i want to go home

and so i was,
high in the snow
overlooking the cliffs and mountains,
a fog, like a cloud, sinking low.
and the evergreens,
extending into a massive grey,
i interpreted as the ocean.

and so i was,
lying by myself,
in the snow.
it was quiet. couldn't hear anything.
it was strange.
i'm so used to the sound of traffic,
to the noise of everything colliding,
like a thousand thoughts
at once.

and so i was,
almost home.
a thousand words i
dont know how to say,
that i interpreted as longing.
...but nothing really makes sense.
i'm not home until i stop leaving

and not so sure if i'll ever come back.

----------------------------------

i was sitting here, i a pastor's office in port alberni, reflecting on a weekend of crazy running around and sledding... and i started writing. what started out as a kickin' blog turned into the start of my article for "under the couch", my school's newspaper.

i'll make sure to save you a copy. good night.

something like that

so my random adventures are taking me to port alberni for new years eve, and then victoria for a day, then home for coffee and writing.

my preparations for this adventure include the drinking of some green tea, and the watching of rocky 2. i watched rocky balboa with my brother last night- the last thing that we get to do as brothers for a long time- and oh man! so good!

so, the highlights of my christmas season, i might as well waste time talking about... the lowlights are irrelevant at this point;

1) pints with my brother and brother in law at Longwood, nanaimo's brewery
2) my brother doing kareoke', and impressing many a girl
3)walking through the mall trying to act real
4) spent way too much on clothes. after all, clothing makes a man (broke)
5) all my favorite DVDs for christmas (including "sisterhood of the travelling pants)
6) took a two hour walk to the ocean- where i lived block away from during the summer.
7) took a walk in the woods behind my summer place
8) a dark roast at a place called Haz Beans
9) saw my dad
10) leaned against a tree and cryed (this should be a lowlight)
11) contemplated article ideas
12) missed home. a lot.
12) wished it was snow (yes, there are two 12s)
13) stood on my mom's back deck, thinking about life, with a cup of wine
14) didn't read a single book, or write a single article
15) realized how dry my christmas season has been.
16) drank a pot of tea

oh, and 17) i straightened my hair today, so i could make people think i'm cool. it's supposed to go curly again as soon as i shower... so i should have straight hair for a week or so.

good times.

well, i'm off. friends, photographs, and stories to follow.

like standing beside my bathroom window

outside the birds and traffic collided
in a sound
the air was kind of cold,
and fresh
it reminded me of home,
like standing beside my bathroom window,
every morning
taking in the waking air.
now everything seems to remind me of home,
every breath, every sense and sound.
every pink sky is a longing to run.

and every open window is kind of cold,
every doorway reminds me of you.
i can't help but let myself feel vain,
don't mind me. i'm just lost again.

it was grace that brought me there thus far,
and grace will lead me home.

its not home

i feel angry right now,
i have nowhere to go,
would you belive me?

and i feel like you don't listen,
you put up a wall to protect yourself,
from my anger. from my shit.
told me to take care of my own. i am.
no one wants to listen.

i'm bottling everything up right now,
i don't know who to call here. i want to run home,
away from this.
i hate who i am here... i'm not allowed to be angry.
would you believe me?

i started typing up this big long rant about why i feel like crap. but i got rid of it. i'm just trying to find a way to express, without having to feel like i'm just complaining, or acting like a idiot. don't mind me... i'll try again later

--------------------------------------------------

there are things you would not believe
that travel into my mind
i swear i try and capture them
but always set ‘em free
it seems bad things comfort me

-derek webb

identity and vanity

i've officially stopped trying to identify with my family. in fact, i've stopped believing that anyone in my family gives a shit about what i think... or struggle with.

and i've never felt more selfish in my entire life.

loneliness and ginger tea

sometimes i read my past blogs... and i am embarassed.

does anyone think i'm dwellng too much on my "being alone"? just say yes. i'll admit, it, i'm a pretty lonely guy sometimes. and, i get bummed about the fact that i'm single a lot. i'm pretty much like every other single guy who goes to CBC

but whatever. i like being single right now. it's always a challenge trying to enjoy the gift of "singleness", without always being anxious about it, or as bible school men put it "on the prowl" looking for miss right. alright guys, lets all stop worrying about the hunt for a "ring by spring" and start treating women as our sisters (who we, assumably, treat well). i think women deserve more than our cheesy one-liners, serial-crushing, and generally self-seeking ways.

