Imagine:

That you are not inside the world. You are not inside a body. You are not tied down or connected to anything. You are a mind, a spirit. Nothing more.
You are floating above the earth. You see everything. People, actions, thoughts, dreams, hopes, ideas, desires. You see sin and you see justice. You see poverty, wealth and greed. You see lust and you see love.
But you're not concerned. You're objective. Removed from the situation. None of this affects you. You have no right to be angry, you have no right to be happy. You don't control the actions of the people you see, you can't even converse with them. You can't take pleasure in what they do, because none of it is due to what you have done. You are alone.
Now imagine that you are involved. You can change the outcomes, it's all under your control. Does that change how you respond? Are you angry at a woman as she takes off her rings and cheats on her husband? Or do you blame yourself for not stopping her. Maybe you did stop her, maybe the adulterous deed never took place. But that's removal of free will. Perhaps you are the one in the wrong now.
Are you?
Imagine this is your world. You can leave it alone, give it up as a lost cause. Or you can nurture it, as a mother nurtures her child. Allowing mankind to make their mistakes, always pulling them back before they destroy themselves.
Imagine, you are god.
What do you do? Are you controlling? Are you loving? Are apathetic and occasionally malevolent, toying with the humans who are within your control.
Well? What do you do? Your god now. Do something already.

Oh, you're not sure are you?
Give it a rest then. Shut up and give God some credit. Because if it was you in the big chair, you wouldn't be doing much better.
Be happy with what you are. Because you aren't capable of being anything else.

Well, the experiment hath failed.

I've realized that I simply don't have the energy to write about my life. I don't enjoy it. Emotions are fine, poetic musing about my situation is fine. Writing about where I am and what I'm doing- not so fine. I'm just not cut out to be an autobiographer and that's the long and short of it.
I think I'll stick to poetry from here on out. Poetry and prose.
But that means limiting myself.
Never mind then, I won't limit myself. But I won't force myself either. There will be no more posts that I do not wish to write. I will post only what I feel is necessary to post about, only what comes naturally the moment I sit down.
Forget trying to let people know where I am and what I'm doing. If my mind doesn't pull it out of thin air, I'm not going to write it. I won't write to keep other's happy. I'm doing this for me and no one else.
So there.

Well, I have failed in my mission

of writing alot about my trip to Japan.
This computer is the second computer I have seen on the whole two week trip. The oh-so-technologically advanced Japanese do not use computers. But that's because they have amazing cell phones, so they don't need computers.
Anyways, I fly home today. Today. I'm not sure that I want to leave, but I realize that the trip has to end sometime, and now is just as good as any other. And despite the fact that this means I'll have only posted twice during my stay in Japan, and never posted about what we actually have done here, I'll likely be posting for weeks to come about how amazing it was being in Japan.
It has been amazing; amazing and utterly life changing.
But now it's time to say goodbye.
Not because my plane leaves now, (it doesn't leave for another five hours,) but because I'm running out of pay as you go net service.
more later.

(Or not)

These Few Days

Well, it's been a few days since my last post, a few days containing a whirlwind of long bus rides, singing toilet seats, public baths, bright neon signs, bullet trains, lush green mountains, Okonomiyaki, Shinto shrines, tatami mat hotels, vending machines that cater to every needimaginable and more porn than I have seen in my life thus far. It's been a few days of drama, a few days of sickness, and a few days of rather insane R rated jokes. Japan is amazing.
Yes I meant that about the singing toilet seats. Oftentimes we think that Japan is oh-so-much more technologically superior to us, in reality they just have a lot of really useless technology. Like toilet seats that sing when you sit down on them. It's actually really disturbing.
I honestly had no clue that lit up signs came in some of the colours I've seen here. I also wasn't aware that these signs could cover fifty metre walls. It's rather surprising to note that despite the mass production and powered up use of all this bizarre technology, Japan is still as vibrantly green as it is. And when I say vibrantly, I mean vibrantly. The mountains here put the North shore to shame.
The vending machines here have been a bit of a shock. You can buy everything in a vending machine. Ipods, disposable cameras, paint, drinks, ice cream, makeup, tampons, and yes, even porn. I think Japanese society today might just revolve around pornography. I wish I was joking, but I`m not. They sell it everywhere. In bookstores, on the street, in tourist stands and in seven-elevens. Nudity is a big ticket item here. So is alcohol. In Canada, you have to go to a liquor store to buy alcohol. Here you can just go to the nearest vending machine. You want some harder liquers? Just visit the nearest convenience store. You don't even need ID.
It's a different world over here. There is no crime, I swear it. No petty theft, no underage drinking, not even litter on the streets. The people around here are so aware of society's panoptic nature that they never do anything wrong. It's amazing.

