Mikey FM

2010 is coming to a close in such a fashion I never would’ve perceived a year ago from now.

A year ago from now… when I was engaged still. I remember like it was a decade ago. I remember freshly stirring the miseries that lived with us, that we created and there would be a lightning flash of passion, raw, untreated, scathing, crippling… I slowly wasted away with her love for me. The less she cared about me, the less I cared about me…

It’s the what ifs that get me y’know? Coping with her not being in my life was a little less miserable knowing I couldn’t make her happy. I mean, she helped me pack… doesn’t exactly scream “please don’t go!” I miss that girl I fell in love with years ago. Hours of doing nothing but laying around and talking, endless adventures to places we’ve never been, smoking cigarettes like it was our job, falling in love so easily, trusting each other. I often thought we shared this darker connection… that we both understood evil in ways others didn’t. I was right in ways… but mostly wrong. The darkness that woman knows is more than any human being should endure… another reason why I loved her so much is that she persevered. I think I get it now though… understand it all a little better. To me? She died 334 days ago. Not a word spoken… or expected… just an echo of desire that caresses the walls of my wretched, hollow mind.

I’ve been trying to forget for a year… and  I realized that I can’t, nor will I ever. I met two amazing neighbours who were friendly and polite and went out of their way for me… two very special women I had the priviledge of meeting. The older of the two (let’s call her ‘Rose’) and I would spend hours and hours chatting, just talking about whatever… repeating conversations from weeks previous, whatever… we didn’t care. Rose liked me and I don’t know for how long but we clicked very well, had lots in common, and just had a very natural chemistry about us.  I mean, what are the chances? Totally random encounter… then, best of friends.

Ugh… I remember smoking outside that apartment building. Outdoor cats, possums, squirrels and skunks… motherfucking street was teeming with life at all hours. Rose, her room mate ‘Erica’ and I would sit on the concrete step leading to our building and have a smoke. I did it so often… I remember the cars parked there, the colour of the bricks on the building, the houses, and sounds, and animals… they all became clockwork. Oddly enough… one thing I carry with me from the St. Catharines saga of my life was the tranquility of it… honestly it was a brilliant, good life… it just wasn’t worth my time if my ex wasn’t a part of it, and she wasn’t, so I ran.

UGHHHHHHH. This isn’t even what I wanted to talk about.

Saudade roughly means “The love that remains” for example after someone leaves your life. A sense of longing… the love that marred, whatever.

Fuck, not even the right ex I wanted to complain about… I just shit the blog. 

The ex I wanted to talk about was girlfriend mentioned in previous posts from the summertime. Just that I miss her. I’m going to be seeing her during the break too… I mean hopefully anyway. Just to see her… nothing more. I know for a fact I can’t be her friend, it’d kill me inside. But a coffee date once in a blue moon would be tolerable… fitting, sad.

Summary. This blog essentially details that I am over the woman I abandoned 11 months ago… and not over the one I dated before, and after her.

Like tiny shrapnel grenades going off in my stomache, my own mind’s revelations are as wrenching as the worrying gut that comes along with them.

So I’m not over this girl… BFD. Except I have a girlfriend… wait… BFD… right?

OH GOOD GRAVY.

I’m just digging myself a hole.

I like this girl, she’s great… we get along well for the most part. At first I was like BAM this girl is awesome and she still is, don’t get me wrong. I’m just pulling the same shit I pulled during the summer. I’m not being fair to her or myself as right now… but I don’t know, maybe my mind will sort itself out over the holidays?

Regardless, I leave you with a cliffhanger. 

Tune into Mikey FM to find out the answers to these questions

WILL MIKE COME TO GRIPS AND LET THE RELATIONSHIP RUN ITS COURSE?

WILL MIKE EVER STOP FEELING LIKE SCOTT PILGRIM?

WILL MIKE REMEMBER HIS SECRET AGREEMENT WITH THE UNIVERSE?

I’m a can of shit. Simple as that… got a problem?

Sweet Jesus! Well… it’s a shame that I’ve fallen off the face of the blogosphere (not really, but whatever). Being a lazy git just makes the odd offbeat update that much more … stomache wrenching.

A lot has happened eh? I moved to Scudz, living on campus, living comfortably. Almost out of food though lol. I’m also poor as shite… that hasn’t changed. I’ve cut down on cigarettes to the point where I could easily quit. Still don’t want to though. I like smoking too much to quit. I say I’m gonna quit and end up smoking more.