so, maybe i should stop dwelling on my aloness and give people some calls. or go for more walks of solitude, and write less blogs... or just go for more walks (advice i have officially given to myself).

in other news, i have a lousy cough that i've taken about 5 or so different things to try and fight. one of which is a harsh home-style tea consisting of fresh ginger, lemon, and maple syrup. hooo! has some nice kick to it.

anyway, blah, this is the worst blog i've ever written. now that i have complely cheapened everything i wrote about in my last blog, i am calling it a day.

the ocean is a block away

yesterday morning i wandered through some trails behind my sister's house. a small forest, probably not very captivating, was clear cut to make way for ocean-view properties. it was clear enough that i could see a long stretch of untouched ocean, and just overcast enough that i couldn't fully enjoy it. life is like that sometimes. we are given places that are immensely beautiful to explore right outside out front doors, but it becomes too familiar. our boredom with our surroundings leads us to try and improve them- replacing God's artistry with human architechture. our backyards become, as donald miller puts it "the earth God meant to speak before we finished his sentence." sometimes our progress leaves little room for the words that God wants us to hear. in a sense, God speaks with us through the silence of creation, his artistry untouched by human hands. somehow we have forgotten how to listen.

the ocean was only a block away,
from the dirt filled hill overlooking suburban wasteland,
the perfect place for a monestary.
but the quiet seemed too lonely for me.

the traffic was too loud today,
passing by me, i was way too alone,
wondering if mine was a familar face to them.

my friends are all so busy today,
the reality of the holiday season.
i didn't come home to see my family.

i'm always looking for ways to not be alone,
always walking by myself.
the ocean is kinder a guest than i have been,
trying to speak kindly, while i hastened to listen.

6 hours later, and 2 hours wiser

brrr, it's kind of cold by this computer. and outside, for that matter. so, i took the long 6 hour journey from abbotsford to nanaimo, on the greyhound/bus yesterday, to spend tow weeks at my beautiful sister's house. for the most part it was really lonely and drab. the few items i packed for the ride made the trip a little enjoyable.

i would say that i loved at least two 1/2 hours of the ride. the first hour i loved consisted of a "rainforest" light roast from ethical addictions and chapter 18 of "Blue like Jazz". the half hour was driving through downtown vancouver, near science world and GM place. i thought, passing thorugh, how i so often take advantage of living so close to this city- and how i would rather complain about an overly long bus ride than be thankful that the bus ride allows the few moments of seeing God's artistry. the bus passed through stanley park, past trees that had been uprooted from wind storms two nights before- giant green masses covering the ground. wow.

And I know its not to get away from me,
You just need a change of scenery
So strange how everything went wrong so fast
And I hope that this confusion does not last
-city and color

so the last hour was spent on the ferry, at nightime. it was really cold, so i wandered around inside looking for some familiar faces. not a one. it was kind of a let down. i sat near the front of the ferry for awhile, listening to this guy playing guitar near one of the side doors. his voice was a deep resonating sound, kind of like an opera singer without the annoying vibrato that those people with perfect sounding voices have. personally, the singers i like the most aren't the ones that hit perfect notes, or try so hard for perfection that it just sounds awkward. i like the singers that sound honest, and embodied. the ones that have a real sounding quality to the words they sing, as if every word has some kind of deep meaningful connotation, that only the singer could fully appreciate. i dunno. i'm pretty much just adamant about having a "real" feel to everything. this is why i choose to buy organic coffee as opposed to starbucks- or actually making food as opposed to buying conveniently packaged food.

after listening to the guitar guy for awhile i stepped outside, into the cold winter air, wearing my ugly green hoody. it was really dark, and i could see the lights of vancouver in the distance, and the lights of small, boring vancouver island cities on the other side of the water. it was very calm and quiet, so all i could hear was the water rushing away from the sides of the ferry. after awhile the quiet and cold got kind of boring, so i sat alone inside some more.

