A way with words?

Can you hear the music pounding in the background? The vociferous noise over the din of the crowd surrounding you, and people yelling to be heard all around your comfort zone? It is difficult on its own to try and hear your own thoughts at this level, but what do you do when someone walks up to you with something to actually say? You may find yourself wishing you were in a small, private litte cafe, with time to talk, and a want to maybe even learn of the other person's ideals about life...but, no, you are not able to do that, so you do the next best thing. You close your mouth and open your ears because you may never know what you can learn in any given situation. Here are my thoughts on the art of conversation, and the realization that it can happen at any given time, place, or opportunity. And when it does, people, please wait for your turn to speak; instead of only waiting for your chance to interrupt. Here you go, and may you enjoy...

Conversation is an art form that is dying...there, I have said it. Yes, to those who know me, I have said it countless times, and have repeated it numerously over the years. But, to this cat, I feel that so many people have decided to numb their subconscious by flicking on the "idiot box", changing channels on a screen, until they feel the slow rot of television burn internally into their brains. Or if they do chance a rap session, it is to only embark on piddly surface shat that does not stretch your intelligence; instead occupies space where real knowledge may one day be stored. Why is that? Are you afraid to let your mind run free? To bring up ideas in your cranium that make you think and go, "Hmmmmm"? a la Arsenio Hall used to? You have a mind, and please, for the love of all that is sacred, do not let it disintegrate into nothing but sands on the wings of time...you deserve more than that, people, trust me on this.

So, what would you do if someone did come up to you with something to say? How would you react and handle? Say, if they busted semantics on feminism - I shudder at the term "feminism" - and you supplied your own view, then stood back as they taught something you never really thought of? A different perspective than your own, yet it made you look at something in a more abstract ideal? That is why conversation is important, people, because life can throw the most offside curve balls that mess up your balance...and yet you can walk away unscathed with a new knowledge. You can leave the meeting with a feeling of individual empowerment, you know what I mean? Do not step lightly around this subject, but instead bring up a topic amongst your friends, and see how they respond to your thoughts...but, most importantly, jump all the over the chance to see what you may learn.

Here is a topic for you: If you could define intelligence in two seperate words, what would they be? I mean, really, when it all comes down to it, it is only words that we are spitting from our mouths right? I guess that would only depend on the observer because to me it is more than that...to me, it will always be about friendship, and never knowing what you may hear from another's mouth. Until we meet again, people, until we meet again.

"Minds are like parachutes; they work best when open."
- Lord Thomas Dewar

Quiet on the set...

My question in my last posting was what makes us feel alive, that which makes you wake up to give thanks for the coming day, and here is my reply to my own query...I have sat, thinking long and hard on the topic, listened to friends of their thoughts of it, and then had ten days of my life bring it all into clarity. It is kind of funny how things work out that way; funny-god-damn-amusing, funny-ha-ha, and, even more so, funny-like-a-clown. Here you go, and may you enjoy...

Somebody, please, if you can, grab the handle and give my carousel another spin...so that way, my ride may never have to end. The last week has been one of those kinds that can keep a person's spirits lifted for an entire year. It started with a surprise visit from my Mom - she flew in Edmonton to the East Coast of Canada to see me - which was amazing in itself. Then later on that week, I had the best hour and a half of television pleasure ever, when I caught an interview on Tony Hawk, then after that an excerpt on Newfoundland and Ireland, and then caught the Beastie Boys live in Scotland. Whew, I was so happy that week, and then my Mom totally treated me by taking care of fiscal shite, and then filled my fridge with groceries. I spent an afternoon with her, my friend Steve, Nelly, and an old family friend under a beautiful sunny Halifax sky, while we drank beers and listened to stories of old and new lore. I was sad to see my Mom go, but she will be back in the fall for my birthday, and is even thinking of moving here...whew, if that was not enough for a week, I spent the day yesterday as an extra on a movie set, watching as the magic of moving pictures took place, and picturing how my future screen-play may turn out. Life, in all its ups, twists and turns, only gets better as the sun drops lower in the sky; then even more fun as the night takes the days place.

I wake every morning - okay sometimes in the late afternoon - and for the first few moments, I will lie there and think; of my friends, my family, my coming day, but most importantly, I give thanks for the chance to be able to even open my eyes again. For the opportunity to see my friends, my family, and to have the ability to understand my thoughts. So many out there can take those things for granted because it is so easy to forget about something when it is always around you. But, to see my Mom smile at me again, to hang out with her and laugh, was exactly what the doctor ordered. To relax on a beach with a close friend, laughing and burning shite, is what makes my nights pass into the journals and memories of good times. Don't forget who you are, and where you are going, but most importantly, do not forget where you came from.

If I can ask only one thing of you, it would be this: somewhere, where ever you are when you read this, all I ask is that you sit for a second and listen to your breathing. Feel it enter your body and pay attention as it leaves it again...understand that without it, we have nothing; no more, no less. So, when life is getting you down, and your friends are nowhere to be found or seen, realize that all you have to do is breathe. Simple, hey? Until we met again, people, until we meet again.

"The world I love the tears I drop to be part of the wave can't stop...
Ever wonder if its all for you?"
- Red Hot Chilli Peppers

Melancholy dreams...

Accountability or blame? I think it all comes down to choice...making a decision to realize what matters most, and acting accordingly from there. Here, people, here is a little taste of what it is really like in my thoughts and aspirations, and a little more of the dream that haunts my waking hours. Here you go, and may you enjoy...

I thought that it was lying dormant, that my actions as of late had laid some sort of muzzle on it. Then, tonight, of all nights, it comes back and lets me know that it is never going to truly go away; that it has too much meaning in my life to erode like dust on the winds. Funny, but I am actually happy to know that it is still there, whether it be in the back of my conscious, or in the forefront; either way it is not something I really wanted to say goodbye to...I mean, how could I? She deserves more than that, right? Right.