Regardless of my nicotine addiction. University life… yeah. I love it, I think it’s absolutely amazing. I’ve met some wickedly amazing people since moving here and it really feels good here.

What doesn’t feel good is the academics that come with this wonderful lifestyle.

Well, let’s face it. The only classes I’ve taken that has captured any part of my interest are Theatre and Philosophy.  Sociology, Geology and English suck. Well, english isn’t too bad, I just fucking hate being asked to write stuff. I write of my own accord. So yeah, as much as I love it here… it’s not what is right for me, atleast not at this present time. Theatre is great though, love my prof, and the people in the class are choice as well. My latest romantic interest was also found in that class, so no complaints about that. She’s a sweet girl.

Frosh week was good. Solid memories for sure. Most better than others, but all in all the first week here was incredible and it only got better with time.

I’m leaving my education behind however… I’m dipping out after finishing first year and then I’m running away to Banff. Seriously. I don’t know if my parents will take it well, but I’ve got to spread my wings and fly. I love it here… and I’ve learned much from this place already.  I just have to do this… I need to challenge myself in a way like disappearing to Alberta and surviving.

Doesn;t sound challenging… but either way I will thrive on the freedom.

Home for xmas soon too. Exciting times. Anyway that’s it for today’s episode of Mikey FM. Tune in next time to find out if I told my parents I’m abandoning my education for the pursuit of happiness! Hooray!

Mike has reached lvl.10

Mikey, no need to leave your things signed in on my desktop:)

It causes me to post things on your things, almost posted thinking it was mine.

But I will be nice and write anything mean.

Just that he’s a nice kid and deserves some happiness for once.

He may bitch alot, but he’s really a sweet guy.

This could also be causes by major sleep deprivation.

I can’t exactly fathom my own brain these days. Honestly, it feels like it’s flickering dangerously on the edge of not working at all. Writing is probably the most prevelant example. I think of all these amazing things to write about, these brilliant ideas and then they just go away. My poetry is faultering because of this… I have a ard timewith free verse poetry. Which is ironic really, I don’t necessarily appreciate structure to the extent where my writing HAS to follow a secific pattern. Thing is, I’m just better at writing poetry that rhymes… but it’s also more difficult to convey an idea… there’s only so many words that fit in those stanzas. All I know is that my entire life has become afflicted by this schism. It’s become a puzzle that broke apart into pieces that warped and frayed… and now I can’t put them back together.

I am not completely at a loss, at points I find these pieces and can make out what was once on them. But the majority of the time I’m lost and figure it’d be better to burn what was left of them.

I am neither frantic nor worried. I am more or less annoyed. Hermit crabs must feel this way… This shell has defined me for so long, but I’ve outgrown it. I need a new one. I don’t WANT a new one, this is something I’m afraid I can’t control. Renovating doesn’t seem to help the old shell.

Two decades into life and I have yet to truly know who I am, what I am capable of, or what I really need in this life to be happy. I know writing about it sure doesn’t help. Then what’s the point of writing it down? It has to do with the brain flickering… I go back and read my posts over and over again and learn from what I wrote. It seriously helps these thoughts congeal. I have a problem with the ethereal. The fact that it so easily slips away… it’s like trying to remember a dream after you wake up… the more you focus on it, the more you forget. My life is becoming just as ethereal as a dream… but I don’t understand why. Why are the borders of reality shifting?

I feel like Neo searching for that answer… “What is the Matrix?”

There’s gotta be something more right? But what if there’s not? What if this is it? Why do I feel this endless need to search and pry… hunting for freedom.

Left with the same questions… only scattered, frayed and tossed around my skull.

No answers, no questions, just schism. 

