I am so glad the Blogger text editor has a "backspace" button, as the button on my keypad fell off after I dropped my laptop yesterday. Urg.

I wonder what it would be like, if my plans stayed on course for a change. I feel as if all these unexpected twists and turns are only making me crazier, I am locked in battle with the inevitable deterioration of my plans, choosing alternate routes and strategies on a nearly weekly basis. It's become exhausting. 

My impatience was removed after my mother's aneurysm, of course. I suppose the prospect of nearly losing the most important person in my life was enough to remind me that I musn't always be in such a damn hurry to do things. I returned to Canada, comfortable with my decision to put my plans on hold for a few months and focus on taking care of my mother, as well as working as much as humanly possible in order to keep myself busy and alleviate some of my debt before school. But as I should have come to expect, nothing goes as planned for long, but this was a real shock to everyone - my co workers and I were all informed that our store was being closed, due to conflicts with the developer of the complex we were attached to. After about 8 years of slowly building the two condos in the complex, they decided to halt further development, violating the agreement with our company to finish the project. 

We were given two days before they closed the doors for good. Anyone who knows me, knows how much pride I take in my work, and how very much I loved this particular job. I was devastated, to say the least. We were all promised placement at different locations, but what made my job so wonderful was the amazing people I worked with. This brought up a lot of fear and insecurity, I have such a difficult time relating to other people, especially in a work setting. Most jobs I have had over the years, I've felt like an outcast and entirely unappreciated. This job was my stability, my escape. I could put all I had into my work and feel a sense of accomplishment and pride at the end of the day, considering the only time I leave my house is for work. 

The girls and I had a sort of wake on the Friday the store closed. It was actually a lot of fun and I didn't turn into an awful emotional drunk. It wasn't until the next day that I went to a very bad place. I ended up with some awful throat and sinus infection, and spent the next week in bed being a miserable, useless lump. I felt a sort of hopelessness I hadn't felt in well over a year, it scared the hell out of me. I read all the wrong sort of books that week, ones that only further validated my sense of meaninglessness. It took going into my store to help pack things up to pull me out of my hole.

I was offered a new job with some of my co workers at a new store that is quite far from my house. I decided that the best idea would be to move to that area. Now I am moving into a lovely house with one of my co workers, and by coincidence, a long lost childhood friend. I am still unsure how long I will be staying here, I suppose everything depends on a lot of things at the moment, the sort of uncertainty I really dislike, but a reality I will have to come to terms with. I will be going back to Los Angeles in a few weeks to retrieve my car. I am defintely not looking forward to this, especially considering my last trek down there was plagued with confusion and heart break. I am hoping to have some money put aside by then to at least enjoy the long road trip back up to Canada.

Here are some photos from New Years Eve at Broken City.

My lovely ladies of Puberty reunited for a special show, along with good pals the Sharp Ends.

Lot's of friends home for the holidays from school, it was so wonderful to see everyone!

I must have kissed 30 people at midnight. Love all around!

Jen Clement and I <3

 Jen and Sydney: Photo by yours truly

Candid hand warming shot?

Sydney and I lookin' snazzy

Sydney, Jen and Nicole. The Pubes.

Sydney and myself filling in on vocals

Sharp Ends; Friend noise jam encore takeover

December. A series of setbacks, one after the other. I find myself 2 months behind schedule now.

Disappointed, but on the other hand, I am slightly relieved to have a little extra time to prepare. I feel useless here, I no longer have any interest in trying to make any sort of life for myself in this place, so I am left to anxiously wait out the days. My only purpose of being here right now is to work, to lessen my debt load. My frustration is increased now that my work hours have been cut from 40 hours a week to 8. As soon as I received my new schedule I booked a flight out of here, may as well if I am not working for an entire week. I know I am a resourceful person, this shouldn't be an issue for me, I have never had a problem finding work and making money when I need to. At this particular time I feel mentally exhausted, my subconscious seems to have given up on me. That little voice inside of me that kicks my ass whenever I lose my drive has left me.

 These days I find myself back and forth from work to home. When I'm not working, I only feel a desire to play guitar in my room. There isn't really much else to do and at least writing songs gives me a sense of accomplishment. The other benefit is that it serves as a major distraction from people, which tends to consume much of my thinking when I allow it to do so. I am fighting to keep myself on a stable plateau. I fear any lulls between distractions, I find myself thinking about things I should not bother even thinking about.

I remember a time, before medication, when my mind wandered always towards the negative. I have the opposite problem these days. My heart is filled with fond reminiscence, where before would have been sadness and negativity. Perhaps I am too optimistic at times, believing I have the ability to change specific circumstances. I often feel as if I could take over the world if I so wished. Most likely a result of making such a drastic life change in such a brief period of time. In this case, I often wish I would dwell more upon the negative as to focus on the lessons I should have learned.

All in all, everything is very much up in the air. Part of me likes not knowing exactly how things are going to turn out. I have always loved surprises.

Hello to all,

First of all I would like to thank everyone who took the time to express their gratitude and understanding. I cannot begin to explain how awful I felt knowing that I had unintentionally caused hurt to family and friends. I apologize for not being able to respond to everyone individually, this week has been nothing short of an emotional roller coaster. But please know that I appreciate your strength and kindness, more than I can say in words.

After commenting on a Calgary Herald article, I was contacted by a reporter from the National Post who had googled my full name. I have never been fond of journalists, and I was reluctant to agree to an interview. On one hand, I didn't want to disrespect the girls, and their families by commenting on the event. But on the other hand, I wanted to explain what happened, to give closure to those who most likely still had a lot of questions about what had happened. Most of all, I wanted to present a clear picture of just how much of a freak accident this was, to prevent the girls from being villanized by the media.