My body aches
And it hurts to say
No one is moving
And I wish that I weren't here tonight
But this is my life.
-city and color

so, last night i sat around my sisters house, showing her some random items from my semester of heartbreak, bad grades, good beer, and poetry. i stole a bottle of kokanee from her fridge, watched a "muppet's christmas carol" and slept a good 9 hours.

in retrospect, it feels like a giant pile of weird being home. i can already sense the difference between the safe bubble of fun that is college and the real world. i would love to tell my family how much i've changed, but i don't think they would believe me. so, what i usually do when i get back to my old nanaimo life is try to BE the changed person that i am, and hope that something of the difference that i have experienced shines through. don't ask me how that works, because i have no idea.

to conclude, this is a list of things me, michelle, jon poonicus, and heather eperienced in whiterock, two days ago;

1) rode a handsome cab (of sorts) for two blocks
2) walked on the rocky beach- touching the ocean and throwing rocks into the blackness
3) stood beside the big "white rock" that the town is appearantly named after.
4) ate burgers and pastas in a surfer cafe.
5) drove down a long, dark road listening to deeeeep music
songs of choice;
a) regina spektor- samson
b) goo goo dolls- think about me
c) the shins- some random song
6) checked out a christmas concert called "Christmas Precence" with Abbotfords local jazz/folk/poetry sceners. one of which was Mr. Nelson Boschman himself. i told heather that we should both perform next year. and we so will.

so thats it. a long update on most of what i've been thinking / doing. we'll see how this whole "christmas" thing pans out this year. if it's as loveable as my autumn was this year i think it will be just fine.

oh, and PS- i totally passed by Manafest while boarding the greyhound in abbotsford. that was completely random. how often do you get to pass by a white rapper? who actually has talent? not often enough.

-to christmas, and taking stupid adventures

-adam

wasting my days and white rock

i love a good christmas party. i was supposed to go to nanaimo yesterday (and today) but i decided to extend my home-life by two days, to enjoy some downtime with friends. i kind of call abbotsford my home now, because my ridiculously expensive bed is here. among other items of comfort that i associate with home (friends, college, ethical addictions). theres not really any family here, but whatever. i can't miss them if they're not far away.

My office glows all night long.
It's a nuclear show and the stars are gone.
Elevator, elevator, take me home.
-stars

so, i definately partyed at heather's house last night, carving turkeys, eating cranberry sauce, sipping redish punch and granville island's "dopplebock". as always i got to break out my sarcasitic flirtatious party voice, with is kind of a mix between a 70s talk show host and groucho marx.

then there was a game called "apples to apples" which is, in my opinion, the ultimate cheesy/awkward/weird one liners game. i love one liners :D.

so then i woke up this morning, drank some green tea, realized it was two oclock, and i have no reasonable purpose to be awake today. hmm. it's kind of frustrating.

well, i do get to go to a Sheree Plett show tonight. so worth the extra day at home. and tommorow i get to take the 6 hour trek to nanaimo, which for the record is unheard of! i could jump in a car and be at the ferries in an hour, jump on the ferry for two hours and be home. rather, i'm jumping on a bus and driving for four hours, two hours on the ferry and there goes my entire day. i could drive to calgary in 6 hours, or i could go to the island in the same time. i tell ya.
------------------------------------------------------------
so anyway, heather toews just called me (my pawesome 5th year friend, which is unheard of in itself. i do not have any 4th/5th year friends, except for of course dustin siemens... but we never talk, so that doesen't count).

appearantly we're going to white rock today. holidays=random. speaking of random, i have never been to white rock, in my twentyish years in BC. thats just sad. frick, i wish my camera wasn't dead... actually, i don't care. my pens all still work- i'll just paint a picture with words later on (aka, i'll write).

alrighty. i'm off- details when i de-brief in nanaimo tommorow (or, de-boxer. he he).


-later

the same page

I want to keep my soul fertile for the changes, so things keep getting born in me, so things keep dying when it is time for things to die. I want to keep walking away from the person I was a moment ago, because a mind was made to figure things out, not to read the same page recurrently.

