Wednesday, November 2, 2011


Reblogged from My Tumblr

This video hurts my soul.  There is a difference between “a spanking” and outright beating a child.  I’ve never made a video about this, but watching this brings back a lot of hatred of my childhood.  Judge William Adams needs to go to jail for this sort of child abuse that was a common occurrence according to his daughter. 
The same thing would happen to me as a child.  My parents were divorced and my mom had massive anger problems.  She always knew I loved my dad more and it infuriated her.  One time in particular I got “caught” talking to my dad on the phone even though my mom had banned me from speaking with him.  She was furious.  She whipped off her belt and just went to town.  Legs, arm, neck, and back (Much like Judge Adams).  Its one of the reasons I find it hard to love her.  But the one silver lining that I take away from it is I will never beat my child.  I will never be any of the terrible things my mom was.  I’ve never shared that before.

I couldn’t watch more than a minute of this, because it makes me cry. Just like Phil, my mother used to do something similar to me, except with a broom. It took me a very long time to learn how to fight back, and still to this day I wonder what kind of person I might have turned out to be if I hadn’t had to experience it. I probably never would have accepted my first boyfriend beating me for as long as he did; I would have realized sooner that this isn’t the way to express love.Because it’s not. Never is this acceptable. I know now how disgusting and wrong this is. But if this is happening to you or someone you know, please help them.
No one should ever have to share this kind of experience.

Monday, October 24, 2011

Gather Your Strength and Rise Up

Lip-syncing: Sara Bareilles -- Bluebird


I have no real excuse for my absence. I just...I've been lost in my own little world; and not in a good way.

I've just been struggling to figure out my life. I have no idea what I'm doing or where I'm going any more. Call it a...fifth-of-life crisis? I'm just reaching a point where I'm so much happier just curled up in my bed all day doing nothing. And even though we often joke about how awesome it would be to do nothing my whole life, I can't help but think how terrible that would be in reality...

I haven't been able to write. I haven't been able to focus. I haven't been myself for awhile now. Well, that is to say if who I was is really who I am. Does that make sense? Probably not. Nothing really makes sense to me right now. Which is probably why work irritates me so much, why I'm pretty much failing school, and why so many of the people I thought were friends are abandoning me. Abandon is a strong word-perhaps ignoring is a better fit. But in either case, I just have to figure some shit out before I do anything. This anti-social, manic-depressive behaviour is quite frankly very dangerous. And when you're starting to frighten yourself, then you know it's time for something to change.

I really do need to gather my strength and rise up.

Question is whether I can or not...and where I go from here.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Mood:  meh.
Hating:  my jobs.
Loving:  alcohol.


What made the beauty of the moon? / And the beauty of the sea? / Did that beauty make you? / Did that beauty make me? / Will that make me something? / Will I be something? / Am I something?

And the answer comes: Already am, always was, and I still have time to be.

-- Anis Mojgani’s, “Here Am I”

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Memories Won't Let You Cry

Mood:  exhausted.
Hating:  how I'm so tired and have no life because I'm working so much.
Loving:  sleep; wish I could get more...
Lip-syncing:  Avenged Sevenfold -- M.I.A

The Evolution of Love.

"Have you ever been in love with the memory of something?

Failing to see that what truly exists now is nothing like the memory. That is, the definition; what defined that person you envision ceases to exist yet you still force yourself to perceive it.

There is no perception without sensation. Perception without sensation is mere delusion.

Even when you see through it, you convince yourself there is still hope that the memory can be relived. When that moment comes that’s when you know someone has taken a piece of you with them when they leave you.

That’s how you know. When you realize that you spend more time trying to convince yourself, than living.. thats when you’ve  not only lost the person you so crave, but you’ve lost yourself. You want to hold on to them but you cant and you know that they have so much of you and you wont get it back.

People try so hard to turn back time.

But even a mere moment, a split second can be definitive and irreversible. Some things can never be replaced or fixed. But this is difficult for the human mind to take in. It is difficult for the human mind to grasp something as non-linear as loss.

We are too fixated on the constant.