Stupid religion. Seriously? I understand the need for faith. I have found something tangible and proper to have faith in… though it’s even more difficult to do than have faith in some sort of deity. Jesus never died for my sins or yours, he apparently died for the sins of humans 2010 years ago. Look at us now 2 millenium later, he’d have to die a million times over… and maybe he has. Thing is, I let people believe whatever they want… I may insult them and their beliefs behind their back.. but that’s another story.  What I have faith in… surprisingly coming from the cynic’s mouth… is people. I try to believe in trust, loyalty and honour… I try to believe that not everyone is a complete and total fuckhead. It’s not much of a belief system, and it may not be a happy one… but it pays off really. People surprise you sometimes… I surprise people sometimes. I believe in hitch hiking, and giving some homeless guy a smoke, I believe in buying my friend’s shit when they ain’t got no money, cause they’d do the same for me. I believe in friendship and love, and truly that’s all I need. I believe in life, and that is how I protect and hone my faith. I am a wingless Michael, an earthbound archangel. Ironically using a biblical reference, I digress; it’s St. Michael’s aspects of protecting faith itself that are relevent…

I honestly like religion, I enjoy some aspects of every religion. I mean, who can’t appreciate Buddhism? Hinduism is also very interesting, Sri Krishna is excellent to read about. Taoism, Christianity, Animalism, Nihilism, Jedi, whatever… I believe what I believe, whilst knowing fully what sort of choice I am making by not following any sort of organized religion (my reasons go far far back into my pre-teens, are not neccessarily relevent) but I make the choice fully informed.

What I enjoy most is seeing that unspoken sense of respect our human brethren someties express. When that simple hello from a stranger makes good story material to tell our friends. “Dude, seriously, this guy was so nice. I had never been downtown Toronto before and he walked me to where I needed to go! Who ever would’ve thought right?”

I’m a smoker, and I notice this sense of brotherhood is a key element of being a smoker. IF you have a 1/3 of a pack or more… you share, you give one up when a stranger bums one. Some of them even give away their last smoke, I’ve done it before. Also, the social aspect of smoking is brilliant. How do you think I met my friends in college? Smoking is honestly brilliant for that, it starts conversations with strangers “Hey, gotta light?” “Yeah, you’re in my class eh?” So on and so forth, I have met more friends in the smoker’s pit than any highschool or college lunchroom, hallway, or class room. Thank you smoking, even though you kill me slowly and bleed my wallet dry… you’re pretty cool.

Welcome to one of my rather benign posts, I know they don’t happen very often… but honestly I just don’t feel like complaining about everything tonight. I strongly believe I am bipolar… these neutral moods are the hardest evidence really. 20% depressed, 20% euphoric and 60% lethargic… with a dash of anxiety yo.

I am by no means searching for a medicated answer, just searching for answers in general. I always thought it might’ve been my environment, my surroundings, the events of my life… it might still be, but mix in a disorder with the naturallly occuring shit pile that is my life and my behaviour is actually rather predictable. I am a prime example of fucked up. I always knew some things were wrong with me, I feel bloody mental most of the time, so I guess I am lol. It may be self-diagnosed… but if I can pin point why I act the way I act, atleast understanding the (possible) reasons can help me control the problem. I have an abnormal psyche textbook upstairs I actually received from one of those human beings that suprise you with nice gestures every once in a while… I never saw him again after he gave me the book, I feel bad really knowing I can never pay the guy back. But he was a part of a life I left far behind. A good topic for a later blog maybe… my once upon a time life… not a bad story… kind’ve sad for me to write about, but a story worth telling none-the-less. But yeah, I’ve got that book upstairs to look at.

You see, I am going into Theatre Arts… psychology and sociology are extremely relevent to understanding the arts, acting imparticular. Understanding how the human mind works, and why we behave the way we do is essential to being a good actor. In theory, acting never stops after class. Every single thing we do is acting… we speak louder with our friends so others can hear how interesting our conversation is, our body language, the way we hold our eyes, posture, sighs, waves, winks, flirting… it’s all acting. I always wondered if theatre was a portrayal of life… or a parody of it. Shakespeare said all the world is a stage, and I think he was very right.

OMG I FORGOT ABOUT MY TEA, BRB !!!!!111 (Thought process, Shakespeare, England, Tea and Crumpets, MY TEA ON THE COUNTER!)

Tea is in the microwave, it may be cold  but it iss also steeped as a mothafucka, word up. Strong tea is the best tea. Also, because it is quarter to five in the morning, said tea is very… appreciated. Digustingly enough I could talk abut tea forever… so we’re going to move to an entirely different topic than what I was even talking about before I remembered my cold tea sitting on the kitchen counter.