So, in one hand, I can blame all the impostors who have come and gone in my life, to make my life that much easier to live. That it was them all along who caused strife, pain, and all that other crap that happens at the end of a relationship...or, I could do what I have been as of late; imagining the dream was a fallacy, a myth, and maybe that it never even happened in the first place. But, ignoring something does not necessarily solve the problem either. So, I will do what is needed to continue on. I will hold my head up high, keep my secret near, and believe that one day she will walk into my life...and that I will be ready for it when she does. If I am to be honest with myself, then it is to admit that I am not ready; not quite yet. I need to sit back against my sturdy oak tree, breathe in my surroundings, and work on the whittling of my internal demons; release their hold on me like shavings falling to the earth under my feet. I realize that they all have had their purpose in my time, that they all came for a reason; to teach an old soul some new tricks, and to open my eyes to what is around me. To show me that it need not always be a race, that sometimes it is all about slowing down, and to remember rule number #2: There is no need to rush.

It is with this knowledge that my thoughts feel lighter tonight, and that I know things will happen in their own good time. I accept that the choice comes down to me, and to me only...for it has always has, and always will. Have you ever had something grab you by the laurels, pull you up off your heiney, and make you attack life with a force you have never felt before? Made everything spin all about until you felt nauseous, but for some reason, you refused to get off the ride? If you have, then you have only the lightest inkling as to what pushes me forward; to what makes me force my head up, straighten my shoulders...and march. Always forward, never looking back, for the dream is in the forefront, and never in the back of the pack.

So, here is my question that I will supply my own answer to in the next posting...what is it that we feel makes us alive? Is it the thoughts of what may be, what once was, or what the moment entails? What makes you wake up every morning and give thanks for the coming day? Huh...until we meet again, people, until we meet again.

"And when man faces destiny, destiny ends and man comes into his own."
- Andre Malraux

Balancing the scales...

This is a new format I am entering into, here on my website that the generous souls at blogger so graciously supplied me free of charge. It has been done by other bloggers, but for me it is new territory...it is just that my postings seem to be getting longer, yet I still have so much to say, and only so much space to say it. So, my next series of writings will be separated into consecutive postings, with the new ones picking up where the old ones leave off. I am hoping to tickle your funny bones, captivate your senses, and make your mind stray from its normal deviant course. Here you go, and may you enjoy...

I spent last night hanging out on a beach, sitting in front of a campfire, walking on hard sands, and, of course, chasing waves. It was a spontaneous decision made by me and my friend, Rob, who finally got his van on up and running, and wanted to make the first road trip of the summer. We collaborated our thought-processes, grabbed some wood, kindling, paper for burning, and some snacks for the trip. A half hour later found us languishing in front a roasting fire, smiles on our faces, and stories tumbling from our mouths. There I stood, in front of the Atlantic Ocean, so powerful and angry in its own right, and it reminded me of a time when I stood on another beach.

On the West Coast of Canada, located on the Northeastern side of Vancouver Island, is a little paradise called Tofino. It is also as far as you can go in our country, for it is bordered on the Pacific Rim - the other side of that rim is Japan. I lived there a few summers ago, and events occurred there that would change my life in ways I could never have conceived, but the Island has always seemed to do that to me. Here is my main point though...the Ocean, whether East or West, North or South, Indian or Artic, has a hold on us humans in a way none of us can understand. It is a forever-flowing, ebbing, and tossing world of secrets. How many have stood before it and hurled their worries into the waves? Have walked away, feeling a just a little bit lighter, and a sense of calm running through their veins? How could you stand before a power as such and give away to past angst or pain? In my mind, it is not possible...for all those who sit behind a desk and fret about their mundane existence, I have only one thing to say: head west, man, head west. A brand new world awaits.

So, here is my point about that whole tangent...it is a matter of choice, people. In one hand, you have responsibility to yourself, and in the other, you have blame. Blaming another for where you are because they made a decision that effected your life. When all you have to do is look in the mirror and realize it all comes down to you. You don't like where you are? Then change your surroundings, deconstruct your comfort zones until they are so expansive that you are always comfortable no matter where you turn your head. Not comfortable in your own skin? Spurn the old, dig deep into your internal, find that which brings dis-ease into your soul, and understand its purpose. Then stand back, feel the scales of old fall to the wayside, and look down upon your new body; fresh and ready to take on the world. It is not like I am just saying this to see my own words, people, I say it because I have lived it, and still am. Sure, I might not have a mortgage, a wife or children, but I do have friends and family that I have left behind numerous times that are too many to count...but, once again, whose life are you living this for, anyway? Theirs? Or for yourself?

So, for now, here is where I take my leave, but I do depart with a question...if you had accountability in one hand, and accusation in the other, which one would you choose? Which of the two would allow you to wake in the morning and look yourself in the eye without guilt? It all comes down to the mad-ass balancing act of managing the scales, right? Right. Until we meet again, people, until we meet again.

"I was taught very early that I would have to depend entirely upon myself; that my future lay in my own hands." - Darius Ogden Mills

City dwelling...

Outside my window, the rain continues to fall, and fall...and fall. It falls unto hard cement sidewalks, on top of cold impersonal skyscrapers, and into the endless depths of the Atlantic Ocean. It is funny to sit here and think that I never wanted to live in a city again, a metropolis of humans all running on a never-ending treadmill; all scrambling to get nowhere fast in the rat race of politics. I know, I know, I came here for school and in the long run, that is the desired result I am aiming for...but, on days like today, when I am stuck inside and just want to get out and do something, I find my thoughts stay their course. Amazing, that it does happen to me occasionally, but at times like these, I just want to be somewhere else, a place where the sands are soft and white; where the snow on top of mountain peaks are untracked and waiting for my arrival. If anything is helping to keep me sane, then it is that I have good friends all around me...it is just that right now we all are feeling the same; we all just want summer to come and stay for a few months.

Rain has always seemed to follow me where ever I go; or, maybe, more that I seem to be on its trail. I have seen many different forms of sky-juice in my life, but none the likes of what I saw growing up in Newfoundland. It seemed as if the rains there fell from the ground up; big, fat, drops of condensation that came down like falling cats and dogs. Well, okay, it was not that bad, but it was pretty thick sheets of water. Add in the fact that Newfoundand is smack-dab-on-the-tip of the Eastern part of the Atlantic Ocean, and then you might be able to conceive the winds that were partners in crime with those same rains. No one walked outside on those days unless you wanted to be blown away like Mary Poppins on speed...get it? The Disney character that used to float down by umbrella? Well, picture her in a windstorm, being blown backwards at high speeds, without any hope in the world of ever landing. Back home, the storms come to play, wreak havoc, and then blow away back into the ocean; brewing up plans on when they will be back for a return engagement. Leaving the inhabitants of that Island grateful for the repreive.