When you fall in love with someone and that someone falls in love with you the only thing you can control is how you feel. We have no power over the other person and you cant and wont be able to control when they fall out of love with you.

This is a risk we take when we fall in love. There is a fear of becoming so enveloped in someone that we don’t even know who we are anymore. People are so powerless when it comes to love. All we can control is how much we hurt ourselves and others and how much we take out of life.

We can control deceit and truthfulness

We all have the power to control what projects from within ourselves. We control negative things and positive things we choose and resist to put into the world. We cannot control the negative and positive things that come from others. We may influence them but we do not dictate certain outcomes.

But we can’t really control love

Falling in love— its the one thing that simply happens. It’s the riskiest thing any human being could do, but the greatest thing anyone could feel. It is what lifts you up and makes you see the light in every darkened room.

Never let the memories die. Just don’t let the memories overtake you and distort the reality and possible beauty that lives beyond that once existent love.

I’ve loved and lost and thought the only thing I’d ever want was the faint memory of a past I once had. Now I know I can love another and not only love but be loved in return. The way I feel now is too powerful for words. When they aren’t there I don’t hope they are thinking about me. I know they are. I don’t have to worry that they care, I simply know. When they leave I think about the next time I’ll see them and count down the hours, minutes and seconds.

The greatest test of someone’s love for you is that look in their eyes when they see you the very next morning with your eyes all hazy and your hair all messy —that moment when their eyes smile at you and cannot seem to look away. When you simply see the person you love breathing calmly into the warmth of a summer night and all you feel is euphoria that’s when you know.

Now I know.

I hope you know who you are and I hope you know how much you matter. For you, are worth every risk. You are worth every ounce of uncertainty that comes with falling in love.

You are the light."

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

We'll Do What We Like, Because Life's In Short Supply

Mood:  content.
Hating:  how I should probably be exercising, or doing laundry, or cleaning...
Loving:  just relaxing.
Lip-syncing:  Bleeker Ridge -- From Now On


Just trying to get back into the swing of writing again. Bear with me...

See Who I Am

I slowly woke feeling the sun’s rays beating down on me. I saw the light glow behind my eyelids and the warmth on my face and hair. An arm was lightly wrapped around my waist and a gentle finger traced circles around my belly button. Light feather kisses were placed on my shoulder and I could feel the coolness of the piercings from his lips. His messy black hair brushed against my neck and his breath feathered my skin as he quickly moved his lips up to the special spot on my neck. I jerked fully awake as I couldn’t hold back the moan that sprang forth. I could practically hear him smirk. It was his sure-fire way to wake me up; always.
I slid away a little to stretch before moving back, molding my body to his. His chin sat on my shoulder as he kissed my cheek and jaw down to my neck. I sighed contently reaching a hand back sliding it into his silky black hair and twirled the soft locks between my fingers. His other hand cupped my chin turning it making his nose lightly rub against mine. His wide green eyes fixed on my face though I hadn’t opened my brown ones yet. I just felt it. Felt his gaze just like I felt the finger on my belly button make slow circles. I slowly smiled keeping my eyes closed as his warm large hand cupped my cheek. I turned my face lightly kissing his palm before leaning into his touch. 

He was not what anyone would have expected. He wasn’t violent like people believed when they saw his tattoos. He wasn’t angry and searching for attention as so many people thought seeing his piercings. His fit body and large hands weren’t meant to destroy and cause pain. They were meant to be gentle; to coax beautiful notes from the strings of a guitar, or to love and touch a woman. He wasn’t an alcoholic or a druggie like so many people assumed when he had a bottle of beer in his hand or a cigarette hanging between his perfect lips. He wasn’t lonely just because he played to thousands of screaming fans every night on tour.

He wasn’t meant to be alone because I couldn’t stop loving him.
His lips pressed to my forehead and I smiled lightly. He lingered and smiled then pulled away and looked down pressing his forehead to the top of my head, presumably looking down at me.
“So what do I have to do today to get you to open your eyes?” I could hear the amusement in his tone. I fought back a smile myself.