I returned the reporter's phone call, wherein I agreed to give a detailed account of the incident. I basically reiterated from the beginning what I had experienced that day, save the philosophical ramblings about the fragility of human life. I explained what we saw when we first came upon the crash, and what had ultimately led me to stop and try to help. I was careful not to say things that could potentially be exploited in order to sell more newspapers, I told only the plain facts without going into unnecessary detail.

I mentioned in passing, the affect the event had on me and how the most effective way for me to deal with my pain, is to write. I told her I had gotten drunk in order to be honest with myself and true to my emotions, and that I had written a blog entry reflecting that. I never gave the reporter permission to quote my blog entry, or post a link to it. In my mind, it was in very poor taste considering she must have read the entry and should have concluded that including my personal account of the event would be insensitive to the people who were close to the girls.

My personal blog was never meant to be read by anyone beside my close friends. The night after the crash I had no idea who any of the people involved were, and never thought that they would be people who were so incredibly close to me. The morning the National Post contacted me, I learned that 3 of the girls involved were not only friends of many of my mutual friends, but also people who I had met on several occasions. My perception seemed to turn inside out.

Before knowing their identities, I felt a sense of loneliness in all of it. In that moment you feel the purest form of love there is, love of humanity. You realize your ability to love someone regardless of their significance in your own life, you love them because in so many ways they are just like you, and more importantly, so incredibly different and unique in the world.

I wish I could reverse any damage that was caused to others by my vivid recollection of it all. The pain of those memories is for me alone, and I will carry them with me for the rest of my life. They never should have been shared with the close friends and family of the girls who were lost. I only hope that they will remember how they lived, and how happy and beautiful and incredible they were. Emma, Cayley and Joi brought so much good to those around them, and I feel those who had the opportunity to be a part of their lives, are truly truly blessed.

As always, I send all my love to those who have to grieve the loss of Emma Ransom, Cayley Chapman, and Joi Edgar. Three beautiful angels in heaven, and they are guiding you with all of their strength love, and grace.

The entry regarding the crash south of Nanton has been removed out of respect to the family and friend's of the beautiful, talented, young girls who lost their lives on Saturday.


No permission was given to quote this blog or post a link to it anywhere.


I am so sorry, from the bottom of my heart, to those whom I hurt.


I will post a longer entry later tonight once I get myself together.

What am I thinking about?

I'm hungry. This is for sure, I can feel it.
My eyes are burning a little, I must be tired.

I'm having difficulty distinguishing between thought processes. When I sleep I am dreaming of myself as a 11 year old boy, moving between dimensions deciphering ancient magic code. Guarding the ones I love from evil entities. I forget what I am while awake. I feel part of nothing, of no real use to anyone or thing.

I wish I could erase certain people from my memory entirely. I feel uncomfortably unbalanced in the world when I find those, who think nothing of my existence, wandering into my own mind. I can't compare this particular sensation to anything else. It is as if I am sending a signal and receiving nothing but static, causing me to feel utter worthlessness throughout my entire being. Even worse is the speculation that they feel disgust at the very thought of me.

I have no need for this uncomfortable feeling, it serves no purpose or opportunity to learn. The only times this desire to remove someone from my memory is present, is when one person is significant enough to me to skew my perception or force me to question what I want in life. It is difficult to reverse these revelations, and even more so difficult to forget the ones who encouraged them.

Setting the analytical aside, being forgotten so easily by those I allowed myself to care for feels like hell and makes me feel like a damn fool. The incessant weight of loneliness is deepened, and I feel desperate to get it out of my mind. Most of the time, I do well to keep it out of my mind. The flood of memories that cause the heart to ache is usually triggered entirely by accident. Reading a message, a photo, then the door is open and you remember the warmth of skin, butterflies and tingling, unusual comfort, laughing, and worst of all; feeling hopeful.

I am tired of my own pathetic tirades.

It's 2:30am. I'm starving, as is the usual around this time of night. I feel uninterested in food these days, nothing appeals to me, and I eat only as necessity. The hunger doesn't bother me so much, I find a sort of comfort in the physical sensation of emptiness.

I feel myself rapidly approaching a breaking point, yet I don't see myself crumbling like I have in the past. In fact, I predict the very opposite. All this time I have been fighting my predisposition toward isolation, when what I should have done long ago, was embrace it. I perform all of these odd little gestures and daily activities as if I were playing a character. Examining, studying and then mimicking. I have spent so much of my life trying to understand what I need to be doing in order to fit in, or at least to avoid detection of my awkwardness, I have lost my self in the process.

Driving alone down the west coast, it never occurred to me how much I was emotionally displacing myself from all of that, how detached I was becoming of my rituals and habits involving social situations. During that time I did not realize how free I was in every sense of my existence. It was not until the fear of returning to that imprisonment, did I come to grasp all that had become open to me. And even more so, upon returning home and even feeling detached from objects, and what I previously associated with 'home'.

The revelation; after everything, is that I need nothing but myself. For I find no happiness in trying to understand the complexities of 'people', and it only serves to cause me grief. I have everything I need available to me, or at least the ability to obtain what I need. I see no cause for getting caught up in a whirlwind of drama concerning other people, when I could be utilizing the resources around me in order to accomplish what I want to do.

Simply put, I am no longer going to be a victim of loneliness and isolation. From now on, it is going to be on my terms.