And that's about all that I have to say for now. I'm so tired that I'm losing my vision, and my email isn't working so I can't contact my parents. I have an incredibly long bus ride to live through tomorrow, and it is so hot that I am sweating through my clothes so fast that I'm running out of things to wear. I want to stay here forever, or better yet, I want the whole world to be just like this.

We are leaving

in just over four hours
I have to be at the airport in two hours
we'll be on the plane for ten hours
and I won't sleep for any of it.

We'll be in Japan in just over a day
I don't know if I will survive the first day
and we're staying there for thirteen days
and I might not eat for any of it.

We've been waiting since October last year
I will remember this trip as the trip of the year
We'll wish we could stay there for a whole year
and I might not sleep for any of it.

I have a policy by the way...

A policy which I haven't mentioned yet: I'm not editing these posts at all. Once posted, my posts are final. There's no going back and changing things. I might delete posts, but I'm not doing touch ups. This is a writing experiment. I'm writing whatever I feel or want to write about, and then I'm leaving it there. Everything is as it was the first time round, no second comings, no rough drafts.
This is me. Unfiltered, unaltered, although perhaps a little one-sided.
Just thought I'd mention that.

The Milk Run

15 minutes of pure torture.
nothing to distract you from the pain in your legs.
nothing to help you keep going.
nothing to make it any easier than it is.
torture.

15 minutes of hell.
your arms burn, your face flames.
your sweat trails rivers down your back.
your mind wishes to be somewhere- anywhere else.
hell.

15 minutes of determination.
if you're too slow, you'll get a bad mark.
if it actually takes you 15 minutes, everyone will laugh.
if you fall and hurt yourself- they'll laugh harder.
determination.

Everything

Everything I seem to post lately is poetry or prose. I'm getting a bit bored of it, but I'm not sure I have the energy to write a good short story.
Everything I've posted recently has been rather negative. None of it reflects the insanely happy vibes I'm feeling right now.
Everything I've been up to these days has kept me away from the computer. I haven't posted too much recently, and what I hhave posted has all been posted relatively close together.
Everything I'm feeling right now is not coming out as easily as I'd hoped it would. My emotions don't want to leave my mind today.

Anyways... I'm going to be really busy this week (so I probably won't manage to post much), prepping for my upcoming trip to Japan. (I'm leaving next Saturday.) While I'm in Japan, I'll be posting as frequently as possible. Most of what I post will be about what we've been doing, where we are, some pictures, etc. I'm going with some kids from my school (it's a school trip, there will be teachers as well), so I'll be posting to keep folks back home updated.

Yeah... that covers just about everything.
Oh, and, Happy Mother's Day. :)

Secrets

are like dirty bags of garbage
tied up and hidden
in the basement
just waiting for someone to stumble across them
catching you in the act

Secrets
are like flowers
that look pretty
but smell horrible
you never know until morning, when they open their faces to the sky
and you smell the scent of festering flesh

Secrets
are like nitrogen bombs
they make you feel powerful
just because you have them
but if they explode while they're still in your hands
you're going to get hurt

Secrets
are like chains
you thought would make you free
but they don't
they fetter you to the ground waiting to expose you
for what you really are

Secrets
i have too many
they make me feel powerful
even as they bind me to my seat
they're just waiting for someone to stumble accross them
and take a whif of their putrid scent
exposing me for what i really am.

Praise and the Praiseworthy

Today I was thinking about praise and the praiseworthy. Or rather, I was failing at trying not to. Sometimes, one wants so much to be something that one is not. I myself am entirely and irremediably nervous. I want people to love me. I want people to think that I am praiseworthy. Yet somehow I can't see myself the way I want to be seen.

Sometimes we cannot believe that we deserve the praise we wish to earn, and yet we cannot quite believe that we do not deserve it. It's pretty crazy how I find myself chasing my own tail, wanting to be praiseworthy, yet not believing that I am at the same time.

But I guess life is like that. We are not afraid of our own inadequacy, instead we are afraid of our own beauty, of our talents. In the end, aren't we all sure of our own praiseworthiness? Are we only denying that we do not believe ourselves to be praiseworthy in the first place? What is modesty anyways?

Perhaps we'll never know.

Devil in the Details

Today I realized that my math teacher pronounces calculator wrong. It made me smile, but it also bothered me, just a little bit.
I noticed as I rode my bike home yesterday that as the wheels spin, they hit my gears, creating just a little click.
Every crack that's in the pavement
Little things which pass you by
These things just drive me crazy
And I can't say really why.
A week ago last sunday I realized that my mother has a mole on her left cheek, it twitches while she talks.
And on a school trip I noticed that my best friend looks like a deranged penguin when she walks.
Every crack that's in the pavement
Little things which pass you by
These things just drive me crazy
And I can't say really why.
I went through testing as a little child. The doctors said they'd say if there was something wrong with me.
And yet I cometimes can't help wondering if they didn't tell the truth, if they left something out to make it easy.