve in an empty house. The warm kiss of sherry coating my lungs, and the gentle sigh of a dog narrating my thoughts. It was lonely, but perfect. Quiet moments give us time to reflect. On everything, really.

I babbled to a few people on Facebook, my thumbs thundering against the glass face of my phone. I checked the time 23:34…shit, time to leave. I threw on my headphones, slung my bottle of sherry back into my bag, began my ascent through the ice and sludge. The succulent anger of Slipknot thundering threw me.

I approach the SkyTrain. Reach for my wallet. Seconds after my hand collides with its porous body, my eyes dart to the sticker adjacent to the turnstiles Free Ride on New Year’s Eve. 8 P.M. until 5 A.M. A smile creeps over me. “Thank you Canada,” I mutter to myself.

I get off at my station. A few of my heavy metal anthems are now slithering across my playlist. I start headbanging and beating drums like invisible ghosts in the air. Somehow this doesn’t seem like enough. I kick up a bit of snow and do an Irish jig in the middle of the street. (It’s like a version of Riverdance you should never watch. Trust me.) A thought came to me this morning as I began etching out the events of last night. I think I’ve fallen in love with this country. Or perhaps it’s fallen in love with me? I don’t care which way you slice it.

During the summer of 2016 I had a romance with a beautiful Japanese girl. I see an interesting parallel between loving a person and loving an environment. There’s the initial awe of something new coupled with anxiety of being able juggle the complexity of it all. Maybe one has an angry parent buzzing in their head saying “You’re in a new country / relationship now. Don’t fuck it up!”

Initially being in Canada felt like wading through sludge. There’s so many details, -isms, directions, slang and faces thrown your way, all that’s left to do is slowly wade through it. The sludge. Now that I’m two and a bit years into being “settled”, there’s less sludge. I can still see parts of it, others haven’t found me yet.

Where am I going with all this? Well, you remember the earlier analogy about the lover? A tipping point comes in any relationship. It is when you let your guard down. You express yourself, and run with it. It feels like flying. It tastes like freedom. That was exactly how I felt a few hours ago, churning up snow and dancing like dyslexic spaghetti.

Yeah…I may have looked like a fool, but I’m cool with that. Man must frolic, and so should you!


Facebook interrogates our privacy

What’s on your mind?

I’m sure you have heard that one before. Everytime you log on to facebook this is the sentence that daunts you. People often simply add a few mudane facts, from anything to walking the dog, a strange dream they had, or what is currently happening to their taste of food. Sometimes I don’t want to read stupid shit, but since I did sign up for facebook, I do allow certain sentences to rain down on me. This is obviously dependant on the friends I’ve chosen to add.

Something else facebook does rather unconsciously, is turn more and more people into proud bloggers of their own universe. Let’s say that most people have no more than 500 friends each. By adding a status, whether it’s funny or not, you’re asking people to comment…often provoking an online war when that wasn’t your intention. We’re the new proud generation that don’t confront any more, but rather sulk and angrily blog on our iPhones in our bedroom.

There are adults doing this! I read an article in the local paper a few days back. It was based on an academic study of how social networking sites, like Twitter, are making us more lonely. An example the article gave was that at a funeral people were seen checking their blackberry’s for updates. Personal tragedies and mourning no longer have the same effect on us, they’re merely another sordid headline we just turn the page and carry on. This bothers me.

I can’t say I’m damning smartphones since I own an iPhone myself. Although, it feels to me that we’ve been outsmarted by our own gizmos. Social networking may gives us a voice, but perhaps we are bending our personalities to fit in with it all?

I suppose each generation has it’s own problems to conquer. Three brief examples that come to mind are the following:

1980s – The rise of heavy metal in the commercial arena. Now we have parents and churches blaming their kids for listening to devilish music; when all they wanted was to get together with a few friends, some booze, a bankie of weed and lose themselves in the music. Can you blame a few kids wanting to escape? (Its a pretty natural reaction to escape the fiery clutches of bad parenting.)

1990s – The pokemon craze lands. Now millions of kids are suckered into buying cutesy cartoon-studded paraphernalia. The headlines read that a kids jump off buildings or stick their fingers into plugs, claiming a pokemon told them to do it. It sounds idiotic but nonetheless still plausible, that a cartoon can empower a troubled kid and give them a warped sense of comfort.

2000s – Technology booms. Teenagers become addicted to texting and generally walk around with iPods growing out of there ears.

Now why did I choose to use these crazy examples? Well music and cartoons are all understandable when it comes to escape. The problem with technology is it spills over into the adult world as well. I’m in the IT industry so I am not totally against technology but when I see it changing certain nuances in our lives and our language it does make me wonder…are we managing it correctly?


Philosophy, Thoughts

Porn is not for pussies (The logic in life)




Throw a few heterosexual men together; add a few beers and maybe the odd good looking dame. If you’ve done that the topic of sex is bound to come up one way or the other. It could be you friend bragging about how he ‘nailed’ a certain amount of girls. I’ve had a few friends describe to me their sex lives in the most uncomfortable detail (of course I don’t show this reaction, and pretend that IS how men are supposed to talk.) I’m different from your Joe Soap kind of guy. The reason is I don’t believe that a conversation should include wine, women and motor vehicles. At the same token I can’t say that I’m obsessed with each of the former pieces of conversation. I’m not some religious fanatic who thinks these are all evil either.


