Delusion of Reprieve

There should have been an ultimate feeling of reprieve but there wasnt, maybe because it wasnt the end. It was only the beginning of the end. So in my own way I embraced the reprieve or my delusions by picking up my favourite book, obviously where the title of this rambling came from.

It fascinates me in a tragic way. Human suffering is terrible, yet we can learn so much. Nothing I go through can even compare to Auschwitz. I wish I remembered that everyday. I also wish I remembered the lessons better. I somehow can selfishly compare my trials to theres, maybe in an attempt to connect, and only to try and learn, so maybe it isnt out of selfishness. I learn so much everytime I pick up the book though. I am sure my fellow train goers must think I am nuts the way I pore over it. I just cant help but understand, or at least try to, how they seeked for anything that would indicate that it wasnt that bad. They searched for any element of hope, only to have everything stripped away from them. Literally everything. They were left with nothing physical, nothing to hold onto, unless they had hope, unless they had something to live for.

I think that in those moments that seem darkest we are best to do that, to remember all of the things we have to hold onto. I will never understand their suffering or how anyone could bring it upon them. But I will never cease trying to learn from such experiences. So even though I delusion myself when the darkness envelops I am okay with that, it shows a common thread of humanity and reminds me to hold onto hope.

The Dream That Wasn't Bad

As aforementioned, probably a zillion plus 3.7 times before, I have a lot of psycho dreams, and by psycho I mean dreams where people try and murder me. And the thing is that my dreams are always of such nature. They are never joyful. They arent like dreams you want to dream. They are ones that you wouldnt want to dream but for some reason your mind decides to terrorize you. So imagine my utter shock when I had a dream that was actually wonderful. It was exactly like a dream come true.

I was at a Yellowcard concert (not my previous blog post ending in an apology over my current Yellowcard obsession). And then the concert ended and for some reason the band was asking me to hangout. And I was like uhm maybe not. And they were all come on. And I was like uhh not tonight. So I started leaving with my friend (what an idiot right). So then as I left one of them caught me in the hall and I was super psyched and so I gave in and we hung out. And then I was like dating one of the guys in the band and hanging out with all of their cool friends. It was awesome.

And then I woke up and realized I am not dating someone in Yellowcard, bummer.

But the moral of the story is that it is possible for me to have happy dreams, major breakthrough!

Ocean Avenue

The  music rings through as my feet hit the pavement and it is like the world transforms. It was the summer after grade ten. I was driving and had a job selling fruit. The truck was a tank, it was older and stronger than me and was basically a metal monster. It was hardcore, kinda like me. I would drive out to that parking lot, settle in with a book and my "i love surfer boy" flip flops and tan to a darker shade of white. It was full of sun, fruit, and memories. Even the first moments of the song remind me of that summer. The BC cherries and the Taber corn, things you can only appreciate if you know the region, were just what supplied the monetary part of it, but it really means nothing. It was a summer of memories, mostly insignificant but so entwined to this song. It makes me think of the exact 5 cent candies I would get from seven eleven on the days I had tips, the livewires were the best. I remember the smell of the grease from Macdonalds wafting across the pavement and the fact that the beasty truck rarely started without a boost. It was what I consider the quintessential teenage summer. And I love the fact that I can remember so much of it with just a few beautiful words and notes.

ps I may blog about yellowcard incessantly until their new album comes out because I am so overly stoked.

Word Association, A Goodnight Story

When conversations lull or drives full of longevity need lightening I find all of those stupid word games to be thrilling. Actually, I just like them all the time. I am like a child I know. I even have a mocking voice I use when copying someone like a 4 year old would. So as I perused the mission Motion City songs from my life I felt the need to work associate a story. I am a focused studier in case you didnt know. So welcome to tonights goodnight story.

The mirror felt cheated. The apples sat on the other side, away from the cheese yet out of the mirrors reach. What a tease. Snacking was so dull from the other side. It was like watching a movie smelling popcorn but not being able to have any. Cruel. Unforgiving in a sense, like a mistake  you want to make but cant. Maybe that was a protective form of Karma. Regardless, the mirror felt mocked. So it did the only thing it could, combusted. Not into flames, that would be ridiculous, just shattering, like seven years of bad luck. And that is why you shouldnt place apples by mirrors. xo

Gluten Free Fairies

It was always nice to wake up to stickers and a monetary coin under the pillow, even though it had meant something was lost. Compensation for loss makes loss more bareable. That is why we have toothfairies.