Somehow he had fallen for me. I wasn’t what anyone would expect. I had straight dark hair. No one would have thought it’d been dyed more colors than a rainbow unless they took a look at my adolescent photos. I had a plain brown eyes. No one would have expected that I used to rim it with layers of black eyeliner. I wear suits and carry a briefcase around. No one would have noticed my body full of tattoos and high alcohol tolerance. I was widely respected in the business world. No one would have pictured me laying in bed with a man who was seen completely opposite of what he looked like.
We were two people who were seen as something but someone else entirely. And we were the only two people who saw who the other really was. We were two people who had fallen in love. I breathed a laugh.

Nothing today…just ask.” I heard him lightly chuckle as he moved back and laid me down straight up. The sheets covered me as he held himself up on his side with an arm with his other hand still on my stomach.
“Will you please open your beautiful eyes for me to see, baby?” My eyelids fluttered before I opened them fully. I carefully turned in his arms so I could lie on my back, and found jade green orbs staring back at me. His eyes slightly lit up at the site of mine, for some odd reason. His hand slid up from my stomach to my cheek and slowly stroked his thumb under my eye biting his lip. He leaned in pressing his full lips to mine as our bodies molded together. He lingered, lightly breathing on me, holding me tightly to his chest before pulling back keeping his lips at a comfortable distance in case he found the urge once more to kiss me.
“Good afternoon my love…” he murmured staring into my eyes as his hair mixed with mine and his warmth spread to my body. I smiled sliding a hand to his neck lightly holding and keeping him in his same position.
“Afternoon already?” I asked. He nodded, smiling wider.

Did you sleep well?”

Best in awhile, actually,” I told him. He seemed happy with that thought. “So what are we doing today?” He laughed a little.
“Today? Nothing… I just wanna stay in bed with you.” I smiled widely leaning in stealing a kiss from him.
“Sounds good. I’ll call in some food… you have to go down and get it though.” I lightly smirked as he laughed and nodded.

Ok…only for you.” I looked at his eyes seeing the light green and blue around the edges with a darker green surrounding the irises. He had the most incredible eyes. Like seeing my entire life, is what it boiled down to.
“I love you…” I smiled hearing the words I’ve heard for the past few years and knew I would hear for the rest of my life as well.
“I love you too…” He leaned in and gave me a kiss I’d never forget.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

You Bleed Just to Know You're Alive

Mood:  :/
Hating:  how my feet and legs hurt.
Loving:  JD and coke.
Lip-syncing:  Goo Goo Dolls -- Iris (this song NEVER gets old)


Just a quick life update. I finished my last exam on Saturday, had a depressing and lonely Easter, and started a new job at a french bistro. I'm still working my cashier job at Osmow's Grill, the little Mediterranean restaurant from before. It's awesome there, and the other employees are very entertaining. But I got offered a serving position at this place in Streetsville called Bistro Chezanne, and it's very appealing; at least to me.

Problem is, I'm not exactly a classy person. If the fact that my favourite alcohol is Jack Daniels wasn't a strong indication, all the things I have to learn now is lol. Who knew fine dining could be so difficult? I have to admit though, the main attraction for me is the tip money. I mean, I've only been working for about three days, and I've made about $130. It may not seem like a lot of others, but to a student trying to scrounge together enough for another semester's tuition, it's pretty awesome.

Thing is, I can't help but feel a little inferior. I have friends who are doing PR internships, marketing and advertising work, and volunteering at Rogers and what not. And here I am, working two minimum wage jobs during my summer. They're off getting real work experience in the field we're studying (Media Studies, for those who weren't aware of what I'm in university for) while I'm stuck balancing two dead end jobs. Well, to be fair, they're not completely dead end; they're just not the careers I wish to pursue. I just feel like I might be wasting valuable time and effort. I can't help but feel resentful, except I have no where to direct it. It's not my friends' fault that they have the right connections and are able to find these positions for the summer, nor can I be angry at them for not having the same financial worries that I do. And, contrary to some people's opinions, I can't necessarily be angry at my parents for not wanting to help me with my university education. They were adamant and clear about not supporting my life choice, but I chose to continue with it anyway.