I’ll take them one by one, alcohol being my first rant. Alcohol is one of those drugs in life that blurs the logic in life. Some people choose to avoid it in its entirety. From one angle, you could say that there’s nothing wrong with an alcoholic because he choosing to ‘inflict’ himself with bouts of drinking (and ultimately blurring the line between his conscious and subconscious mind). Also many people would drink alcohol aren’t alcoholic, such as myself. This is simply because we are aware of the drugs’ negative and possibly abusive effects. For some it’s harder than others, but we learn – with trial and error – to pull in the reins when necessary.


Now what about cars? Well, mostly it’s just a hobby and a sport (predominately) men seem to share. Call me a geek, but this is another category I fail to file myself into. I’ve watched enough Top Gear (the British TV series featuring Jeremy Clarkson, Richard Hammond and James May), to throw a few models and makes into the general conversation. I start to get shaky and nervous when there is a petrol-head in the room that starts to talk technical terms such as horsepower, torque, handling not to mention throw in a paragraph of numbers to show he knows his shit. If you talk to me about cars for longer than 30 minutes, without asking my opinion or even throwing in a joke for sympathy’s sake you’ve lost my respect.


That’s another thing that fascinates me about men. Way back when…we were cavemen killing animals and trying to prove ourselves as capable and better (i.e. stronger and more bloodthirsty) than the rest of the clan. That little quirk in our chromosomes as kept us humans alive, but also shows its teeth if we are not aware with the way we handle it. When it comes down to racing a car, downing beers, or even earning a large salary I don’t mind competing. However, that’s not the end of the road for men. Along with that caveman chromosome to survive is another one…to conquer three things namely: Food (i.e. to provide for your family), Land (i.e. to have a dwelling to nurture and protect your family) and Women. The concept of choosing only one mate for life is relatively new, if you consider the whole of evolution. However…it doesn’t always work as planned. For example men still have affairs, or mistresses they don’t tell their wives about. If none of the former is true, then a man’s desire to conquer women seems to ‘leak’ out in one other category…




I spoke about men having a desire to conquer women. I do not mean that we’re all programmed to abuse and regard women as furniture. What I mean is as a man if you’re not conscious enough to form a relationship, and get to know/respect another woman intimately, it’s more likely your male need-to-breed part of your brain is going to be running the show.


Back to porn… What I’m trying to say is, at the end of the day, if you watch a lot of porn, you’re sitting on your sofa staring at a countless amount of male equipment. Porn (for a heterosexual guy) is not ONLY about seeing vaginas. Your friends might tell you different, because they are just trying to convince themselves. Even though a few lesbians may excite hetero guys, I’ll bet you that at least 80% of their porn collections have butt naked men in them. This is not because they have any gay tendencies. Realistically, if you want to watch a woman come, only another hetero guy can do it in a way that will excite you. Lesbians approach sex differently. So at some point a strap-on will never provide the same feeling and climax as the real deal. If you watch porn frequently…you do this purely to catch glimpses of a small little girl pretending this kind of thing, really excites her. I don’t give a shit about her actual age. Once upon a time when enough psychological forces (i.e. emotional and sometimes physical abuse) propelled her into a barrage of penises…she was still a girl. I also wonder does this girl really enjoy, the hot cum of five different men, painting her face? Does this act truly make her soul (or inner being) come alive?


To be honest I’d rather take this girl (regardless of how intellectually shallow she may be), and go to an art gallery. We’re still enjoying the act of people painting, although the process has cooled by now. No one is guiltily washing away the mess they were wallowing in, or even considering it a mess in the first place. An artist, who paints on a canvas, loves the stains of the oils left in her shirt. Sometimes she’ll turn her hand into a painting, just for one day, to see if it suits her. She is willing to create a mess, embrace the chaos, and swim with the variables. The major difference is she isn’t coerced into being an artist because she feels overwhelmed with life and needs to forget. The painting, careful planning, helping others, and the irreplaceable feeling of accomplishment are her motivating factors for engaging in this past time. Artists are often referred to as being influenced by the Muse. This is simply a mythical creature we say exists, to try and quantify the source of our inspiration.


I feel that watching porn for an extended period of time is just another reason to blur the logic of life. I know I’m getting a little repetitive so let me put it another way to you. It prevents us from staying conscious. My father is a philosopher, and I remember him introducing to me a while ago the theory of consciousness.


Initially when I heard the word I thought he was referring to my physical health. After all, that’s most probably the first place I heard the word while watching an episode of E.R. or Gray’s Anatomy. The philosophical definition of consciousness is a lot more than keeping the blood in your body. What it means (in a nutshell, since this is one huge topic) is to keep yourself ‘aware’ and continue to live despite the pain we face looking beneath the surface of our psychology. You see we’re all human, we all have religion, family, addictions, hobbies, passions and emotions. The biggest challenge we face is to juggle all these factors, and still continue to see the logic of life.


I think of myself as being at a horserace. I’m not a spectator, a jockey, or even a model (wearing something that breaks twenty minutes after the cameras regard you as ‘sexy’). I see myself as the horse, galloping ahead. I can feel the weight of the jockey’s fat arse, his stinging crop; i can smell the acrid dust burning my nostrils. I hear the squeal of last-minute-betters, and yet I continue to churn up the dirt. If you live and embrace a life according to Consciousness, then you’re prepared to plod along. Sometimes a glamorous outcome (like winning a horse race), will put aside the dirty details involved in its accomplishment. Some details we know, some we’re aware of, others will never cross our minds…but that’s ok.


Being conscious doesn’t mean you have to control every facet, and force around you either. Sometimes you may simply have to watch a few lives pulse and peter out into the horizon. If you can see the warm and solid hand of the sun – holding your gaze – you’re damn lucky you had the guts to stand up see it. Maybe one day we’ll be able to stand on the horizon, and learn to understand the struggles of our human condition.