Double Tap

15 Apr

Ding!
Imessage, Instagram, Facebook, Glassboard, Voxer, Whatsaaaaap?
Ding!
You are funny. You are clever. You are worth something.
Ding!
My reality in pixels and chimes.
Little green and blue bubbles - 
bubbles containing calculated queries and quotes
in hopes that when looked upon by their eyes, they’d recognize
I was alive and
was
staying
afloat.

Ding!
Why oh why did I not consider the worst
that these bubbles could burst -
the air escaped my chest with every hyperlink pressed
that confessed –
nothing.

Ding!
Blocked, restricted –
I was addicted –
to knowing why.

Ding!
Am I so awful? When did I become so awful?
So bad that a smile on my face or to recognize the place I’ve been –
is not worth knowing?
So awful that I must be deleted, unfollowed –
Tough to swallow –

Ding!
the truth –
that though I tried, I am not a guide,
but a maze of cords and wires –
not worth figuring out.

Little red symbols –
little red pinholes –
that pierced and bled at first
but now
worse –

-
for once my existence was attacked –
hacked –
by those
fingertips.
Abhorred.

-
Perhaps it’s best
that all this is left -
ignored.

 

“It’s better to feel pain, than nothing at all
The opposite of love
Is indifference”

-Stubborn Love

One Love.

7 Mar

Choose
Choose
Choose purpose
Choose service
Choose to be the better man.
Choose living
Choose giving
Choose to do the best you can.
Choose dancing
Choose chancing
Choose to sail the seven seas
Choose breathing
Choose feeling
Choose only the worthiest memories
Choose laughter
Choose ever after
Choose vulnerability.
Choose honest
Choose promise
Hey baby.
Choose me.

I Need Some Liquid Paper – written April 2011

29 Jan

Nothing was ever permanent

when scribbled in a no.2

with a rubber benefactor

to smudge away all regrets

Now I’m stuck with you,

a cool hard shell incased with

a temporary supply of red

black or blue.

No longer are my wishes

wishes but contracts with

dues, stipulations, and

filed away proof of error.

No longer time for shading

various types of grey,

only thick lines allowed –

to keep everything in bounds.

No more sketching hearts

around the visions of love

pure and perfect, not worrying

if it would fade.

No more tracing the

edges of ideas or carelessly

nibbling on the body of a

wooden conductor.

Nothing but hard copies of

reality and records

of unfinished agreements

are collected.

Now, permanent markings

have been made,

and though it was all a mistake,

there remains a  depression on the page.

Overwhelmed.

29 Jan

A Day in the Life…

I make a ton of commitments.
Stress about not being able to complete them all.
Lock myself out of my house.
Realize I lost my house keys.
Definitely do not complete any of my desired tasks.
Somehow smash the top of my head with the hatchback of my car while attempting to slam it in a quiet rage because I have lost my house keys.
Curse quietly about my self-inflicted mildly concussed brain injury.
Realize all my issues aren’t really ‘issues’, but opportunities.
Feel so ridiculous that I even feel sorry for myself for even a tenth of a second.
Realize that we are our own biggest critic.
Understand that I need to cut myself some slack.
Find my housekeys right where they are supposed to be.  In a place I checked probably ten times already.
Vow to believe that nobody gives a shit about how imperfect I am.
Remember that those that count know my heart and love me and all my faults.
Treat myself to a healthy meal and some chocolate.
Cherish the love in my life.
Thank the universe for each day I am given.
Try and get a good night’s sleep.

Cheers

13 Dec

Enjoying the view from up here.  Riding a wave that will surely at some point have to reach the shore and toss me tumbling into the sands of reality.  But for now I am breathing deeply and sucking in the refreshing sea breeze, letting my lungs fill with the taste of change and possibility.
This is paradise. 
As the year comes to an end I am thankful for so many things.  For a (somewhat) healthy body which allows me to go where I want to go and the opportunity to physically push myself to new limits.
Having the chance to participate in Team Canada try-outs this month was a dream come true and a very specific goal that I had worked towards for more than two years.  Skating amongst my heroes and my friends in the town where I first put on a pair of roller-skates was a surreal and an unforgettable moment.
Waiting to hear back on the results, I am totally at peace.  I left it all on the track and accept this path I’m on.
It is no longer up to me.
Though the past year has presented some incredibly difficult tests and tough lessons I am able to say that I have no regrets and am grateful for every experience that has shaped my heart and soul and placed me where I am right now.
I have fallen in love again with skating.  With competing.
I am ready to make new goals.  Ready to work.

I have also fallen in love with life again.  With the pain and sorrows and the wild tornadoes that spin you around and drop you in the most unexpected and unexplored places.

It all happens for a reason and here I am, feeling so incredibly lucky and excited about my future.
The fact that I get to spend the holidays with my family and friends and share this part of my life with a very special someone…the fact that I will end this year with nothing but hope in my heart and new experiences to look forward to…

Honestly, anything else that might happen…well that’ll just be gravy.