So… uh… yeah…

Uhm, I’m getting closer and closer to moving out and moving into residence at the University. My hours at the restaurant have been slashed in half. One night my employer harasses me none stop, just will not leave me the FUCK alone… I snap at her and try to defend my right to refuse unsafe work (not donning a piece of safety equipment I believed to be detrimental to my health and safety). She then tells me I have to wear the equipment or I can’t do nights anymore. Reluctant to obey, because I believed I was in the right… our little confrontation has led to insufferable lecturing from my mother. Really, my employer has earned the deepest and most thorough hatred I can convey. So because of her harassing me one night, I now have 40 hours a cheque and tuition payments due in two weeks. So I essentially buttfucked myself into needing financial assistance from the government, because my employer is a dogface twat who doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up and I’m a grumpy asshole. Regardless, I wear the fucking face shield now… it funnels poisonous fumes into my mouth and eyes every once and a while, but hey, who gives a fuck? When I go blind from that shit, I sue till the hair on their ass is in debt.

Hokay, so rants like these are why I remain anonymous. You know me as Mikey, Michael, Mike, whatever. It’s vague enough. There are only a select few people who know Mikey FM is my creation, and my only follower is a close, close friend. Also why I will never mention any names, and if I do, they are not real. Now, I am aware of how vast the internet is, and I am familiar with the theory of chance, large numbers, and probability… still, however, paranoid that someone can tie me to this blog. Now, we all know how the internet can bite us in the ass. Michael Phelps(Rights Resevered(JK)) is a prime example of this. I don’t need this shit showing up at work one day or whatever. Fuck, that would be terrible. This blog is personal enough, so if I can’t express my anonymous hatred on the internet freely, than how the fuck is this a free country?! It isn’t a hate crime, or slander, it’s just that I don’t like the bitch, no one does… like, literally no one. God, I hope she’s around when I quit, so I can point at her and say “She’s the reason I quit, and the reason I ain’t never comin’ back… and most likely part of the reason why your business is so unorganized, and why no one really likes working here.

There I go, bitching again.

I have too much to complain about man… but then again, ask me to write about something exciting or good that has happened to me in the last little while and you wouldn’t get any blog updates. I could tell you all about the potluck BBQ I had planned… and how it’s not happening anymore… or the party in the woods that turned into a total drag (a friend got some horrible news… can’t have fun knowing someone you care about is in that sort of pain.) Could also tell you about my cousin’s wedding in the states that I am missing because I’m poor as shite, and have to work. Could tell you lots of things that should be good in my life but isn’t. I mean, that’s all my life has become is missed opportunity because I am tied down by some system of control… it all boils down to a lack of freedom. Opressed, held back and wingless.

I am awfully aware of the irony of my last post. Discussing my flaws while blatantly disregarding one of the worst of all. I have a problem with feeling sorry for myself. Poor me, blah blah blah. I need to focus more on the positive. This is where my fight begins.  In my last post, I touched on the subject of me being unfair to my girlfriend by holding back some things I needed to say to her. I spent some time rebuking myself for posting it, but it was actually worded the best way I could think. What it boils down to is my lack of clarity.

Let me tell you some things about my girlfriend. She is one of a kind, the way se laughs, speaks, writes, smiles… it all pulls at the strings of my heart, an the corners of my lips. The way she grabs onto me when I hug her, her playful bites at my chest and neck, the way her eyes burn into mine… it gives me that clarity I need so badly in my life.

In the past, I have been with girls and everything is fine when I am with them, but when I am apart from them, I pin point their flaws, find things that bug me about them, and then they just burrow into my mind and make it impossible for me to appreciate them.

THIS IS NOT THE CASE with my girlfriend. Although the reason for me mentioning it is because… everything is alright when I am with her, but when I am apart from her, that clarity is gone… life becomes a dense fog and all of a sudden… I am facing the world alone.

When I am apart from her, I know it’s melodramatic to say… but I kind’ve suffer. I mean these blogs are probably a prime example of this. I always write them when I go a few days or so without seeing her… when all of my problems seep in and I am reminded of the hell that awaits my waking in the morning. How can I let her go when I leave? I can’t…

But how can I enjoy myself without ever seeing her? I can’t…

I’ve been caught in a Catch-22.

This is my fight; to win I must look beyond the options given to me.

I’m going to have to try, put my 100% into it. I’m going to tell her that I love her and I am going to do my best to give her what she deserves.