It is days like these, that I realize I am back on the East Coast of Canada, in the beginnings of summer, and wondering when this damn liquid sunshine will stop..and allow for the real Vitamin D to arrive. I mean, dammit man, if I have to be in a city again, then at least open the clouds so I can see what surrounds me; so, I can see old bunkers of rock and stone overlooking the flatness of water, and grassy knolls of history covered in the growth of time. The last few months have held scenes of an age-old culture based on tradition, foggy, smoked filled nights, and time honoured values. When the clouds break, we all rush out to bask in the sun, and feel its energy...I just hope we can remember what it looks like when it does show its face. Until then, I will just blame it on the rain.

"Far away in the sunshine are my highest aspirations. I may not reach them, but I can look up and see their beauty, believe in them, and try to follow where they lead."
- Louisa May Alcott (1832 - 1888)

Curiosity killed the cat?

Damn, sometimes I scratch my head in wonder at my thoughts. I can lie awake at night at times, not able to sleep, and my mind just races like the Autobahn. Continuous circles of an endless road that stretches on for what seems forever. Then I wake up, albeit groggily, and give thanks for the coming day; it just always seems that my raceway seems to follow right along. Most of the time though, my memories have a way of forcing their way in, and for a while the race heads in for a pitstop. Then I get the opportunity to remember a time when, and eventually put that into print. This would be one of those times. Here you go, and may you enjoy...

It's like you hear a timer being rotated in circles, and you know you only have a small amount of time in a place, before you hear the ding of the bell. I speak of travelling all the time, but that is only because it is good for the soul, and that so many of my friends feel the same. Brasil is going to Miami, California is in Thailand, Canada is headed to New Zealand, and Newfoundland is going to America. We are all searching for the ring that I feel is close at hand for this cat; all it depends on now is not "if" it happens, but when it happens. When my forehead slammed into the ground, I could almost hear the ding going off in the background...for my race was only just beginning, and so no time limit can ever be enforced on me. Scattered images of a broken body, confused mind, and an insatiable thirst in those days. There was a hunger to heal, to rebuild and mend what was willing to be remade.

I knew my back was okay the day I flew off the lip on Mount Washington in Vancouver Island, and ended up catching my edge on the take-off. I was roasting at the roller and was in mid-rotation when it happened. It sent me about 8 feet in motion until I slammed into the solid groomed snow below. The collision was hard, quick, and I landed straight on my bankroll; sending my jacket up over my chest, and exposing my once-broken-back to the cold snow. I slid another 10 feet at high speeds, upside down, and laughed the whole entire time. I could feel the quickly heating snow all along my lower posterior, but didn't care about the burn...I was riding again, and nothing else mattered anymore. I remembered how I stood at that same base in the opening days of season, and how I gave thanks that I would be able to go snowboarding again. Then, had the same lifestyle show me that things are always going to be fine. Just trust, believe, and enjoy the ride. The freedom it allows, the soft surf on the wave of snow, and the timer is always on for the search. I can only compare it to travelling to a new beach, surfboard in hand, and finding a break so sweet that you ride it everyday that you are there.

Now, here I sit at a computer on the East Coast, coming back to the present day and time. The sun breaks through the clouds, showing promise for the coming night. Blink, and a day passes; open them and another begins. It all comes down to friendship, people, it all comes down to friendship. From there, you grow the confidence to explore and reconstruct your comfort zone, ready to head out and lay your own tracks. For me, it all comes down to this - if you are feeling like selling everything you own, storing the rest, and taking off into the dawn like a bandit in the night...then what are you still doing here? Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it will never dent the soul of the survivor. I mean, forward progression is the link to survival, is it not? It's all good, my man, it's all good.

Hold on McGinty. Hold on.

"Every man ought to be inquisitive through every hour of his great adventure down to the day when he shall no longer cast a shadow in the sun. For if he dies without a question in his heart, what excuse is there for his continuance?
- Frank Moore Colby

Perpetual chaos...

This is the story of a man on a quest, of a journey full of low roads, and high valleys. It is of a writer's concept and the memory of a boy's life; both worthy of being heard. What he learned along the way is not the main focus anymore, or the dream he chased across oceans and mountains...to realize that it was not to be. No, this particular epic has to do with letters, words and images sent out to a person who knows what I write; and what really lies between the lines. Life is all about the paths we travel, the friends we meet, and the search for a soul to share. They say only fools rush in, and many times I have proven that theory to be true; my heart forever the innocent bystander. But, not so long ago, I gave that same heart to one I knew I could trust, and through it all, has never been one to let me down. What is left behind is shut-down, resting, and will one day be ready to search again. For now, I can only stay the burn of time, and not blindly rush where fools trod. I have no idea exactly what it is that I am starting, I only know that a moment is upon me. Here you go, and may you enjoy...

I remember lying in front of my fireplace one night, and I was running my hands over the lower back of the girl laying next to me. She held a presence I had never felt before, and her company was a welcome retreat. I thought she was asleep...then I heard a voice ask, "Have you ever had a threesome?" I won't bore you with the rest of details, but, suffice to say, my reply was, "Well, yes...but, technically, no."

Love can play such games on us. Just when you think it has arrived, it is showing you the door. My row of impostors still stand strong and clear, now so much the more that I am coming near. I am coming to the truth of knowing that we all play games; some we win, some we lose. The game of love is one in which we all play, and sometimes the stakes are higher than we bargain for...but is it not the same result we all play for? If you were to ask me what my love is, I would answer, "I have not met her yet." If you were to ask me what my passion is, I would answer, "I want to be a writer." It is my obsession that can sometimes seem to be the trouble that rides both their coattails.

I think love would cause nothing but havoc now, since it seems I am falling into perpetual chaso again. I am shutting down old beliefs, reworking new plans into future goals, getting back to a feeling of living my life as my own again. Amazing experiences always seem to follow suit with that feeling...good times in the Maritimes.

Hold on McGinty. Hold on.

"And ours is a road that is strewn with goodbyes
As it all unfolds; as it all unwinds
Remember your soul is the one thing that you can't compromise."
- David Gray

Forgotten friends...