So it really just comes down to me. Which is where it should, I suppose. But still, sometimes I wish there was somewhere I could just direct this...bitterness. I want to be happy for my friends, I want to enjoy my summer, and I want to just kick back and relax for a bit, yet I know it's not something I can afford to do. And I know lots of others are in my aching, tired shoes as well.

There really is no deep, psychological reasoning behind this post. Nor do I have an epiphany to share with you. I really just wanted to rant for a bit. Because what else is a personal blog, if not an outlet for your emotions? They may not completely rational or reasonable, but you can't always be that way. At least I think so. How boring would your life be if you approached everything situation and every aspect with a logical, organized perspective? Or maybe that's just me. Perhaps that's why I'm stuck working two minimum wage jobs, working ridiculous hours on my feet catering to others' requests. Who knows.

But now that all that negativity is free, I'm going to share something a little more positive with you. I want this blog to be happier (remember my New Years Resolution? Probably not; I forgot myself for awhile haha), so I'm going to post my picture of the day. This made me grin, and so I hope it makes your day a little better as well. Enjoy!
Always believe you can :-)

Friday, March 18, 2011

Here We Go Like It Never Ended

Mood:  hard to say; tired, of course, but in modestly good spirits.
Hating:  the pressure and stress of school.
Loving:  how it seems as though spring has arrived!
Lip-syncing:  Bleeker Ridge -- Small Town Dead


Oh, my poor neglected blogspot blog!

I am so sorry. With school, work, and an amazing concert last weekend, I've lost track of my blogging. Well, no, that's a lie. I've actually had a few other endeavors to distract me. Not only am I in the middle of a documentary (a school assignment), and building websites (also for school), I've also gotten a Tumblr and begun feeling out a potential new blog style idea with a few international friends.
Fate and Dreams Can Collide
Feel free to head on over and follow, or just admire more of my mind's randomness; just in more of a photo format. But speaking of photos...

I like this one a lot. This isn't from last weekend, but I think it expresses how I feel about concerts well. I love physically feeling the music, and seeing the passion of the musicians onstage. It's just insanity, especially when you pair Buckcherry and Papa Roach together.

There is one more thing I want to share with you, but that will have to wait just a little bit. It hasn't quote been planned all the way through, but let's just say it will be quite the international experience once we pull it together. Stay tuned!

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Canadians Should Make Like the Egyptians

I didn't know about it until right now, which is absolutely shameful. The CRTC, the Canadian Radio and Television Commission of Canada, just approved a motion through which the major broadband providers in the country can now charge Canadians on the basis of "usage based billing". Which translates pretty much into a pay-per-use method, where the companies get to set the price.

We could be charged for every GB we use!

Having a 60GB cap on the internet during the Web 2.0 world is just ridiculous. We have to fight this. Or else we're going to end up doing this.

So head on over to
Sign, and start spreading the word and fighting.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Watch Me As I Fall

Mood:  frustrated, tired.
Hating:  this paper I'm suppose to be writing.
Loving:  that classes might be canceled tomorrow; yay snow!...But not really...
Lip-syncing:  Ry Cuming -- Always Remember Me



He’d always been fascinated by circles. Even as a child, the lack of corners and continuous lines were always incredibly interesting. Circles carry weight, and meaning. They can be full, or empty. They represent eternity; never-ending. Life isn’t.
He could feel the rain splatter against his face through the opening in the woods. He want this to be secluded, where no one will be able to find him, at least not immediately anyways. This is the perfect place.
It's storming, the sky full of foreboding clouds, blocking out the sun though it is nowhere near nightfall. He takes one last look at the dark greens of the pine needles and the rich browns of the tree trunks. If all went as planned, it would be the last thing he saw. Though some might find it dark and somewhat depressing, the scenery is rather beautiful. The rain is essential, seeming to match the immense emotion drowning him.

He closes his eyes, trying not to picture her face in his mind. It had been haunting him ever since that dreadful day, seemingly so long ago. But the image still comes; her long flowing hair, her soothing soulful eyes, her soft voice whispering in his ear. With his sight shut off to the world, he can still feel her with him, as if she was never missing from his life in the first place. But the reality was that she, in fact, was gone – taken away from him on a night much like this one, by the cruel, snapping jaws of death.