So where the heck is my gluten free fairy?! Today I found two of my favourite things on sale- Pringles and Double Stuff Oreos. I am pretty sure I was dying inside with the battle that began. Would I indulge in such deliciousness or would I forgo it knowing that my body probably couldnt tolerate it. As I began to feel sick thinking about it I sauntered down the aisle with my head hung not noticing the people staring at my muscle pants.

As I walked through the dark path between the shops and the place I call home I wondered what kind of compensation there would be for my lack of gluten. So far it seems to just be nothing, except perhaps a lack of vomitting, but that doesnt really cut it. I feel like when you cant have awesome things you should get stickers or monetary coins or something to lessen the blow. The blow does not feel lessened. I just feel cheated.

I usually pretend I dont care that I cant eat gluten but I totally do, it sucks. So if I find out the doctor was wrong and gluten was not the cause of such a portion of my illness I will punch someone in the head.

(Insert TMI Story Caption Here)

"Oh my gosh like did I tell you about how my cousins uncles grandmas friend died? Like it was the worst. (insert tears here)"

Please do not share these stories with me. I do not want to feel a forced bond that requires me to care. I would like to stay on the periphery of aquantainceship unless otherwise stated. Isnt that how it should be? I dont understand why people have the compulsion to share overly personal things and cry with strangers or in public. It does not make sense. It is entirely forcing the attention on you and making people feel bad for not caring. I do care, but not like that about strangers. And I like it that way. I dont have enough heart space to be worrying about every single person I have said hello to's sad story. I need some time for silence and my own life.

It just is not making sense to me. I think I should run a seminar on the allergy of emotions and how beneficial it is, especially since it is an acquired allergy, which really is more like a cure. Maybe that would solve these situations I keep finding myself trapped in.

The Heart is At The Home

Sometimes I pretend I am not homesick. I think reality is that I will always be homesick when I am not at home. And home doesnt have to mean that place where I grew up, it mostly just means whatever place my family is at. I forget how much I miss them until something happens. Like today when I woke up to a video of my sister falling off a chair, video two was her unable to get up, the best part was probably that my brother just sat there filming hahaha. How can you not miss things like that? If I was there I would have been the one laughing in the background, every funny video needs that person. I miss their laughter and the fact that we could play stupid games or sit by the fire or watch the bachelor(ette).

I am known for running, running away from reality. I get up and go when things get too hard. Yet it appears that no matter how far I go all I really want is to be back at home, to be able to get in stupid fights and to make poems about secret lovers.

They say home is where the heart is, I think the heart is at the home. My family is super rad, and I really wish I could just get up and go home and say stupid things that they would laugh at because I am really funny. I think I am homesick.

Like Talking to A Brick Wall

So exact and surprising coming out of the mouth of my grandmother, she has always had a way with words though. Apparently I am not prone to following advice in certain regards. C'est la vie. Plus I like being a brick wall. Brick walls are known for their strength, and they have such a vintage beauty. I would love to have a brick wall or two in my future house of awesomeness (stupid pinterest getting me all interest in homely things). So perhaps I will continue to be brick like, fierce and ready for whatever is coming. Plus without brick walls how would parkour have become? I dont even know. So hurrah for the walls made of bricks.

A Note To The Jinxed, Cursed and Superstitious

I step over cracks, consciously. Yet have never considered myself to be superstitious or any of the other things sitting in that category. But why else avoid cracks? I mean I just dont want my mother to break her back, that's all.

I never really understood the concept of being cursed or a jinx but I think I can visualize it now. If crazy things happen around you frequently there are only two things you can think.

1. Your life is the Truman Show
2. You are jinxed/cursed etc

I have always just thought number one, and that hasnt changed, I am pretty sure that my life is basically the Truman show, I mean that would explain a LOT.