The same fairness that she has shown me, the same understanding and selflessness. We’ll never know for sure… no one knows what the future holds. But as long as we’re holding each other when we get there.

This is my ever waking life, my clarity, my endless fight…

I’ve said it a thousand times before, I’m not exactly the most pleasant person sometimes. Most of the time I try to be courteous, kind, and respectful…

However, I have a problem.. well, many problems. I try my best to rise up and challenge my flaws (or atleast the ones I recognize). I slip away sometimes and trying to ‘better myself’ takes a back seat to angst and incessant ramblings.

I have a problem with talking about my ex-fiance… I do it way too often, and sometimes it’s infront of my current girlfriend. However, I recognize this as a flaw… I also recognize it as a way of healing. I asked this girl to marry me for a reason, I fell so deeply and stupidly in love with her… I would’ve done anything for her. But we spent some time apart (4 months) before I moved in with her… things were alright at first, but I quickly learned that she had changed… she was a different person. I can’t stop blaming myself for it… why would she treat me like she did if I meant enough to her for her to marry me?! I felt like a worthless piece of shit… I mean, if someone else was in my shoes, would they do the same thing? She acted like I didn’t matter, like I didn’t make her happy, like I wasn’t good enough to make her smile… or good enough to be treated like I mattered to her. I would confront her about it and she’d shrug it off… make no effort to improve her behaviour. That wasn’t the woman I asked to be my wife, that wasn’t the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I loved my life with her… my life was perfect with her. But she wasn’t with me anymore… sleeping beside her every night, I felt so alone… probably the worst alone that can exist… still I blame myself… what if I held on a little longer? What if she was just going through a phase? What if she finally started to communicate with me?

We hardly spoke those last couple days… weeks… whatever they were. I left the third week of January. I told her 3 or 4 days beforehand. The night I told her, she said “I know, you told people at the barn that you were leaving me before you left for Christmas holidays.”

This, I did not do… and if she would’ve actually fucking communicated with me instead of running away from every confrontation… who knows? Maybe things would be okay… my life would be the way it should. What was so wrong with me that she couldn’t talk to me?  I don’t know… I’ll never know. I feel so raw inside because of it… we haven’t spoken to each other since the day before I left. It is now the third week of July.  I can’t even imagine the guts I would need to say something to her… I’m scared to…  I feel like I did her wrong, like I treated her badly… like I am the worst, cold-hearted, jackass that ever walked the Earth.

I was 17 when I met her… 18 when I asked her to marry me… 19 when I left her… and 20 when I wished endlessly I could have that girl back, the girl I fell so madly in love with.

My current girlfriend, is not a new girlfriend. She was my highschool sweet heart.  Now let me just clarify that I was kind’ve a terrible person in highschool. I was emotionally irrational, vindictive to the core, and behaved rather dispicably towards many of the woman in my life at the time. My current girlfriend was my first love, my first… everything. We fell apart so horridly… I cheated on her, I had emotional affairs on the side, I was with her when I met (and dated) the girl who would later become my wife to be. I treated her horribly because in a way she treated me the same way… not as bad as what I did to her, but it’s all in the distant past now anyway. What’s interesting is even after we destroyed each other emotionally and burned that bridge to crisp… we held on to pieces of what we had together. She dumped me on April 22nd 2008. We started dating again April 22nd 2010. Two years went by and we were able to build a strong and stable relationship out of fragments of our past together. I was honest with her, I told her why I felt the way I did, why I did those horrible things to her, why I hated her, and still loved her. I continue this honest and naked approach with her… nothing should be hidden, no topic should be taboo… if you love someone, you speak your mind, you tell them what you don’t like, you tell them what you like and you do it often.  This is where the guts come into play again… this ‘hold nothing back’ philosophy that I am trying to sport is difficult… but in the sense of self-discovery more than anything. I am still finding myself… what I went through with my ex shattered my identity… a life lost, a person destroyed… and reborn. You need to relearn so much about yourself… with a fresh set of eyes you see the darkness worse than ever, the flaws…