He sighs, shaking his head to attempt to rid his thoughts of her. It brings too much heartache, and yet he never want to look at anything but her. She was an angel, perfect in her imperfections. He longs for her, even now.
He brings his hand up to his head, the muscles of his arm rippling from the extra weight gripped between his fingers. Without opening his eyes, he could feel the smooth, cold metal raise slight goose bumps along his skin. The circle of the barrel rests against his temple. His right hand begins to shake as the rain pours down harder. He can hear the rolling thunder in the distance and, even with his eyes closed, can see the white flashes against the darkness of his mind as the lightning strikes. Taking one last breath, he grips the trigger, his finger threatening to slip.

It was a rainy night, the road slick with water. They were coming back from dinner, celebrating their four year anniversary, the wipers on high, whipping the water off the windscreen. Their hands were linked together over the center console of the car, fingers interlocking perfectly. It was always the little things that made him realize she was meant for him, which was why this night was such a crucial one. I glanced over.
   "What?" she asked innocently.
   "Did you enjoy yourself tonight?" I asked, looking at the road momentarily before facing her again.
   "Yes, I did. But I think I'll have more fun once I get you back home," she spoke, a sweetness coating her voice, but with a mischievous glint in her eyes. I felt her hand squeeze mine once and smiled back at her, looking toward the road.

I thought about the black velvet box in my pants pocket, knowing that whatever was on her mind was going to have to wait. Just a little while more. The mere thought of what I was going to do once we arrived home brought a grin once again to my face along with a fluttering in his stomach.

We were almost home, at the intersection that was just five blocks from it coming up as I drove. I had no idea what was about to happen, but if I could have changed it, I would have. Glancing over as we reached the intersection, I saw the blinding headlights. The next thing I knew, my hand was being ripped from hers, my body slamming into the door as the car spun out of control.

It was a tumultuous whirlwind; the screeching of metal, the shattering of glass, the startled cries filling the air. After what seemed like minutes, the car finally squealed to a stop. Everything was silent, save for the pattering of rain. My eyes were closed, a searing pain swimming in my head. I could feel a cool breeze lazily brushing against my cheek.
I slowly opened my eyes, coming face to face with the steering wheel, my airbag not deployed from the impact. My first coherent thought ran straight to her and, despite the splitting pain in my head, I turned to her quickly.

I couldn’t seem to stop shaking, but I managed to raise my quivering arm across the console. She was in the seat, crunched between the console between us and the door. Her head was hung limp, her body slouched forward. I presumed the seat belt was the only thing keeping her upright. The window to her door was smashed in, glass littering the flesh on her right side, from what I could make out. I called out to her, panic seizing my body as I reached my hand out to her shoulder, shaking her gently. Her head rocked to the side, lying at a funny angle from her neck. There was a trail of blood coming down the side of her head from the top of her face; there was a gash wound right at the hairline. The pit of my stomach dropped as I swallowed hard. 