Only the good stories have the characters different at the end than they were at the beginning. And the closest thing I can liken life to is a book, the way it stretches out on paper, page after page, as if to trick the mind into thinking it isn't all happening at once.

-donald miller

sad stories and honesty

i remember when trust went for free
Sold for a smile on the face of a fantasy
Truth found her home in the pages of fairy tales
Decadent words formed the phrases for dreams that failed
Now trust is a costly commodity
Giving it away is the mark of absurdity
And truth is a homeless traveler
Hoping in the night to be found

-38th parallel, who am i

honesty hurts like hell. the aftermath at least. i was hanging out with some guys last night, and we drifted into this deeply personal conversation. i got to talk about things that i never get to, either because they are too taboo, too awkward, or just i don't know... too sad.

it hurts a lot bringing things to the surface- thinking critically about things that bring me deep sadness. when those kinds of things are brought out, we have to face the reality that we have them. deep secrets, struggles, hard memories... now my challenge is that i don't want them on the surface. i want to go back to hiding them and trying to fix how i am on my own.

but thats stupid. i can't heal unless i accept my wounds, and stop trying to hide them.

so let me just say what i'm really thinking, then i'll tell you a story from my formative years - aka, a event that happened in my childhood that has shaped what i am today.

i hate myself. or i just don't like myself at all, or belive that i am capable of being loved. i approach my relationships with the assumption that i am going to be rejected, so i try to win the approval and affirmation of people. i try too hard to impress people, i think. anyway- here is a story i told last night.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

i was suspended in grade 7, for the first time in my life. i was at a new school, and i wasn't fitting in all thay well. the suspension was for some stupid reason- throwing gravel rocks at a kid who was making fun of me.

my parents were separated at the time, and my dad was living in an airstream trailor in a campsite on nanaimo's jinglepot road. i stayed there that night. when my dad got really angry, he would have this rage filled face. i knew when he had that face there was no way to reason with him. my dad made me feel like an asshole. like i had made some stupid mistake, getting suspended. it felt like i was getting punished because i didn't fit in at school. it wasn't my fault, it was just the way i was. nobody wanted me that day. nobody wanted to hold me and say "its ok... it's ok".

to this day i feel like every mistake reflects on me. i feel like i make mistakes because i am an idiot, a mess-up who will never get anything right.

two days later i went back to school. i was depressed, not using the word lightly. i was goofing off in class, chucking paper across the room, trying to score it into garbage cans. one of the pieces hit this guy in my class, who thought it would be funny to try and trip me after school. not because he didn't like me- it felt like he was trying to prove to me, and everyone else, how "un-cool" i was. after the kid tried to trip me i lost it, and just started wailing on him, kicking him and hitting him with my backpack. one of the teachers saw us and pulled us inside.

so me and the guy sat in the "first aid" room -ironically. he was calm when he told his side of the story, i was a nervous wreck, trying not to break down. i was told i was going to be suspended again- and all i could do was accept it.

i had to ride the school bus that day- to further add insult to what had happened. i was walking home, just terrifyed and weak, and this guy from my class pushed me down- and i didn't stand up. i just lay on the ground crying. i didn't care anymore. i cried for about ten minutes before dragging my sorry ass home. my brother was trying to comfort me- but i didn't want his comfort. i wanted to cry, and feel like i was allowed to- because that was better than feeling like i was not allowed to feel sorry... or something like that.

i was suspended five times that year. my dad wasn't as angry everytime. i just felt more and more like a loser everytime. i couldn't win.

theres one more story. my class was set to take a week long sailing trip, to celebrate graduation. one of my suspensions was handed to me three days before the trip- for some stupid reason i can't remember. i was told that i wasn't allowed to go. i didn't argue. i accepted it. i just went home and hid under a couch, trying to hide from myself.

i thought that i didn't deserve the trip. i thought i was an idiot, a faggot, and a loner, and because of that i was destined to make screwed up mistakes, and have to live with them. i still don't think i deserve it. i don't think i deserve anything good in my life. on the other hand, i didn't deserve the rejection either. there was a lot of guilt that year.

anyway. thats a chapter of my life. thats me. i've come a long way since then, and i still have a long way to go. thats one sad memory realized- now i can move on to others. one thing i've realized is that i can't fix myself. i have to depend on Christ. i have to reflect on the promise that Christ will never "leave" me or "forsake" me. thats a challenge i'm facing today. (this journal entry is way too long).