Well, well, well...so a friend of mine, oh let's call her Emily, said that my last couple of writings were not the same as my originals. She mentioned that she is a fan of them, but that she prefers when my words are more exposed, more raw, and open for interpretation. Here is one about friendships that come and go, some that stay the ages, and others that fall to the wayside even after you thought they would forever be there...and then there are others that always continue to amaze and comfort the soul. Here you go, and may you enjoy...

So many souls have come and gone in this man's life, and as they pass through, I always sit back and wonder...do they know how they take a piece of me everytime they say goodbye? That my heart grows stronger with their presence, and misses their words when they are not around? To you who have broken and slipped through my walls, have gotten to see the person I really am versus my facade, to those who want to make the road trip through life with me, I say thank you for making my life that much sweeter...

But to those who chose to disregard me, and think that I would forget them, I have this to say: you seem to have forgotten who I am. To those who misunderstood me, mistook me for a punk, or even thought they were better than this cat, y'all need to stand back and look in the mirror. I did one day, stood there and gazed upon my countenance, eyes all blacked out, nose shattered, a body cast on my frame, and an ugly gashed up scab in between my eyes. I can still feel my hands gripping the porcelain sink, holding my body straight, without shame, and only a little shock...and coming to a realization that although they tried, they cannot kill my soul. Pain? What is that but weakness leaving your body...sadness? Only a reason to cry and still be a man; to know that although the body may break, it is the soul that allows for survival. Through the years since, I have come to see that we need not always walk alone; that at times it is okay to lean against a strong shoulder and rest my tired bones.

So, an old friend has come back into my life after a fourteen year absence. He stopped me on the street in recognition, where others who only saw me a year ago couldn't recognize me. I have been called a chameleon, and a person always in the process of reinvention. Yet, here was my man taking the time to perceive what it is not always apparent, and stop an old friend once forgotten. He is one who has seen much death, much stupidity of human actions, and has dealt with loss of his own. So, it now only makes sense that we would become tighter than tight, hang like time never passed, and I hold bond that he has my back...because he feels mine strong against his, ready to back up whatever calamities may come our way.

Nights of silly debauchery, smoky roads of future paths, and an understanding that what came before only lays the foundation for what comes next. Head up, shoulders straight...now march. It is only with our heads held high that we see what is ahead of us, no matter how foggy the view, no matter how rocky the road, no matter how many times we feel alone...maybe that is when we are being carried in the arms of a friend.

"We call that person who has lost his father, an orphan; and a widower that man who has lost his wife. But that man who has known the immense unhappiness of losing a friend, what do we call him? Here every language is silent and holds its peace in impotence."
- Joseph Roux

Backpack retirement...

I was going through some of my old papers, when I came across a writing I did before leaving Whistler last summer. I had just come back from visiting my friends in Vancouver Island, and it would be my last trip there for at least four or more years. My life was in transition, my thoughts were straight ahead, and my goal was to move back to my roots. It seemed that all I could think of was the East Coast and my upcoming stint as a student. It is funny since not too long ago, the Defiler of Shoes wrote me an email on the idea of "backpack retirement" and then I find this writing...huh. Here you go, and may you enjoy...

It's like time in a box; passing so slowly as if frozen in place. The coastal mountains are at sea-level height, offering a view of soft green light. Growth is occurring in an everyday passage, through thought, listening and reacting. My wake lies white behind me, the churning soon to be met, understood and respected. I have made the Island sojourn back and forth on so many occasions, for so many different reasons. A journey that began in so many different ways, through so many number of days, and a rolling of the dice; all falling where they may.

The travelling burning, the wanderlust of yearning, constantly there in the passion of a young man's learning. A north wind that blows with certainty, guiding...and realizing what may be, will be. An amble over assorted terrain, leading along paths of decision, choice...and sometimes whatever. I have already implemented some structure, and will only add more in the future. Forward thinking that evolves into a way of being. A meager existence for a semantic balance is worth the toil. It is all somewhat easier when you are not waiting on time, and instead looking forward to walking on the East Coast soil.

The first notice of long-term travel is when you start to feel the weight of your pack. Years ago, I did not even know it was there...your fingers reach up and caress the straps, war-bonded twins that have always entered into the fray. Scenery and landscapes change, but what do the eyes truly see? A wanting to move forward, getting the show on the road, to fly down highways of blue and red; valleys of rock and stone, and wheat-filled prairies of golden dreams. I want to head back to my safe harbour in the tempest. At least until, the tempest once again beckons on the north bound current.

Moving ever so slowly, I depart from the Island ferry, once more unsure of when I may return again. I keep the memories stored away as all the images slip through my fingers, and watch as they become lost along a river of change. Self-garnered renewal of thought, all acquired over my long season. The first leg of my journey slowly draws to a close, weeks becoming days; days into seconds. It is so close that I can actually taste it now. What dreams may come for those who dare to daywalk their wanted aspirations? I can smell the East Coast salty-goodness, mingled in with the anticipation of what may be. As I spend yet another day on the road, I find myself stopping to ponder my travels. Where they have led me overshadows outcomes that only the hands of time can reveal. Life is so amazing in what it holds within its sometimes deceiving folds. It all leads me to where I am today...with no regrets. Never regrets.

Hold on McGinty. Hold on.

"Experience is one thing you can't get for nothing."
- Oscar Wilde

Scrambling for home...

A comical figure, dressed in server attire, ambles out to address his table. Can tyou hear the sounds of jazz playing over the din? I can, and I can also see the lights play over the ocean's surface; refineries and mean, old brick buildings across the harbour as the illuminating source. I can almost smell their smoke; salty and thick, like the content of the water itself.

Four seasons past and gone, with the fifth one soon to begin. The depth of my understanding grows deeper with every day that passes. In the beginning days after waking up, I was so full of life and could see for miles in front of me; where now I can see for generations. Do we ever come to a point where we stop and forget to breath? I could not even begin to try and pretend not to notice my surroundings. To give thanks for second chances; another opportunity at a moment lingering on. It is just up ahead, waiting patiently for my arrival. Only I will know when that due date is.

