Thursday, May 29, 2008

The Secret World of Og

I used to have two recurring dreams when I was younger, but haven't had one for about 6 years now.

The first one involved a big open clearing with a big, dark body of water with a wall blocking the other side of it. I would swing on a vine into the clearing and end up in the water, but was always scared of what lay beneath the surface. The closer toward the wall I went, the deeper and darker and scarier the water became. There were sharks once, eels often, slimy things, and sometimes a boat came to rescue me. I always seemed to wake up around this point.

The second was a dream where I would find a particular place on the carpet in my parents room and jump or dive or dissolve into it and go to a whole different place beneath the surface, crawling through tunnels to get there. Sometimes I would climb through a tiny vent to get to this world below, too. Once I was down there, I was in a beautifully ornate, old house, rich with fabrics and texture and patterns on almost every surface. I don't remember what exactly happened when I would go to this house through the tunnels, and never saw the outside of it.

This second dream reminds me of one of the most vividly remembered books of my childhood, The Secret World of Og. There is undoubtedly a connection between the recurring dream and that Pierre Berton book. I saw the illustrated copy with the original cover I remember at Chapters a few weeks ago. I think my imaginative climax peaked while reading this book. I wish I could go back to that place.

Monday, May 26, 2008

This is Not a Secret

It's not. If it were, I wouldn't be writing it.

Saturday, May 24, 2008

Fear, The Mind Killer

 Things I fear: 

Growing old
Falling coconuts
Cold weather
The systematic greed of our world, and its consequential demise
Caring for my aging parents in the future
The utter laziness of most young teens these days
Heart Disease
Eating too much
Having children/not having children
Strong Riptides
The gradual disappearance of rock and roll (REAL rock and roll.)
The worldwide fade-out of a middle class
Losing my mind

Wednesday, May 21, 2008


I Enjoy Dan Piraro's Bizarro every morning, and enjoy these cynical realities most of all.

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

times long past

I walked from Tony's downtown apartment to my house in North London this afternoon, and really got to examine the architecture and brilliance that old homes exude. The mixture of textiles: wood, stone, brick, stucco, iron, stained glass. The Victorian and Gothic revival style exteriors: ornate verge boarding, verandas, pillars. I love the climbing vines and gardens, all of which are well maintained and impeccably charming. As I walked under the tall, century old trees I found myself instinctively covering my head since it became such a habit while walking under palm trees in Central America (a staggering number of deaths are caused by falling coconuts). I found my mind wandering, imagining all the marvelous, unspoiled detailing inside, heavy woodwork on stair handrails and crown moulding, high ceilings, bay windows, exposed radiators, curved walls. These Victorian homes just seem so timeless, and I couldn't help but feel a little heavy-hearted since homes are just not built this way anymore. Sure, builders can claim to "take pride" in their work, but this pride is nowhere near equivalent to what it once was.

Similarly, I found a brilliant vintage Vivienne Westwood cardigan today, and could not be happier. It too, reminds me of the pride that craftspeople once took in their work; it is probably 30 years old, and is in mint condition.

Friday, May 16, 2008

The Crack-Up

If I were a man, I would undoubtedly be F. Scott Fitzgerald. Rationally selfish, ostentatious, decadent, frenzied. When I read Fitzgerald it is as though I am reading my own thoughts (just expressed in a genius tone and with an incomparable writing ability that I could one day only dream of waking up with). He was loved and hated, and with age, he slowly... "unraaa-velled, in a baaall of yarn". I have little faith in the idea that we all have lived as something or someone else in a past life, but I have an overwhelming sense of connection with Fitzgerald. Perhaps this is just my egotism creeping in; I am not unique or special. I must remind myself of this. All humans have similar thoughts at one time or another, and of course countless have the very same thoughts, the exact same thoughts, spanning decades and centuries. Regardless, what a wonderfully selfish, magnificant man Fitzy was...the poor son of a bitch.

Zelda wasn't too bad herself.

Monday, May 12, 2008

Ante Meridiem

There is something about the morning, the way it exudes newness and signals fresh undertakings. Awakening with the ability to achieve anything, cocooned and lounging between the covers and sheets. Stepping out of bed and towards the bathroom mirror, where we are reminded of what we look like, in case we have forgotten overnight. Breaking the fast, clean slate, stretching and sighing, being conscious of our breathe for the first time in hours. My favourite aspect of night is the anticipation of morning.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

seeping through the cracks

a) My Life cereal briefly resembled an Asian symbol when it was drenched in soy milk.

b) It seems so long ago when I was in Guelph. It was safe in there.

c) I laugh when I'm supposed to cry, and I'm grateful for that, but shouldn't be.

d) Do other people see most things as means to an end?

e) I like that nervous feeling of the unknown; it reminds me that my emotions exist.

f) Passion is underrated.

g) I have a vivid, recurring memory of my father buying me a blue hard plastic Minnie Mouse lunchbox when I was in Kindergarten.

h) Think of the day when seeing Radiohead live is no longer an option. Scary.

i) I truly love my dad with all my heart.

j) I am giving my mom a hug when she gets home.

k) I want to live like Marie and Marie

Sunday, May 4, 2008


...i got a new phone

Saturday, May 3, 2008

blood vessels are eating my corneas

I have discovered I have corneal neovascularization (Pannus), basically growth of new blood vessels into the cornea, that can result in serious vision problems if left in later stages. Due to my irresponsible wear/use of contact lenses when I was younger and maybe perhaps even still, this condition could have reached significant negative levels if I hadn't been informed of it while at my first day of work at a laser eye clinic recently. I am utterly shocked that my optometrist never explained how fucked up my eyes were and made me change the type of contacts I was wearing or explained to me the dangers of wearing the lenses for extended periods of time. No more contacts unless they are completely necessary in certain contexts (such as work). Now, through my own research I have discovered Pannus can cause increased bleeding during eye surgery and longer healing time as well as inflammation. I am scared! I just wish I didn't have to wait 3 more months to get corrective surgery, as this would solve my contact lense abuse issue and at least let my eyes have some O2. I am sorry eyeballs; I love you.