Our reunion ended on a cliffhanger, where *Skins SPOILERS* Tony gets hit by a bus, Sid finds Cassie, and Angie breaks up with Chris. But finishing a season means we have the chance to start something new (or resume another show), and we tend to alternate between comedy and drama, sweet and savoury, while surrounded by kitties in the little nest we make for ourselves.
Cats warm their balls in your hair and make eye contact to show dominance.
I didn’t realize how hard it was to go a whole month without her until I saw her again. The time we’ve spent over the last few years has made me comfortable enough to let my guard down, and it’s good to be reminded that we’re capable of such things every now and then, especially when still dealing with trust issues and emotional trauma.
The things we share are often small and simple, as they’re mostly about pleasures and we’re easily pleased. Actually, it’s more like she’s easily pleased, while I’m pleased when others are happy. It’s a dynamic that works really well for both of us. I love myself when I’m with her cause she appreciates me in all the intricate ways I want to be appreciated, and that gives me a lot of the validation I need in my life right now.
It’s all a bit of a blur now, especially since we agree it feels like it’s been a year since my responsibilities as a son and a cousin and a friend in Toronto. I do remember trying to balance the caffeine — so I could be clear-headed and enjoying myself — with the insomnia that comes from having so much energy every night. Also, these acts of guerrilla happiness where messages of hope were expressed through posters and spray paint. It would appear that vandalism crosses over into art only in cities with a skyline worth mentioning.
We ended up at the Ontario Science Centre twice, once as nerds and again as wedding guests, which worked out cause the only exhibit we didn’t get a chance to see one day ended up being the only exhibit open to us during the reception. The highlight is always the planetarium though, in all it’s bean-bag, time-traveling glory, the experience itself worth the price of admission. With the exception of a poor facsimile of dragon’s beard candy, everything worked out.
Continue reading “the distances we travel, and yet how far we’ve still to sail”…
Holy shit how did this song find me in the middle of blanketing white snowfall, instead of summer? I’ll take it either way. I’ve needed a new addiction after too many maudlin jazz albums, too often fuelled by hard-living and a woman. This means I’m ready for a taste of warm weather. I miss the wind through my clothes and the smell of girls’ skin when it’s been touched by sweat and sunlight.
I’m in the process of simplifying, which has meant figuring out my priorities, and truly letting go of the things I don’t need, whether it’s a bad habit or relationship or thought. Maybe this is why I haven’t been feeling my age; it feels like I’m constantly starting over in various parts of my life.
This hasn’t made writing any easier. I’m always waiting for a feeling to last, but it tends to pass before I have a chance to get it down on paper. Maybe the instability is what I should be writing about. Not about who I am, but how much things are changing.
Audra recently wrote about how frustrating it is when she can’t get into a state of permanence. She said it particularly well here: “I know it is not realistic for all progress to be linear, or for things to be able to become constant once they become good. But I sure do daydream about it.” It makes me feel so validated when someone is able to put into words the things I’ve been going through without having talked about it with them.
My dad asks if I want to get a picture before we start, Lisa says he must know me very well.
In between: Chris finally kisses Angie. It’s a goodnight kiss while her creepy colleague is asleep in the same room, yet somehow manages to be the sweetest first-kiss ever. I start to grow my hair out and wear it down, out of boredom. People say it fits me. Byron brings me his toys so I’ll toss them again, and I begin to wonder who’s training who. Lisa meets my dad. We finally watch True Romance and Gary Oldman becomes my new favourite actor. I rack up over 150 hours played in Awesomenauts this year, and I’ve made online friends (it’s weird). Assad loses another general to the rebels, there’s still no end in sight after three years of fighting, and otherwise I remain blissfully ignorant to the world.
I can tell I’ve had enough of winter when I start to enjoy the days above 0 more than the ones below. Those are the days when the air is clear without being frigid, and you’re only cold when sun isn’t on your skin. I know I’ll be okay when such heralds of warm weather appear. Spring is coming just in time this year.
Constant plans and new projects are making the weeks pass as quickly as ever, only now I mark the time by my days with Lisa. We’ve set aside every other Thursday for each other, and it’s the only commitment I have in my life now, something I haven’t had the pleasure of sharing with someone in a while.
Step one in making cat food: get over the fact that the souls of a million chickens will eventually haunt you at night for grinding up their hearts.
She recently started helping me make my own cat food, which involves her schlepping a meat grinder, vitamin supplements, and giant tub to my place every time, but she loves taking care of my cats as much as I do. We can both agree it’s well worth the effort when seeing how much they appreciate fresh meat and how healthy it makes them.
The rest of our time is spent with Miley Highrus and Zelda Hitzgerald, sharing the things we’ve grown to love by ourselves as much as the things we’ve yet to experience together, watching Skins and learning that I like Chris cause Chris likes Angie and I really like Angie. Some weeks, this is the only time we have off from the rest of our respective lives, and the things we can share only in person make it all the more special.
I can’t help but question what I know about love and happiness and truth and the world and myself. I’ve been trying to let go of the things I understand and the way I feel, giving myself time to let everything settle, but embracing the groundlessness hasn’t been easy. It often leaves me feeling very much out of my element no matter what I’m doing, and longing for some semblance of stability. The most I can do is keep in mind that there’s no pressure to be a certain way, and that answers will come in their own time.
Few people have been able to fill the void lately. The ones who do sing to me the unashamedly erotic songs of John Dowland and help me test new decks.
Through it all, I’ve been trying to take five breaths every now and then, inhaling and exhaling a little more fully than usual. Trying not to live like it’s a friday every day. Trying to figure out if I should apologize for using your song to score the moments I shared with someone else. Trying to reconcile my old Taoist beliefs with my new Buddhist views. Trying to be happy with the person I am, instead of letting discontent drive self-improvement.
Frigid winter days are teaching me patience and vulnerability. Some are easier than others. I’ve been working with the fickle swings instead of against them. Otherwise, it’s a constant struggle when trying to impose static order on inherently unstable processes. The hard part is making plans when you don’t know how you’ll feel from one day to the next.
Back in the day when we were doing covers of Frank Ocean songs. One of the most recognizable things about Jesse’s room are instruments strewn about.
The greatest test of my progress so far will be an acoustic show Jesse asked me to play with him on Sunday. Anxiety has been getting the better of me lately, and the prospect of having only two nights of rehearsal does nothing to assuage this.
I’ve been keeping in mind that we were able to pull off a decent performance last time when I didn’t know the show was going to happen until a few hours prior; one of those exercises to foster positive experiences and combat negativity bias. Fortunately, Jesse is a great frontman to be behind, cause he commands the attention of anyone watching, also taking the attention away from nervous fingers and live jitters.
The journey of self-discovery has been difficult. When there’s a history of trauma, it’s inevitable that an uncomfortable feelings get stirred up every now and then. I take care of myself by making sure I see the important people on a consistent basis and living in those moments. The little ways to heal are found in both the experiences themselves and the time one takes to internalize those experiences.
This is how I learn that self-compassion isn’t self-pity, and that most people bring less kindness to themselves than to others. To get on my own side, I’ve been visualizing myself as a child, just as worthy of care as any other. I would wish the best for that little person, and it helps me understand that I should wish the best for myself as well.