There is no rush, no hurry, and, "Hey man? Did you need a refill on that?" A light tinkling of glass on glass to acknowledge, and a potential is full; potential of a half-empty glass, that is. The heart beats as the finger plugs the hole in the dam...how long before that is not suffice, and the walls come tumbling down? You pick yourself up, brush off the dust, and continue on. Forward progression is the key to survival.

The horns play in the background, and the dark slowly sets. The lights turn low and the night begins. It's closing time, boys; shut the doors and close the shades. Hit the ground walking and never ever look back.

Time stalls for a brief stop, and then once again continues its unabated momentum. My scenery changes from water to concrete and steel. I look out the window at the cemeteries dotting the landscape, an age-old tradition of final passage. What will be eventually gives way to what is coming; what is coming eventually gives away to what will be. Time waits for no man; only the moment waits for us all.

Hold on McGinty. Hold on.

"Patience is the companion of wisdom."
- St. Augustine

Wanderlust...

To travel is the key. To see the world through different eyes, to gain abstract perspectives, and incorporate new ideas into new alliances. So, you all know how I have spent the last 5 years abroad - well, okay, abroad North America - but have I ever told you about my fleet-footed friends? Like my brother Josh-Beaner-Batsch, the dude from California that I met once, one night like 3 years ago in Whistler. We hung out for the night, partied like wild mountain men should, made plans to go ride the next morning, and I have never seen him since. Beaner has lived in Utah since, some islands surrounding Washington, up into Canada into Victoria, spent some time in South America, and is now in Alaska somewhere...saving dinero to get ready to leave again. Cheers amigo, and may we soon meet again. I miss you homes.

Then there is my friend Jared, who I met while I was living in Tofino two summers ago. I was working in a campground - don't ask and I won't tell - and he was up visiting from Southern California, from somewhere around Tahoe I think. Jared is a soft-spoken man with a heart of gold, and a steel trap of a mind. Anyway, we hung out for a couple of days, busted some mad knowledge on each other, and then he too was gone. I have not seen him since, but from his last email, he is somewhere in Thailand right now, living the good life and pestering the natives I hope. Be good my man, and rest assured you are in this man's thoughts.

I also have this "friend" Jeralynn. I say "friend" because once upon a time we were "friends" with fringe benefits, and god, they were great benefits, let me tell you. I met her on my stint on Vancouver Island, and we hung out for a month or so, until our time together ran dry. I remember her telling me that she had so much to see, so many things to explore, and she is making good on those words. While I was living in Whistler last year, she emailed me from Korea, to tell me she was teaching Engish to some Korean children and adults. We even talked on the phone for a few moments and updated each other on our lives...or maybe it was just to hear each other's voice again. You know how it is when you are on the road...sometimes you just need to hear a friendly tone. She emailed me today saying she is headed back to South Korea to visit, then is off to New Zealand for 5 to 6 months, and then she is booking it to South East Korea for another stint...so she will be gone for a year or so, and I say stay for longer. Why not right? Do it now while you still have the chance, Jer, and may you never look back over your shoulder, or find yourself thinking of a certain boy from Newfoundland. I find myself wondering how you are now and then, and even some more time thinking about that callipygian of yours. Keep stretching the boundaries of thought and understand your internal through the outside workings of your external.

Last, but most definitely not least, we have Brasil. You see, I have never met one the likes of her. She has seen many things, and in the last two months alone has visited the Bahamas and even now as we speak, is in Cuba. I am hoping she brings me some cigars back and more so, I am hoping she brings a shirt of Ernesto hisself for me. I think she has plans for New York this summer, and I am looking forward to hanging out with her on my home turf - The Rock aka Newfoundland...the last hidden, treacherous and most spectacular place on earth. Then, in the upcoming fall, she heads out on a trip that all travellers would lust over - a sailing trip around the world to raise awareness on the eroding coral reefs, and maybe do a little bit of surfing somewhere in between. I think of her the most of all, and only wish she could see what I already know. But only time will tell on that, and I can only hope she remembers our pact when I show up on her doorstep in Brasil.

Then there is me...like I said, I plan on returning home for the first time in over a decade, to see the place my heart so desperately longs to see. Then, after school is done, I will head down to California, and use it as my launching pad to leave this continent behind. I will spend the next proceeding 6 years in three different cities, with a two year stint in each. Imagine what I can write about hey? It gives me shivers everytime I think about it...like the night I traced a friend's ocean voyage on a wall map, and then turned around to see her staring at me, unable to breathe. Reality is not what we think it is, and it is only made for the non-believers, which is something me and my brethren our most definitely not. Head up, shoulders straight...now march.

Hold on McGinty. Hold on.

"Two roads diverged in a wood and I -- I took the one less travelled by, and that has made all the difference."
- Robert Frost

Collision repair...

After de-railment happens, you find yourself out of sorts, and crashing through the underbrush; out of control and blind to your upcoming future destination. Sometimes, though, it is not always as bad as you had thought it would turn out to be. Sometimes, at times like these, it can be cushioned with a big, huge pillow, and the landing is not so extreme. This is to be my first summer in Halifax, and I am looking forward to it. The last few days have been nice and sunny, my place of employment has a beautiful harbour front view; and I should be able to accomplish some goals this season. It is funny that I am now referring to summer as "season", but it looks like the leaves are growing on the trees and it is so cool to see them take life. A changing of the seasons hey? Huh...funny that.

Do you believe in karma? That what happens, happens for a reason, and our actions based on those occurences, somehow play out in our later days? I do, and I feel that I may have played out the karma dealt to me, and that is time for something else. I feel an upswing in my future, and it is so close, that I can smell it...because it is standing right next to me. I am now in the minute, can feel another change in me, and knowing that it will only lead to good things. I will always sit back and wonder at the awe that we call life. For all the times it can slap you around, it can also hold you in the palm of its hand, and place you where you most need to be. I laugh when I think that my plans this summer consist of working, playing guitar (soon to buy one and will update y'all), and saving money for school. Okay, throw in some ink in there, with a trip to Newfoundland for Festival, and the rest to be saved. I laugh as I think of how long it has been since I saw the summer leaves in St. John's, and how it has been long overdue for me to see them again. I laugh because this is the most structure I have had in the last five years, and I am loving every minute of it. Why you may ask? Well, since you ask...I laugh because I know, one day not more than fours years from now, that I will be shattering that same structure. Then rebuilding it somewhere else, on foreign soil, but in a place I have always needed to be. I am held in the palm, as we all are when we least expect it. It is shown that we have learned a lesson, and it it time to come to the next in line. I am here, am only moving forward, but hey...no more bricks okay?