I am sometimes a bad person. Something I actually have not shared with my girlfriend is currently eating away at me… but I don’t know if it can be the exception to the ‘hold nothing back’ mindset. I don’t know how she’ll react… I don’t know how she’ll feel about it… It makes me a hypocrit in my mind. I haven’t cheated on her or anything, it’s just about how I feel regarding our relationship. I won’t post excruciating details, because I’ve made a habit of actually reading these blog posts out loud to her… but I’ll write something that will get the conversation going. I’m leaving in the fall for University… I am going to be around new people, new women… This is the hypocritical part (which I can somewhat justify). How can I say I love her… and not want to do the longdistance thing? I mean, I want to, absolutely… but at the same time I don’t. I really don’t know if she could understand where I’m coming from either… but I just got out of a very serious commitment that ended in excrutiating, life threatening, heart-ache. Also another reason why I am frightened is because I don’t trust myself. I NEED that physical connection with a woman, not even sex, I just need to be close to her, hold her, cuddle her… and I’ll be away from her for who knows how long at a time…

I don’t want to do that to her… and I don’t even know if my reasoning is justifiable, or if she would think so. I only half think so… so I’m guessing she wouldn’t. She means so much to me… she helped me back on my feet emotionally, gave me a reason to give love another chance, gave me a chance to feel it again.

Like I said, she was my highschool sweet heart, my first love. That doesn’t go away, as both of us have found out.

I love her, almost everything about her. She actually puts up with my bullshit (that I honestly have been working hard to tone down a bit). She treats me well, and all I feel is the utmost respect, and admiration for her. What scares me is the long distance… the relationship is solid the way is now (with somewhat easy access to seeing each other). I see her fairly often, but I wish I could see her even more… by moving 4 hours away from her seeing her fairly often becomes seeing her rarely.

That’d drive me crazy… literally crazy. All I want right now is to be surrounded by her  and her love. How can I quit cold turkey?

These are my flaws:

I am indecisive. I am inconsiderate. I am selfish. I am immature. I am unsure of myself and my judgement. I am irrational. I am an addict (of sorts). I have horrible tact (sometimes). I am arrogant. I am obnoxious. I am blunt. I hurt those who I am close to.

I hate being all of these things… they consume me, I am become this miasma.

I feel as if they are my plague, a burden worse than my crippled knee.

Here are my guts.

My worthless, stinking, guts…

You must wonder sometimes, you must question this life. Why wouldn’t you? I personally think human’s are sick for not asking questions. I’m no saint myself, I have a hard time praticing that which I preach. This however, is due to a lack of knowledge on the issues. Now, these issues that I speak of concern freedom. Do you believe you are free? Let me stop you there, the answer should be no, but we are coerced and conditioned to say ‘yes’.  I am seriously concerned about the levels of control, the distribution of power, and Jonny Who-The-fuck? making all of the decisions. Now, I rarely delve into the world of politics because I believe it is a waste of time. Liberal, conservative, it’s all a load of shit. Why should I vote? Nothing ever changes. We need to realize that whether we are controlled or governed by liberals, conservatives, or the fucking green party… we ultimately still live in a classist, capitolist, and oppressive society. Now, Grade 12 English classed introduced me to a little something called Marxism. Now, I believe in the ideology. It’s a utopian ideology that can never exist. Why can’t it exist? It’s called greed. A lust for control… communism turns into despotism far too easily. Human beings just can’t live in a world without sign-exchange value. “My car is nicer than yours, so that makes you a jackass”. We crave luxury and show it off. We oppress our peers and neighbours anyway possible. We stand tall and proud beside our $800 BBQ because we spent $800 dollars on it. Fuck off!!!! Wake the fuck up and TAKE A LOOK AROUND YOU! NO ONE GIVES A SHIT. Must be nice to have fucking money because the aristocracy in this country are probably less than 10%. For every one rich motherfucker, there’s probably 100 people just barely scraping by. The class system goes like this, homeless, almost homeless, surviving, living, and the last class is the guys who laugh at everyone else. Think about it like this… if one third of our population can barely afford shelter and sustinance at the same time… which I list as ‘almost homeless’… we still have four classes to divide up, and only 66% of the country left to label. Sad right? But who gives a shit?! We’ll lead our worthless little lives, mindlessly contribute to a society that does NOTHING to help take it’s own proverbial head out of it’s ass. What this all boils down to is that there is NO. SUCH. THING. AS. FREEDOM. It’s an illusion. Even when you strip away the human control… we are still governed by a natural law, condemned to death before we’re even born. But… honestly that is neither here nor there… just an honorable mention to the all mighty natural law that will one day strip my brain of the electricity that fuels it. Can’t stand it…

All I want is see the world, have a beer, start a family, live, love, laugh… but I find myself brick walled. I need money to see the world, have a beer, a family, a good time… need an education to get enough money the survive. Go to University for 5 years so they can suck thousands and thousands of fucking dollars out of me and FOR WHAT??!?!?!!!!!!! FOR FUCKING WHAAAAAAAAT?!