But for all the rest of the people that think the other way, I can understand it. We want logicallity for why things happen. And if I didnt know better I would think that there was something around me causing crazy things, like how yesterday it appeared that another person jumped off the bridge known for those ready to end their life. And then today there was a crazy car accident outside work. I mean I get how people draw conclusions. But I am pretty sure that life hands us enough hardships and crazy things that there is no reason to add others to it. We cant be responsible for all those things that surround us, expect for the ones that we cause, but really the rest are all done by the shows producers.

You have to get the ratings up somehow!

And To Think That I Saw It On Mulberry Street

The day was warm and the sky blue with clouds hinting at grey. There was sort of peace on the boat as it cruised along the waterfront properties. As the Story Bridge drew near a story was relayed of a drunken fool jumping off it and dislocating shoulders, breaking ribs, and ruining knees. You see the bridge is rather high, and by rather I mean very. The story elicited a shocked response and wonderings of how foolish alcohol can  make people. As the thoughts tumbled around a small boat was noticed with a kayak approaching. Then a man could be seen in the water. It was unclear what was happening. First thoughts were that it was some kind of lesson. However, you wouldnt have someone in the water, especially not in a river with bull sharks. So it was illogical. As the boat drew nearer to the place of interest the picture became a fraction clearer. The kayak had come up to the boat and tied onto it and the passenger was now on the boat. The man originally on the boat was holding onto some part of what looked like a life jacket, inside the lifesaving looking object was the man, still in the water. This was confusing and led to many wonderings of all passengers on the larger boat. Then the cops could be seen running along the river bank towards the incident. Next thing the kayak passenger was holding onto the top of the lifejacket with the man in it (still in the water) and the boat driver was bringing the boat to shore. 

Conclusions can be made as to what happened. And as such conclusions are drawn it just makes me think of a beloved childhood story. And it makes me wonder what reality was and what is just foolish imaginings to create a greater story. 

(note only the facts are depicted and to the best of my failing memory)

Like Razors They Cut Through Her Heart

The imagery is exact. The feelings understood. I dont know that my own words could describe the pain better. It is that time of year, my least favourite day, and maybe it crosses the realm of personalness to be shared but this is my life and somehow maybe acknowledging my baggage and pain and sadness is real in this moment it will become a stone for stepping.

So here's the thing, I am very forgetful. Even memorable things fade. Yet somehow I cannot forget a detail of that day. I can tell you what dress I wore. Where I was when I saw I had a voicemail. That I knew something was wrong. I didnt learn anything in the third hour. I felt sick. I walked home and called. I remember trying to understand. Trying not to lose control although the tears poured. I remember hanging up and breaking down on the sidewalk. I remember the exact place I sat. The phone call I made. I remember getting into the car and being taken home. I walked in and got my keys tried to call someone else and with no answer went to their home anyways. I remember the door opening, asking for the mother and her knowing I wasnt okay. I sat with those parents. They werent mine and their daughter who was like a sister was abroad. Yet they were the only place I could go. I remember the texts, eating, watching scrubs and crying with my soulmate. The day is carved like razors through my heart. The pain is still as aching as it was two years ago.

The days and months that followed involved a lot of tears, sleepless nights and seeking comfort. And somehow I never expected that I would still be feeling in that same position. Time is supposed to heal. So why cant it just heal? So today is one of the few days of the year where I decide it is okay to let it hurt. It is okay to feel. It is okay to feel the pain, because it is real. And maybe it has to stay vivid until I learn the right lesson. And maybe it is so I realize how many people in a heartbeat stopped their lives because my world came crashing down. So as sad as I am I feel incredibly blessed that even in those moments when I couldnt imagine feeling more alone I am not.

So as much as it feels like razors I feel a small sense of hope in the sadness because I know that it all has a purpose, I just may not understand it yet.

Life Flashing

Everyone hears that when you die your whole life flashes past. I have never died so I cannot verify if that has any truth. But I am pretty sure sometimes your whole future can flash before you. I think this because it might have just happened to me. And because of that I will have to post multiple times because this is not what I was thinking but now all of a sudden I forget what awesome thing I was about to write about, maybe I will remember. But back to life flashing.