Hold on McGinty. Hold on.

"I had a dream I was moving forward, floating gently to the sun
Come to see my world rewarded...a new day has begun.
Now I can see the earth below me and I can feel it turn.
Fog lifts to reveal potential for generations prophesized,
Our growth to be exponential...the promise is finally realized."
Now I can see the earth below me and I can feel it turn.
Feel it turn across the sky,
For the world it learns, so must I." - Great Big Sea

Slow burn...

Scar: (skar)n. A mark left on the skin after a surface injury or a wound has healed

I think I held my dream so tight that I didn't allow room for it to breathe. Now that I have placed its burden down, and stepped aside, I can see that it is unsure...that it does not know what to do now. Funny that I speak of it this way, but it has been such a huge force in my life, for so long, and for so many years. Maybe it is me that is unsure, and does not know where to turn next.

Why is it that I always seem to be in this exact same place over the last five years? It is weird that this happens to me, and if it is some sort of cycle, then please let me out - I have been through the rinse enough to know that the spin comes next. I just do not want to do it anymore, you know? The excitement turns to uncertainty, and then the uncertainty to doubt, until I end up back where I started...by myself, and sporting some new, albeit funky, scars. But, dammit, I have enough scars, and now I need time to heal all those marks left behind; to heal the person left behind. Oh yeah, that's right...that would be me.

You know what though? It is not that bad...this new place that I am in. I see what is in front of me, where I am headed, and I know it is so bright that it is the only I can see for miles and miles. I can almost imagine I feel the cold brass of the ring as my fingers take their hold. It is that close, that near, and I can almost taste it. Oh yeah baby, oh yeah. A change for the better is rising on the wind. Can you hear it?

Hold on McGinty. Hold on.

"From age to age, nothing changes, and yet everything is completely different."
- Aldous Huxley

Seperating of the senses...

I wrote not too long ago of the passing of my friend, Lennie, but tonight I will write about a new life instead. My close friend Amy, a Canadian living in Australia, is the new mother of beautiful little Ava Leora. I almost believe I can see Amy's wisdom in her eyes, and essentially already know she will have inherited her mom's wanderlust to boot. They are coming back to our soil in August I think, so I will have to see fit to go visit sometime in the coming year; it would be good to see Vancouver in the summer again. But before I do that, I will be making plans to go back home for the George Street Festival at the end of July. There may be a chance of meeting my brother's new son, the nephew I have yet to hold in my arms, and breath in the smell of new life.

I remember when my phone rang last summer, while I was hanging out with my friend Kim at my Whistler residence. It was my brother calling from the highway somewhere in North Carolina with the news of Connor's birth. He was such a proud pappy and I could hear my nephew gurgling in the background. It was so awesome to know my family was branching out and we were welcoming it with arms wide open. At the time, I was in transition of getting ready to leave the mountains for my move back to the East Coast, beginning school at the age of thirty, and leaving behind one lifestyle for a completely different one; one of scholarly pursuits and not my usual soul search for snow. It had been a year of new openings for me, learning about myself, and travelling so far down the rabbit hole that I had to leave behind a bread trail to locate the exit. I was healing a separated shoulder - the bone still sticks out a sore thumb - and thought I was soon to be heading to meet the woman I wanted to marry.

Quick story while on the topic of life - since mine always seems to be a little more strayed than your normal, everyday versions. Picture this if you will: Imagine having a photograph of a girl years before you meet her, and then have that same female sit behind you in class, not three years later. Imagine not putting two and two together until another fours years down the road. Now see yourself being best friends with her for fifteen years while not even seeing her once, in the last ten of those. Finally, conceptualize going to see her again when she was now a woman... I was returning for an education, yes, but had been in love with her from the time I laid my sixteen year-old eyes on her, and was planning on telling her so. But, on our first night of reunion, I was beat to the punch, as I listened to her tell me she was the one who had been in love with me for the last decade. Now imagine all those variables, plus the addition of both of us being single, and if you have been reading my posts, then you can also refer to my dream. It all made sense because we had spent our friendship always talking about having our rocking chairs picked out together...amazing how two people who seemed so destined to be together could turn out to be so wrong and different from one another. How it could strain a once unbreakable bond, and turn it into pliable jello; until not even the sugar can hold it together. Now imagine not only feeling your heart break, but hearing it as well.

I am not done yet, dear readers, not even by a long-shot...after that, imagine spending time with a co-worker, who when you first saw her, you knew she had something to do with your life. Meeting her when you thought you were with the woman of your dreams, yet feeling guilty for even thinking of her in that way. Imagine that she turns out to be your Kris Kringle pick months later, and your best friend/love of your life, not only picks out the gift for her; but spends twenty minutes wrapping it, and hand-delivering it via you. As in, here you go, here, have Todd because I will be setting him free soon. Sit there one night a few months after that, as she gives you the answer to a personal riddle you have posed to humans for the last three years; ever since you woke up in a hospital bed, full of new life and ready to battle all your demons. Now imagine having to set her free because she is preparing to spend the next three or four years sailing the world, and not only dealing with that, but actually coming to an understanding of it...then not even a month after that, see yourself losing a close friend to murder and an unfair revoked second chance on life. All, one on top of the other...now imagine the fact that you feel stronger than ever, and knowledge of that this too will pass.

Now some will know why I have placed my dream on the top shelf; why I must learn to fashion a hollow from within. For the first time in my life, I see that this is my path, and if we ever do meet it is because we are both headed the same way. Until that day, I will do like always: head up, shoulders straight...now march. Always forward with no regrets, and only maybe a few looks behind over my shoulder. My time is now, what better time is there?

"Scars are souvenirs you will never lose
Past is never far...and did you lose yourself somewhere out there?
Did you get to be a star?
And don't it make you sad to know that life...is more than who we are?"
- Goo Goo Dolls

Silent Observer...