A piece of fucking paper that will get me fucking nowhere. YOU THINK YOU LIVE IN A FREE COUNTRY?  YOU THINK YOUR LIFE IS YOUR OWN? YOU BELIEVE EVERYTHING IS HUNKY DORY? Well good for you fuck, you’re either staggerly stupid, naive, oblivious, or rich as fuck. Either way, I probably hate you.

WHAT IS MY FREEDOM???

I wish I could figure it out… I’m just hunting non-stop for my life… myself… when will the bad feelings go away? When will I stop worrying? When will I stop being so goddamn afraid of the future? Why am I frightened of letting myself fail? Why do I just want to be a lazy cunt and scrape by? I hate having so much expected of me… I hate it so much that I purposely shed myself of the responsabilities I am charged with. I am not happy with anything this life has to offer me.

What I want is to be with her all the time, go on adventures with friends, explore and discover!!!

No time for that though… gotta work for a pay cheque that goes to paying for overpriced tuition… I’m 20 years old… I should be out enjoying myself like everyone else my age. But I keep finding myself crippled, completely and totally shutdown from life. No money, no gas, no food, can’t go see her, too tired from work, slept all day… no time for anything.

I wonder what my freedom is….

Then I just wonder what freedom is…

Hokay, so updating when I say I will is probably going to be a bit of a sporadic thing. This, considering I haven’t updated in a whore’s age, when I said I would update the following day after my first post. However, it is currently 7:42 in the morning and I have to go back to work in less than 12 hours. Just to let you all know, I work 10PM to 6AM five days a week… don’t exactly know why they scheduled me 6PM to 1AM. It fucks up my sleeping pattern, and they know I only have a G2 class liscense and it is ILLEGAL for me to drive between the hours of 12AM and 6 AM. But you know, even though I live 27 kilometres away, it seems they think it’s a grand idea to schedule me into a goddamn corner. I’m one of those guys that can’t catch a break, you know what I mean? There’s a catch, and it’s Catch-22. A brilliant book, but I curse it for shedding light on the sardonically revolting chain of events that is my life.

Don’t get me wrong however, I have a good life, there are very good things in my life… but honestly, who focuses on that shit anyway? It’s easy to focus on when that’s all you have is good things. But I am, by nature, a cynical bastard who has a hard time cheering the fuck up.

I have a million things to say and never know how to start, it’s usually complaining, but I do share good ideas once in a while. Actually… which reminds of one right now. I have a hard being creative, with writing specifically. Only for the sole reason I have this tick burrowing into my brain telling me “Someone else has probably thought of it already.” Eh? Six and a half billion minds on this earth you REALLY, HONESTLY thing you have a unique idea? I realize that this is an extremely pessimistic and self destructive way of thinking… but it holds me back. What can you say when it’s all been said before? Even my poetry repeats itself… saying the same thing over and over with differents words, or having words repeat themselves quite often in my poetry. I search and strive for a certain eloquence that constantly eludes me. If you ever heard me speak in person, I’d probably sound like a moron. I don’t bother anymore… anytime I attempt to say something intelligent I get weird looks, people don’t understand, or I just don’t make sense I guess. I feel like I’m losing out on life’s simple passions. I used to preach about it like I was a goddamn evangelist. “You don’t need some make believe deity in order to feel right about life. You need passion, and that is all.” Isn’t that what makes life worth living? We base our careers on it, we plan our vacations on places we’re passionate about, we choose our lovers the same way. Everything we enjoy in life implies passion. Now, I feel as if I can achieve this sort of passion anymore or honestly believe in it, at this point it feels very far away. No one wants to hear a sob story, but I am breaking. It seems like the passion I once felt in life has been replaced by pressure, stress, and responsabilities. There’s another word I despise!!! It’s become so twisted… into a word that everyone hates I think. I’ll admit I’m super lazy, if I don’t have to attend to one of these ‘responsabilities’ I won’t. I know that makes me a worthless sack of shit, but who the fuck isn’t lazy?