The surrounding facts are unimportant as I was doing nothing abnormal, basically just waiting for the Lauren Bars to finish baking. Then it happened. I saw what was going to happen. And it was scary in an oddly reassuring way. I think it was sparked by an offhand comment at lunch. The flashing involved realizations. In one week I will only have one more exam and then I will be done more course work. Then it is just 5 months of placements a final exam and graduation. During the period of havoc and chaos known as placements I will be applying and interviewing for jobs, like a grown up. That could begin in as early as one months time. And I realized my birthday is about to happen and I am training for a marathon and by December I will be grown up and have achieved goals and hopefully have a real job. And all of a sudden I didnt feel so young and childish. It was like I saw  myself growing up in a moment. And then it ended and I took my baking out and went back to life. Except I went back a little less scared about the future. I think sometimes life flashes are blessings for faith, it is like a preview to entice you to the movie, but instead it is enticing you to keep on the path of your life. 

I think the next 7 months are about to be crazy.

Nobody Told Her She Would Lose In The First Round

The last fight was fixed from the start.

Sometimes it feels like that. That when failure falls upon us that it was destined. Sometimes I wish I knew in the first round so I could spend my energies elsewhere. I think this may be how I feel. I feel like I am losing fights I dont even know I am in. Today was just one of those fixed fight days so instead of relaying my self defined lose I will tell a story.

One time there was a bear. And there was a squirrel. And they were friends. One tuesday they decided to go to their favourite creek to look for acorns and fish. The best acorns were always near the banks as the acorn trees were the most watered up. So there they were. The bear hurled right into the water while the squirrel began squirreling. Oddly they were having no luck with their food finding. And then the day got cold suddenly. It was a blizzard out of no where. The bear and the squirrel didnt know what to do. They were far from their woodland home and had nothing warm besides their fur and they were hungry. As the blizzard became a white out they realized they were lost and lonely and cold and hungry and it was miserable. If only they had known they would have stayed home. And then in their complete misery they realized that at least they had each other and they were not alone. As this realization began to become clear an acorn fell in front of them and the blizzard began to fade. And all was well with the bear and the squirrel. Until one day when there was no food so the bear ate the squirrel.

Sometimes when I find myself post lost fight and wondering how it happened or just feeling lonely and defeated I can remember wise words from a loving mother who told me to look for the Lord's tender mercies. So as I walked through the store to purchase paper for my printer and found my favourite candy-previously not found in the country of current residence- I felt the tender mercy and realized I am not alone. Regardless of how defeated and lonely some days get I think it is important to remember that we are never alone and that the Lord is always acutely aware of our exact circumstance. So maybe sometimes I need a good blow of defeat to keep me humble and realizing how blessed I am.

I wonder if bears and squirrels think about things like this.

Eighth Grade Christmas

It was math class, I even remember the teacher, who's son is coincidentally friends with my little sister now, and it was Christmas time. My friend gave me a present. It was lightbulb earrings. I loved them. The only issue was my ears werent pierced. You would think that by 13 I would have gotten to that. I hadnt. So I went home and told my mother I wanted them pierced. She said I would have to wait 6 months and if I still wanted them then I could get them done. I was shocked. Hello, at 13 I knew what I wanted. And my older sister had hers done when she was like 9 or 10 so it seemed ridiculous. Her reasoning was something along the lines that it was because I change my mind frequently, and usually think I really want something one day and then the next forget about it.

She may never have been more right about anything. As I sit here, with pierced ears that I still do like but waited at least 6 months for, I realize this. I am a very fleeting person. I feel interested for a moment then entirely forget about it. I am not sure how you change something like that but with the 20/20 vision hindsight is sporting me I can see it has left a trail of minor disasters.

This actually happens a shocking amount. Like how I wanted to change my major to photography and now havent touched my camera in over a year. Or how I can think I love someone one day and the next realize we have nothing in common and entirely forget about it. Or the way I can to be in Africa one day and then Europe the next and then forget both and get caught up in Israel.

The only explanation is that I want so many things my brain just cant compute so I just focus on one insanely for a short period then I overload and move on. However this doesnt explain the guy thing. How can I ever marry someone when I cant even decide if I like someone for more than a day? Or if I do like them for several days I find it so easy to forget them when the door closes. I feel like that will be an issue when I am back in a world that involves dates.

At least in the meantime I have a lot of really amazing earrings to remind me that on occasion I can want something long term.