It is like I am looking down at myself...I am high above, and below is this solitary figure. It is the side of me that doesn't understand that I am no longer lost, that my life is almost ready; almost, but not quite yet. First, there is my spirit remaining to fight my inner demons, and rid myself of all the things they come between. I want to pound on the window and scream aloud, but why would I? It would come to naught, for I am on a search...a way to tap the void, to empty it, and leave it hollow. That is it, isn't it? To totally understand yourself, you must first step aside and accept who we are. To realize what is meant to stay and what we need to rid our souls of.

Not too long ago, I spoke to a friend about my ghost that lingered behind, and how I felt it was time to lay his image to rest. I have come to see that I was wrong, and instead, I must offer my hand in assistance. It must be my own doing that pulls me out from the depths of my past, and points the way to my future. Alone, I am incomplete and partially assembled, but in making myself, I am stand united and ready to make the journey home. I am so much closer with every passing day, and every morning brings with it renewed hope. Loosen the reins, my man, and let your spirit ride free again.

So, once more, a time is upon me. Actually, it is not once again...it is something I have never been through. To fashion a portion of my soul so it is hollow; a place where the feelings of dis-ease rest before they are dealt with. Once resolved, through rightness and clear vision, I can relinquish them, and release their hold on me.

To my friend on the ground level, I want you to realize that you are closer than you may think. You are on a path of reason, even though it may not seem so right now...at times like these. That is why our time is one of separation; of paths diverging, only to meet again down the road. You know what is more amazing than that? We both know what lies waiting in our future. It always has been, and is now up to only us to walk the last steps.

Hold on McGinty. Hold on.

"Caught the waves wrinkle the moon, and they kissed my body just beyond the shore
I talked you into a stone and skipped you across the water...but it was me who was really sinking.
Lay me down
Down on the bottom
Come crashing over me
You'll be a dancer as I try to catch you."
- Wide Mouth Mason

Life in satori...

It is hard at times, times like these, that is...to sit down and study while my mind wanders and my soul experiences images of wanderlust. For some reason, during my rampant Biology session, I had a flash of being in Thailand - warm waters falling from the sky all around us. I say us because there was a girl with me, although I could not see her face, but did have her wrapped up in my arms. Huh...so what does that say? That Thailand is on the future map and that I may see it before this life is done? That I may hold a woman there in a warm, protective embrace and only then will my vision make sense to me? I have this crazy bug-ass imagination that is always running wild, and sometimes it even runs wild while carrying scissors - a dangerous act, I tell you; running wild with scissors because that is how accidents happen and the sane become dubbed the insane. But, back to Thailand, and that girl again...nah, forget it. I will just wait until it happens, and it will happen because I know how my life takes these crazy turns when I least expect them to. The last two years have been full of ups and downs; a crazy roller coaster that has not even reached its half-way mark yet...and is only gathering steam.

Let me start from the beginning for you, my dear readers. About five years ago, I had a dream...not your normal, every-night, sort of occurrence, but, one so real and so true, that it scared me. So, I decided to follow it, to see what might happen if I did. You see, my dream was about a girl, and this girl is the one that I will meet in this lifetime. Many have asked how I know this, and I can only answer that I just know, you know? So, if you don't know, now you know...sorry, I have a tendency to be a fool at times. She had long brown hair, soft eyes, a sexy smile, and a person comfortable in her own skin. She looked at me in a way I have always wanted to be looked at, and I remember sitting and talking with her on some bleachers...then I woke up and she was gone. You ever have that happen before? You meet someone in your sleeping hours, yet somehow know you will meet them again in your waking days? So, anyway, I had the dream, knew I had to find her, and was deciding what I was going to do next - you know, where would I go, when would I start, and all those logistics. Then it happened one random night while I was driving home and listening to a new CD. There was this one song, you see, and it was all about this dream a guy had, and how it involved this girl...how everything she said made sense, and that he knew who she was; yet why he dreamed of her was something he did not have the answer for. It was that night that I realized my life had a purpose, that it had meaning to it, and I saw that I had to embark on a journey...and I have been on it ever since. It was as if some unseen force began pushing me from behind, moving me forward with so much hurriedness; telling me to start now, not yesterday, but today.

That was over five years ago, and in those five years I have come to see so many sights that they have become some of my favorite things...sunsets so beautiful that they look as if painted upon a canvas sky, watching the dawn rise in a sprinkling of dust over the Canadian Rockies, chasing waves across a sandy beach in the beginning hours of nightfall, riding a field of white powder, and so many shared times of laughter with friends. I even survived death in between those years...now, here I am, once again. I came back to the place I always knew I would return, and believed that I had taken the necessary steps to be with her; a time for us together. But, once again, I was wrong. I have come to see that my reason for returning back to my roots was to only silence, yet again, another ghost. Then, I met her...and my world is once more turned upside-down, inside-out, and my dreams are no longer welcome to me.

My friends will read this, and most likely laugh because they already know the story...you know what, though? For the time being, I will be placing it on my top shelf, so it can no longer be a distraction to this lone, sometimes weary traveller. I will be concentrating on other projects, other ideas that need my attention instead. That is not to say it is being forgotten, but only being put on hold...for now. My road awaits.

"Reality is wrong. Dreams are for real."
- Tupac Shakur

Coffee stained thoughts...

Ever find yourself up late, and with so many thoughts in your head that you cannot sleep? Yup, so here I am, in that same spot right now, and so unsure as what to write...makes me think of what the defiler of shoes wrote - about writing with a purpose and not just for a journal. So, okay, I am going to delve right into the nitty-gritty of it all.

What do y'all know about drugs? Have you ever taken any? Known someone who has or been around someone on them? I am not talking about marijuana here, peeps, I am talking about the hard stuff...coke, E, Special K, shrooms, crank, meth, speed, whatever your flavour may be. Do you think it to be innocuous and a basic little "hobby" or "something to do?" Do not fool yourselves, kids, it is more than you will ever make it out to be. I am not up here on my portable soap-box, spouting off rhetoric for the sake of hearing my own voice - although it does take a sexy deep timbre late at night - I am speaking from experience, from self-acquired knowledge. I believe there is nothing wrong with smoking a joint now and then, or even imbibing in some well-earned nights of drinking or partying. We all need to blow off steam, somehow, someway, at times. No, I am talking about letting something control your life, where you need to get "high" to have fun, to enjoy your life...to make your time here go by that much faster. Drugs are bad, mmmkay? They take away from what you already have; they take your mind, your freedom, your existence. I know, peeps, I know they do...Let me tell you a small story, okay?