My door was jammed shut but after a few forceful kicks, I was able to get out. I dug in my pocket for my phone, instantly dialing the emergency number programmed into most children's heads. The call was rushed; I had no idea how the man on the line could even understand a single word I said. It seemed like forever before the ambulance arrived. I had repeatedly tried to get the passenger side open, but it was crunched tightly together with the rest of the car from the accident.
It was then, after giving up, that I noticed the other car - the one that hit us. It was only a few yards away from me and as I neared it, I could hear incoherent mumbling and moaning emitting from the driver. I wanted to rip his body from the car and show him what he had done, but the sound of sirens and the nearing ambulance drew my attention back to her motionless body, lying in the car like an abandoned rag doll.
Doing their jobs, the paramedics quickly exited the ambulance, rushing to the car as I stood there and watched without a sound, slowly becoming drenched in rain as it continued to fall all around. I observed them from my position as they crawled to her from the driver's side, knowing just by looking that her door couldn’t be forced open. I didn’t even feel my feet move, carrying me back to her as a policeman approached the other car.
I was within earshot of the paramedics. They weren't doing anything in an attempt to get her body from the car, and I was confused. That was, until I heard three little words that changed everything.
   "She's already gone," one of them said. I suppose I already knew deep in my heart even before the meds arrived that she was gone, but hearing the words from someone else made it seem all the more real.
He was placed in a black body bag on the wet pavement, and I caught one last look at her beautiful face, smeared with blood, before the zipper was pulled up.
The last thing I cared to remember from that stormy night was turning to see the driver of the other car with his hands behind his back, an officer cuffing them together. His eyes met mine, but I could not make out the emotions I found. I'm sure he could see the pure hatred I felt toward him just by looking at me though. And then he was carted away, thrown into the back of the police car, and I never saw him again. Not that I would have wanted to anyways. He took away the one thing that mattered more than anything else in the world to me, and for that, he could never be forgiven.
The depression I slipped into following the accident was painful enough to rival the actual events of that night. I had gotten away with mere scratches on my arms and a bruised kneecap. But she received the full blow. And I regretted that. If I could have changed anything about that night, I would have taken longer to pay the bill, or gone to the bathroom, or even would have made her drive. As cliche as it sounded, I'd have rather given up my life so that she could live. It would have been better than the torment I went through for a solid month. 

I'd think of nothing but her during the day and would pray relentlessly for sleep to consume me, only to find that she haunted my dreams. I'd wake up and see her lying next to me, peacefully asleep, but it was never real. Just an illusion before my eyes that my head made up to somehow ease the pain. But it didn't help; if anything, it just made it all worse. It was as if I were tormenting myself, showing her to me, knowing I could never have her back. The pain and suffering ate away at me until finally, I had decided enough was enough. It was time to end it.

He drags himself from the bed on this overcast day and peers under it to the metal safe box. He knows full well what lies inside of it. He pulls out the safe, unlocks it, and comes face to face with his nightmare and saviour. As he had stares, the demon refracts what little light had struggled through the dingy curtains he never bothered to opened anymore. She never saw it. No one even knew about it, yet he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it. It was the tiny little bit of her he had left. He grasps it so tightly that the razor-sharp edges of the ring setting would pierce through his skin, reflecting a minuscule amount of his emotional pain. And with his other hand, he traces his salvation. His index finger lightly ran down the side of the barrel. A shiny silver pistol, with his name written all over it. 

Wiping the trails of tears from his cheeks, he reaches down and picks the gun up. It's heavy and smooth beneath his fingers and gives him a feeling of reassurance, that once everything was over it would all be okay. He would be okay. It would be okay. All of it. And that was all the reassurance he needed to get the job done.

So he leaves the house.
The answering machine in the kitchen is blinking madly, loaded
with unreturned calls. Why would he bother with the machine if it wasn't her calling him? He let it be. He wants to live out his own life to the very last day. This very last day.

He marches through the back yard, out to the farthest reaches of the property, and then even further past the line of trees. It starts to rain, the clouds quickly closing in over top of him, almost as if nature knew what was about to take place. But he keeps going. He's searching for that place; the tree-less rounded patch of land right in the middle of the forest. It was their spot. And that's how he ended up here, all alone, with nothing but a pistol pressed against his head.

The thunder crashes around him once more, and he jumps, startled from the noise. He wants to open his eyes but he doesn’t, because this is the end. This is final. He didn’t want to open them and see something that might draw him away from what he needed to do.

And then he hears it. Her voice. It's far off, almost like she's come to find him, trying to get him to come back to her. It isn't in his head this time, and he almost feels that if he just opened his eyes, he would see her, standing just a few feet away, beckoning him to her.

The lightning strikes and the thunder roars again. The rain dripping down his hand and the gun causes his finger to slip and he squeezes harder, trying to tighten his grip on the trigger. He has two circles with him now. Circles are infinite; never broken. Life-changing.

Like an engagement ring.

Or the end of a gun barrel.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Turn My Sorrow Into Treasured Gold

Hating:  how I'm still sick.
Loving:  the snow...for now.
Lip-syncing:  Adele -- Rolling In The Deep


Sometimes I find more comfort in my world of words than my reality...