Honesty is a hard attribute to find
When we all want to seem like we've got it all figured out
I may be the first to say that I don't have a clue
I don't have all the answers
And God I pretend like I do

-lifehouse, trying.

couldn't stop crying

so you drank you're last bottle of beer,
on the staircase outside you're door,
it doesen't taste as good as it did last week...
you wish, you wish tommorow would come,
something you just can't keep waiting.
waiting is lonely, you say to yourself.
it's not somthing i feel like tonight.

"i put on my best clothes,
hoping you'd notice.
put on my best face and scruffed up my hair,
i'm the same as always.
not so sure where i stand today".

so you wrote you're last exam,
it wasn't all that good,
home was only half a comfort,
thought the bottle would meet halfway.
it didn't last long enough.

so you stayed outside, facing the day,
you couldn't stop crying- or you just couldn't start.
or you were somewhere in between.
you listened to slow music, picking up the phone,
never dialing.
why do you long for that voice on the other end, its not worth it.
you still don't know how to love.

so you drank coffee instead

so you drank you're mandatory cup of coffee,
it still wasn't enough.
it's not working anymore,
those same old things we try,
we try...

so you stared at the sky for half an hour,
wondering what to think.
whether to study, whether to walk,
to choose blue skies tinged with yellow,
or black coffe with brown. you cry
we try.

so you took that last walk from home,
to you're dorm room so you could study,
instead you sleep and pray for rest,
trying to fix you're mind.
and you drank coffee instead
it wasn't enough, still you try,
you try.

i always drink coffee when i want to write. it's just something i do. theres just something about a well made (french pressed) cup of coffee that gets me thinkin'. even though i have an exam that i barely studyed for in an hour, and a million things to stuff into two days before i run to the island for two weeks.

so i say, just let it slide. do what i can with what little time i have, and go. i don't have time to stuff information into my head, so i say why try and bring rest to my head so what little information i have from course material doesen't just get boogged down by useless stress and worry, or whatever.

likewise, if i could accomplish everything in tow days i would be a hero. if i could devote hours of time to people i love (love, not used in a loose sense here), and hours on my house, and catching up on reading, writing, doctors appointments, and personal meanderings- it's just too much. i have to let some of it go- leave some things for later, choosing priorities.

but, i don't know where to begin. thats always the struggle with looking at a pile of options, wondering where to start unpacking the mess. it always starts with despair. which priorites are more important? hard to say, harder to think.

it's like that for a student. from what i've learned so far, from weeks of stress and anxiety, it's that trying to sort things out in my head, with my thoughts, is never a good option. getting things into perspective, on paper in an organized fasion seems like a better option. then again, it's too late. i have to wait until i get home from holidays, and school starts up again to start trying new plans to avoid anxiety.

then again, i don't feel like waiting. i just want to get things done. sigh. i'm getting sick of how i take care of things. nothing seems to work the way i would expect, or predict, it to. life can just be unpredictable- then we realize our best laid plans can't protect us from the unexpected.

just let it go. i need to be reminded every so often. why carry our burdens when we can give them away? bleh. i just don't know.

if shame had a face

If shame had a face I think it would kind of look like mine
If it had a home would it be my eyes
Would you believe me if I said I'm tired of this

'cause i tried to climb your steps
I tried to chase you down
I tried to see how low I can get down to the ground
I tried to earn my way
I tried to tame this mind
You better believe that I tried to beat this

So when will this end
It goes on and on
Over and over and over again
Keep spinning around I know that it won't stop
Till I step down from this for good

-lifehouse

i gave my heart to all the wrong sources,
to cheap romance and empty hands,
gave my best words and worst intentions,
never saving anything for grace.

i left some parts and pieces of myself,
on the ground, and the dirt, and the shallow places.
i ran from home so i could find you,
got lost, somewhere along the way.

you never told me home is where you are,
i would have never left for a second,
but i never would have found you if i didn't leave you're side,
something you wanted me to find.

-adam