I wouldn’t be lazy if every moment of my life wasn’t controlled, and planned out for me. I have the responsibility of getting myself an education right? Fuck my miserable life. This education thing has kind’ve dominated my life since I was fucking 4 years old. For 16 years I have been attending to this responsability… and now (after dropping out of college and moving back in with my parents to work nightshift for the rest of the summer at shitty ass job) I’m getting sick of it! I hate that I glorify Christopher McCandless, I hate that I regard him as a hero. But even though his journy came to a tradgic end… I can’t help but envy him him with all my heart. I can’t help but long for what he had… a longing that has no end.

Again, don’t get me wrong, I relinquish myself from freedom this fall. I am going to university. Yeah… go figure eh? Leave my girlfriend, all my friends… for what? An education. An education for what you might ask? Well, you see… ironically, this cynical bastard is taking a 4 Year Theatre Arts course. Nothing may never work out for me… but it doesn’t stop me from hoping it will. Now, I don’t have any delusions of grandeur, personally I think I’m a jackass. I realize there’s no Hollywood for me, I realize there’s no steady job for me, I realize that those who can’t “do” teach. (Drama teacher? A job I would somewhat enjoy… but I’d probably become an alcoholic.) I am taking Theatre Arts because… well… why am I taking theatre arts? I dont fucking know. It was something I was once passionate about, competative about and even excelled at… but now… it just feels like another dead end. I applied for International Development at Waterloo… but I got rejected. Slacked too hard in highschool… a high average from one semester of college apparently wasn’t enough to woo them in my favour. But that is something I would thrive on. Not only would I get to travel the world, immerse myself into different cultures, and meeting some of the most caring people in the world… but I can make lives better in the process. I grew up, spoiled, middle class, developed country, and I hated it. I still hate my life, I have luxuries, porn, a ps3 a bloomin ROOF over my head… I mean who the fuck can really hate their life when they have things like that? There are people with nothing… absolutely nothing… and they probably enjoy themselves a lot more. I wanted to strip myself down to nothing… go to school where no one knew me, get my degree in International Development, hand out resumes to every NGO and Humnitarian Aid group I could bloody well think of… and start living it day to day, wouldn’t matter where I went, I’d work my ass off, go home and feel acomplished. But… whatever… going to school for theatre arts… might as well follow through with it right? Who knows where it’ll take me…?

I went off topic I think… I forget what my original point was. Oh nevermind, passion! I feel so lost without with the simple passions in life that used to get me by.

To me… right now… it all blend together, it’s all the same… the great night I had with friends, or the endless cuddling with my girlfriend all fade into distant memories of last week and become festering sores reminding me how I never have time to do those things.  A day feels like it takes 48 hours to go by… and it’s a new month ever week… rush through youth, and then wish you had it back when it’s gone. I’m 20 fucking years old, times goes by faster than ever! If it speeds up anymore, I am going to go fucking insane. Time is all we truly posess, and it’s somethign we’ll never truly own. Time becomes a currency (and I fucking hate currency)… currency is only a game. Time is only a game. The thing about games is that there are winners and losers… rarely a tie (if said game even allows ties). I lose with currency, and I lose with time. Life has always been a losing battle for me, I very much live by the sayin “Life’s a bitch, and then you die.” I try hard to seize moments and hold them for as a long as I can… but then later on, they become just that, a moment. The average human only lives for about 3 billion seconds… fuckit.

Anyway, I’ve been in a real shitty mood the past 4 days or so… dunno why, might be the lack of proper sleep, or food… might be diabetes, not exactly sure.

The summary I’ll leave you with is this: I have a hard time coping with the trials that systems of control have charged me with. The labours of growing up in a developed society are back breaking. I can’t handle it with no light at the end of the tunnel… What do  I have to look forward to if it all just rots away and dies anyway? Children? Why? So I can fuck them up? To make a difference? Why? The world’s ending anyway. I have lost passion for life… which I believe is tied directly to my ability to express myself artistically, socially, etc.

And that’s it for this post.

I’ll update in the morning.

JUST KIDDING! I’ll update when I want/feel like it/have the time.

This is Mikey FM signing off.