Wake up to every sunrise

Living a much simpler life in a much warmer climate. This is what I dream of lately. Going back to 40 hours a week or less. Living the regular person life would be like being semi retired. I've come to this conclusion after seeing how technology is advancing us in every way but destroying us personally. Kids no longer knowing how to entertain themselves. Losing part of what defines them as one grows. Why do we resort so often to using the television, ipad, iphone, computer, video games to raise our children. Instead of showing concern we just pump them full of chemicals to counteract apparent learning disabilities. Removing natural selection because we are no longer raising things naturally. '

One more year of being north of where I want to be.
One more year of working hours upon hours.
After this I want to work half the year.
Go somewhere warm and relax.
Be debt free and enjoy the world.


Stay on track, Stay focused, Stay positive...

As the wind shifts...

I miss the silence that I once felt. There was a destination that made me concerned of less people and more place. I enjoyed the air, the present. I enjoyed. Now it's back to that feeling...

I hope to capture the wind that creates beauty in the waves

As life continues to pass I begin to cherish parts of this world more and more. What could be consider to some unimportant I try to look at in a different light. Not dwelling on the past or looking to the future, but being present. The fleeting eye contact with a stranger, the sincere smile from a friend. How spending an hour with someone can have such an impact on your day. Seeing the raw beauty when you actually are able to hold eye contact and not just blush and look away. To actually enjoy the depths of the sea of blue/green/brown or whatever color one sees their eyes. To look past the screen that captivates so many and actually see the the sky for what it is. Listening to waves crash and feeling the wind against my skin. Embracing the chill of the ocean as it tackles skin and pushes through. To feel weak in the seas and still try to embrace the ocean. Watching sunsets and praying the sunrise the next day will be just as beautiful. Even if you can't see the light through the fog there will always be light through the fog. There will always be another sunset. Temperatures will rise and thermostats will fall. Regardless of how you feel I wish this world would be our constant. I wish that the ocean will always have life and that we move on to greener pastures. To not destroy but embrace this planet. We are becoming parasites in a world where mutual-ism is the only answer.

...But home is nowhere

Beginning to strive forward. Setting and achieving goals and finding new passions. The intricacies of life. Of living. What purpose do we have but to explore this world we are slowly condemning. How long to we have left to explore? Why do we keep using archaic fuels to function when it is completely possible to move forward. Is it greed or the idea that we can just fix what we are causing? That maybe earth itself will somehow restore homeostasis once it gets to a tipping point. I have moved beyond Oilfield work presently, after many depressing days in the northern world and many disappointing interactions with a less than satisfactory company, I have moved forward. Granted they had the last straw by "laying me off" after I gave my two weeks notice and not "Wanting my fucking respect". I had lost much faith in this human race. But upon moving to Nanaimo I have met many pleasant people. Visited places were the quality of trust and respect and any redeeming human quality has been rediscovered. Maybe it's the ocean, the mountains, the beauty of everything that is this world makes a person just overall less shitty. Regardless life is good and I leave whoever reads this with one of my favorite poems from the AFI track on their album "Sing the Sorrow". Its the final song "...But home is nowhere". Enjoy we held hands on the last night on earth. our mouths filled with dust, we kissed in the fields and under trees, screaming like dogs, bleeding dark into the leaves. it was empty on the edge of town but we knew everyone floated along the bottom of the river. so we walked through the waste where the road curved into the sea and the shattered seasons lay, and the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease. In our cancer of passion you said, 'Death is a midnight runner.' the sky had come crashing down like the news of an intimate suicide. we picked up the shards and formed them into shapes of stars that wore like an antique wedding dress. the echos of the past broke the hearts of the unborn as the ferris wheel silently slowed to a stop. the few insects skittered away in hopes of a better past time. I kissed you at the apex of the maelstrom and asked If you would accompany me in a quick fall, but you made realize that my ticket wasn't good for two. I rode alone. you said 'The cinders are falling like snow.' there is Poetry in despair, and we sang with unrivaled beauty, bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence. of blue and grey. strange, we ran down desperate streets and carved our names in the flesh of the city. the sun has stagnated somewhere beyond the rim of the horizon and the darkness is a mystery of curves and lines. still, we lay under the emptiness and drifted slowly outward, and somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation scratched into the earth like a message.

Never doesn't even begin to describe my misunderstanding

Occasionally with moments of reflection I am still at a loss. This path gives time for lots of thinking.

What will become of the truth when we keep it in

That moment when you let go, when you release what has happened. You realize the past is the past and it is dead. It's freeing look back and use what you need to and move on. That moment when you understand that it was never meant to work. Never meant to be. No need to dwell and wonder. Push forward and remember who you are. Always hold onto that, evolve and proceed and keep your core, your values, your you. This is me, and this is me moving forward.

Once upon a time sleep welcomed me

I knew at that moment that I sincerely missed time with you. In the small mountain town listening to an up and coming indie band I wished for nothing more than to be sharing a winter ale with you. The crisp mountain air, a slight taste of wood burning stoves. An open sky with every star begging for something more. In my mind... You understood. Yet I could not help but insist the moon or the stars could fill this void, to replace my love with lunar amity. The waking seconds henceforth could not explain why I continue to think about it. Clouds below the sky, islands in the superior lakes, immortal and infinite and always stuck on you. I once was open, I once loved, I once lost, and now I am... As if writing would be the cure to vanquish these thoughts, I continue to digress, shamelessly releasing feelings I'm much too late on expressing. Alas they are felt and this paper shall shed no tears.