I Wish I Could Find the Words to Say

Today, well now it would be yesterday as with the times and all it is now the day there that it is here, was a day of birth celebration day. I actually dont know if it was a celebration. I dont actually know much about it at all, or maybe even anything. And I am not sure how I feel about that. If I wasnt allergic to emotion I would probably write something like how having the grand canyon of all relationshipal divides is sad or heart breaking. But I maybe just feel nothing because feeling something would be too much. I do not understand how the brain works in relation to coping. It is fascinating and confusing and amazing how the brain can just shut things out so the body can thrive. I probably should have done more but this year I just couldnt. And I want to say I will never regret that but one day I may. So all the words I can find to say are that whatever day this is, if its yesterday or now I choose to look out for me instead of you because that is the only way I know how to cope.

I hope that in whatever place you were that you enjoyed it.

21,998 km, 180 days 17 hours

 And only 16, 083 of those kms are kayaking across the pacific ocean (obviously split into three separate sessions as Japan and Hawaii inbetween.

And yet it feels like a million miles somedays. I suppose reality doesnt always or even often align with thoughts of perceptions. Today was one of those days. I just felt so far away from home, and for some reason knowing it would take 180 days to walk there and I would have to learn to kayak first just seemed discouraging. It was as if I was on another planet. One where all of the fun things from other planets are broadcast but not offered.

So there I was. Feeling frustrated with the situation and wishing I was home. Or maybe even just wishing that someone understood what home was like. And not just any home but my home. I wanted to be able to relate to someone and for them to be able to laugh about the things and places that meant something. And then it happened. In the weirdest way.

I was at church. Which is very typical for a Sunday. The atypical part was I had a friend with me from a different faith, so I had stopped to talk to the missionaries for a moment and it wound up into a whos who between my friend and the missionaries. And while they spoke I felt like I knew this missionary, like I someone had a connection but then I attributed it to one of two things. It was either we had seen each other in passing as we had established months before we had a physics class together many moons ago, or it was because I think Asians look similar. I know that sounds racist but I wouldnt be upset if someone told me Caucasians looked similar so I am standing by it. So there I stood entirely spaced out and trying to figure out why this name and person seemed familiar.

Honestly I spent the next two hours wondering. And then we were sitting across a table and I blurted it out. It was not a smooth segway. It was a "do you know sophie?" And then it all spilled out like a blender without a top on it. He not only knew Sophie but knew her well and Natalya. He then described the colour of my old house and how he had been there and then we suddenly knew a mass of the same people and had both been at Natalya's wedding, both opening Taco boxes. Which means we had definitely met. And I had met his sister several times as she was close with the two girls I love. It all came out. He was at the wedding I missed. And We had swimmer friends that were the same and he tutored a diver friend of mine and it was insane. And it felt like the world was just the world and not another planet. And it made my life feel real again.

Sometimes it feels like I have been gone for so long that none of those happy times existed or mattered. It feels like that wasnt part of this life and that they are separate and that that life has forgotten me. And so in those few minutes while we were stunned and putting together far too many ties it made it seem real. Really real.

Maybe 180 days walking distance from home is okay because it is still home and it will never forget me. And maybe it is okay to be homesick.

Missed Memos

It has taken me nearly two years to realize it but I think I missed the memo. In my previous life I went to a university where my graduating year had 6147 students and 56% were married. You can guess which end of that percentage I was on. At the time there were jokes about me missing the point of my four years there as I had not found a husband. I laughed them on in a lavish rich person way, at least that is how I am recreating it, ah ha ha ha ha (imagine it lavishly). So off I went. Unmarried and without ties to tie or just ties. So then I did the sensible thing and chose to pursue even further education. Welcome to my life. As said life continued I read a lot of things and didnt consider myself as having missed reading something. Until now.

I must have missed a memo. That is the only explanation. Almost every single person I knew well during my years as an undergrad has a spouse. You may think I am exaggerating but I am not. I would say there are about 5 people graduated from the aforementioned attended school that I know that are not married. Even my friends little sibilings are getting engaged. This leads me to the thought that maybe that was a place for marriage. Maybe I should have spent more time dating and less time in the library. And if everyone I know has found their husband there then where do I find one?

Maybe that was one memo I shouldnt have missed.