So, there I was, all messed up on drugs, having a good time, and not caring about where my life was headed. I had amazing friends, a nice girlfriend, two jobs, and was thoroughly enjoying my time on earth. Or was that just the drugs telling me that? Huh, anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, I used to get so high that the only thing that mattered was how long the high would last for, and where we could get more drugs...sound familiar to anyone? The new year was up and coming, and we were partying like it was 1999...wait a second, it was 1999. Huh, funny that. So, anyway, you guys do not want to hear the rest, it is not important; it only involves me getting right messed up on way too many narcotics, detaching myself from my friends, getting lost, and oh yeah...some time after that ending up hurting myself real real bad. Who of you want to hear a story like that? One of a life-altering-occurrence that opened up this cat's eyes, and made my future loom so true and close, that all I could do was place one foot in front of the other and follow my new path. Changed my life so much that I came to see that we can all change our lives if we want; with or without the drugs, preferably without. I have a tattoo on my upper left shoulder - well, almost all of my left shoulder actually - that is how I look at my life...the phoenix that arises from the ashes of its former self; stronger, faster, and ready for what comes next. Funny what I will write when I have no idea what to say hey?

If you are curious, do not know who I am, and want to hear my stories, then leave a comment for me pertaining to them. If you know me, but do not know that story and want to hear it, then leave a comment saying so and I will more than happily oblige. Until then, I will not allow this to be my online journal, but sometimes...things have a funny way of working out, right? Right.

"Cocaine is God's way of saying you are making too much money."
- Robin Williams

Lifting of the fog...

There I was, standing on a rooftop and gaining another perspective on the city that is Halifax. J2 and I were taking a break from our monumentous night of nine hours of studying for Stats, when we went up to his rooftop for a breather. On our first trip, the condensation was so low, we could barely see anything and the ocean was non-existent in sight. It reminded me of days jogging on the beach in Tofino, when I would run along the sand and not be able to see the ocean for the fog. It was weird to hear it at my feet but not be able to see it; until later that morning when the fog would lift like a nun's habit on her wedding night. When the next time we went for a smoke, the fog has disappeared and we could see all of Bedford, the Bridge, and the lights sprinkled across the water...it was so peaceful, and my heart so in need of some minor quiet. Then we returned once again to study stats - yay for stats!! Yay!!

My time up top made me think of where I can go with my creativity - I stood there and bounced ideas off of Jordan, and what I want to start up as my business. I stayed up late after he had gone to sleep...finished my studying, and placed pen to paper to make some designs. Damn, I think I may have something here...Nelly, you reading this? If I talk to you after you see this, we need to talk, and I need to bounce shit off of you...like always. The long run of it is that I can honour my Boy Lennie in a time - respected fashion that will be more than a trend; more than a fad for everyone to know who he was, and what will remain of his soul. At the same time I can go about the task of making myself so when you all meet me, you will know who I am. I know, I know, I am not exactly giving out real information, but it will be up and coming in the next six months. Just hold on McGinty. Hold on.

I may have found my purple elephant.

"Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved."
- William Jennings Bryan

Falling raindrops...

I stood there, in the freezing rain and falling snow, outside the church. Inside they were saying mass for my friend, and outside there was standing room only, and many were standing in the cold to pay their respects...saying goodbye to Lennie. I walked down to the cove and just reflected on so many things; anything to get my mind up and away from where it was. How do you say goodbye to someone like him? I never got enough time to truly know him, but the time we had, we made the most of. Does he know how many people were there, and if so, does he also know how he touched so many souls? I held Nelly close, tried to be strong, and payed my respects to my man. I, I, I...I am at a lost for words to express my emotions, both mingled in with sadness and also anger. Anger at the fact that his child will never know their father, and will only have information from the man that is now becoming part myth, part legend. What did Nelly say? That it will be a happy day when his child is born for no matter where they go, they will always be protected and watched over.

Tears fell from so many eyes, and even the tough shed some salt. How could we not? A life so young that did not have to leave our presence, did not have a need to be taken in such a violent manner. I am starting to find some closure, find some sense in all the madness, and continue on with my life. It is the only thing to do, to take the life that we have and live it for ourselves...to travel foreign soils, meet new faces, and always keep those close to us close in our hearts. The last time I stood in standing-room only was at my friend Steve-O's funeral, and once again, there was so many people to say goodbye to an angel that was taken before their time. Keep each other company until I arrive guys, and then we can share all the stories when we meet again.

Time will pass but your memory never will, your laugh always in my thoughts, and I look ahead to the awaiting future; the falling drops of rain that soon will give away to a rainbow of hope.

Rest in peace Len-dog, and rest assured you are missed.

"Develop an interest in life as you see it; the people, things, literature, music - the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich tresures, beautiful souls and interesting people."
- Henry Miller

What now?

So, I found out my confirmation last night, the one about my friend. You ready for this? He was murdered, then dumped into a dumpster like yesterday's trash, and then set on fire. Who the fuck does that? Who has it in them to take a life and pretend it is nothing? He was on a path of self-alignment, a path of new life, and now he has nothing to leave behind but a legacy of grief. Yeah, I am hurting right now, but I also feel myself shutting down, and turning away from the outside world. All I want are my friends, the ones that understand, and everyone else can go fuck themselves. Is that too much for you? Let me tell you this...it is too much for me.

All around me I feel my world falling apart - from my faded, torn jeans, to my once solid friendship, to the very bottom of my soul. There is so much hurt right now that I cannot even feel it, which only means I will one day in the future...when I least expect it. Do you know what it is that I am really going to miss about Lennie? That I never got a chance to really know him...I was only there for the rising of his spirit and the crashing of his fall. Damn, this is not supposed to be this way, people, we do not say goodbye to our friends in this manner. They are meant to be around when you achieve your success, to relish your ideas, and see you home until the end. Fuck it, fuck it all; just fuck it. Don't let these moments pass you by, do not let the people that mean something to you go unnoticed. Tell them what they mean to you, show them they are important, and never forget what being a friend means.

"Scrawled upon the wall of a bathroom stall
A stranger wrote a note that spoke to all...
One, two, buckle my shoe - take care of me because I might be you."
- Red Hot Chili Peppers