Patience Grasshopper

20 Nov ???????????????????????????????????????????

Just give it time.
Things will get better in time.
In good time.
You just need some time.

Whether you are physically or emotionally ‘broken’, this tends to be the type of advice handed down to you by the currently healthy and happy people in your life.
It’s hard to hear.  It’s hard to believe.
It’s easy to retort with thoughts like, “But you’re not broken.  You cannot understand how this pain feels.  You do not know if it will get better.  How can you tell me that?”

I am writing this now because I have been through it.  I have experienced the pain and uncertainty of broken bones and a broken spirit.

And though, until recent time, I would have been the last person to have believed it, please know that time truly does heal all wounds.

In the past couple of years I have experienced what seemed to be an unsurmountable amount upheavel in my life.  Throughout this time friends, family and co-workers continually repeated those cliche words of wisdom, “it will get better”.  They would continue to promise me this whenever I expressed complete and utter hopelessness… and for awhile I have to admit I was convinced that everyone on this planet was a liar and had no idea the pain I was experiencing.

However, one important truth I have learned from all of this is that we have all, as human beings, suffered broken parts, whether they be broken bones or broken relationships.

And as human beings, we have the ability to recover.

The proof is in the pudding.

In terms of tangible physical injuries:
When I was 14 I broke both my Fibula and Tibia during a soccer game at the beginning of my season.
The E.R Doctor informed me I would most likely never play soccer again (jerk).
After months wrapped up in casts, hobbling around in crutches and being pushed around in a wheelchair, there was physio, the removal of the cast, then a pulled groin, and therefore even more physio…
At times when I was trapped in bed and just day dreaming about being able to walk up the stairs, I started to believe I would never be able to be the athlete I once was.  My dreams of playing for Team Canada someday were drifting further and further away.
That’s when doctors and friends and family would give me the whole, “in good time” speech.
How dare they.
However, just maintining even a speck of hope and belief that it would get better at some point in time, kept me going and with every day that passed, it was a tiny bit better than the day before.

I was able to return to the sport I loved by the following season and ended up playing for about five more years before having to give it up for school and work and other unexpected life events.
Never could I have imagined the path my life would take and the passion and fufilliment I would later find in a sport that some of you might have heard of…Roller Derby.  And another chance at that coveted Team Canada dream.

In terms of emotinal injury, loss and the broken heart, I have this experience to share…
Just a months ago my perspective on love was this:

“I have loved. And lost.  The results are that I am perpetually confused, sad and anxious.  I have allowed myself to love and lose and love again and lose again.  I am reaching the conclusion that I really don’t want to keep doing that.  I’d rather be alone for the remainder of my years than to torture myself with the ongoing of relationships which require feelings of absolute desperation, self-doubt and the questioning of who I truly am. 
So. Lost.
Currently I have delved in to my writing in hopes in hopes of gaining some understanding, forgiveness and self-reflection.  I am hoping I can pull myself out of this melancholy existence.
I know that life is a beautiful gift and that things could be worse, so much worse.  However, I just feel like life could be a lot less complicated without love.  Feelings just end up hurting.  Or even worse…turning into numbness.  I am numb.  
I want a simple existence. I want to have a good head on my shoulders.  I want to feel happiness and make other people in my life happy.  I feel like I just keep failing everyone.
Sure, heartache inspires art and is a universal experience, however it is also extremely fucking painful.
Why bother.”

FLASH FORWARD to RIGHT NOW and I can tell you this:
I am hopeful.  I am excited.  I am terrified, but I am ready and willing to keep trying.

Sure, life is potentially a bit simpler without the involvement of emotion or the consideration of other human beings, however it is also a lot less exciting.  I want to live my life to the fullest.  Part of that is learning from past mistakes, appreciating every lesson, and trying again.  It is about not ‘banking’ on something when it doesn’t turn out.  Because you never know where the path you are on is going to take you, and who might be waiting around the next corner.  The dreams you had that now seem no longer possible can change, will change,  into new dreams, different dreams, better dreams.

Scars are beautiful.  They tell a story.  They are proof that you are a survivor.  Scaped knees, stitches, dents and painful memories only provide proof that you, my friend, have lived, taken risks, and allowed yourself to be vulnerable.

So do it again.  Go ahead and jump! As high as you can! Trip, fall down, fall hard, and get back up.  Dust yourself off, take however long it takes to nurse your wounds, and then get out there and try again.

It just keeps getting better.  Just give it some time.

ox

Silence.

16 Oct

Don’t write.
Though it goes against everything that is your nature.
Don’t write.
You wanted to be the one to love and elate her.
Don’t write.
Everything you’ve researched explains its better this way.
Don’t write.
Silence is the only bond that can mend the affray.
Don’t write.
She will be better off and you will be better off.
Don’t write.
No combination of words will ever be enough.
Don’t write.

Don’t write.

Don’t write.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 35 other followers