Day 216

It's hard to be openhearted and optimistic when talking about politics.
Especially when in conversation with people with opposite views.
It tends towards debate. Debate towards argument. Argument to fighting.
And the point of a fight is to win. Because we need there to be a winner. Even though we're all playing for the same team really.
But maybe that's why I've failed to engage.
It feels burdensome. A chain around the neck of the adult human. To be informed enough, so that you know there isn't a secret coup going on; while not being so informed you become CONVINCED there is a secret coup going on.
So what do I want to feel, when I think on politics and conversation.
Something like this: wow.
Everything is happening. All around. In real time. And I get to have a say in how it does!
We have a genuine opportunity to shape the world in which we live, and the world that we will leave behind?!
Let's do that! You and me, stranger. Let's decide, together what is important. Let's shape our world!
That kind of makes me want to vomit cotton candy.
But I hope I'm making myself clear: I want to be excited by the things that make me groan.
I want to want a better world, more than I want to avoid mud slinging.
And I'm impatient, because I want to make big changes now, to make up for all the little change I didn't make before yesterday.
So be patient with me, I don't really know what I'm doing.

Day 215

Because some people would rather kick over sand castles.
Because it's easier.
Because it was gonna fall over any way. So you mad?
Because I don't wanna make something.
Because it's just gonna break anyway.
Or it won't be good.
Or I won't be able to ...
Because making things is stupid!!!!
Because making things is hard.
Because the universe tends towards entropy. So to make something in the face of this, is rebellion. Creation is taking a stand against an opponent you'll never beat and doing it anyway.
To create takes courage.
To destroy is cowardly.
Because some people who kick over sand castles are cowards.
You know who you are.

Day 214

The universe speaks.
Those who know such things, know this to be true. They also know that there are only two ways in which to clearly hear what the universe is saying.
One way, is to hear everything in the universe making noise all at once.
This is not recommended as your head might explode from the effort.
The other method is slightly more achievable, and fortunately the language is, as you probably guessed, universal.
The other is to isolate yourself from all other things. Find yourself between the two parts of existence, in a snug little alcove of your own discovery.
Slow your breathing. Calm your heart.
Feel the stillness in between on beat and the next begin to grow.
The pause is slight, but if you can make room for it, and assure that not even the noise found in thought disturbs this temporary microcosm: you will feel it.
The whisper through your bones.
"I am here."

Day 213

In desperation, his digging gave way to simply clawing. His hands quickly going numb from the repetitive act.
Poor fool.
Would it be mercy, or malice to tell him the truth: that what he was actually digging through, was precisely what he had been digging for!

Day 212

If I should bring a child into this world, let them be plain. Let their non-remarkableness be the only remarkable thing about them.

Let them thrive without making a wave or enduring echo after the fact.

Let them never draw the gaze of the fates/furies/gods/producers/powerful/influential/awful/evil/corrupt/ravenous.

Let them be no target of unnecessary scandal, envy or lust.

Let them be strong and virtuous, but let their strengths and virtues be hidden from the eye of passersby; so only those that have earned an audience might see the oasis behind the mist.

I wish these things for my children that may never be, not because I think it should be this way, but because I fear them being remarkable in a world that is fast fattening itself off the flesh of the wondrous. The beautiful. 

This place is consuming the bells before they are given chance to bloom, and I find I am mourning the sights and smells that could have been, but never now will be. Why? Because if it only could have been, then it would have been.

If it would have been, it should have been.

And if it should have been…

If.

If I should bring a child into such a world, I would not know where to begin raising it up to survive shouldering the burden of its own amazement, in a world that has run out of its own supply ...

I wouldn’t.

So I shouldn’t ...

Day 211

I wanted to say something patriotic.
I'm sure I was feeling patriotic at some point today.
But now I can't, because I don't. I don't because you have a problem with a gender inclusive pronoun in the national anthem.
You, and a very loud and blustering group of indignants, who see yourselves as "real" patriots, have a problem changing all our sons command, to all of us command. You know, the original lyric from when it was originally written. But that's just historical fact, it get in the way of your efinition of heritage and tradition, I'll withdraw it.
You're so goddamn patriotic, that you decided that one word change from sons, to us, is one step TOO FAR!
That this change destroys YOUR country.
So to prove your undying and unquestionable pride in what Canada stands for, you will not be changing that one word. This is what you will be celebrating on Canada day. Stubborn masculine insistence.
Not Terry Fox racing against death on only one leg, not Leonard Cohen, not the blue puttees, Louis Riel, Universal Healthcare, not even the underground railway from slavery in the states or fucking poutine.
NO!
YOUR Canada lives and dies on whether or not our national anthem will continue to IGNORE 50.4 percent of the country or not.
There are genuine criticisms to be made about this country.
There are legitimately outrageous things to be pointed out about the current government.
And the voice of dissent is not only welcomed, it is necessary.
And you could be that voice. You could represent the ones harmed by unfavorable policy and ignored in bureaucratic oversight.
You could be a voice to save and preserve the best parts of this country and be champion to reconciling its faults.
Instead you choose this: to be mad about the lack of dick in your national anthem.
So thanks for dampening my Canadian spirit.
Enjoy singing the wrong words at every game for no reason.

Day 210

I should've known things were about to take a turn for the worst.
Mostly because the narrator said so ...