Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Diary Entries from a Video Game Bad Guy Hiding Behind a Rock

Day 1:

I think therefore I am. At least I think I think am. Oh man. I'm confused.

Who am I? I want to say this out loud, but for some reason I feel as though the only speech I'm capable of formulating are 2-3 generic taunts. I also feel like saying "Grenade!" a lot.

I open my mouth..."There's an enemy over here!"

That's good, at least I can talk, though that wasn't what I meant to say, because there are no enemies over here...and I'm not even sure what an enemy would look like. And why do I have a thick German accent?

I must be German, yet I have no recollection of ever having been to Germany. Come to think of it, I'm not sure it's important to figure out who I am as much as it's important to figure out where I am. Am I in Germany?

Guess I'll just stand here for an indeterminate amount of time and ponder that while I wait for a prompt from the outside world.

Day 4:

I've been standing behind this rock for the last four days. I am not sure why I'm here, but I'm also unsure of whether I should try to go elsewhere. It seems as though there might be something going on in my vicinity, but I do not possess hearing or any kind of awareness of my surrounding. Sometimes I think something is going on over there, so I pace over there, but I don't really pay attention to the environment, and fairly quickly get bored and return to my place behind this rock.

I'm fairly certain I have the sense of sight. My ability to interpret what I see is a different matter.

I see what appears to be some sort of soldier of fortune off in the distance. Despite the fact that this other person is in my direct sight-line, I choose to do nothing. I do not change my ritualistic pacing back and forth. I simply continue guarding the space behind this rock. This is my life.

In hopes of improving my current situation, I've made a complete list of my personal inventory:

  • Battle rifle
  • Unlimited ammo for Battle rifle
  • Cammo cargo pants
  • Cammo bandana
  • Non-descript brown boots
The unlimited ammo is a bit of a corker. No matter how many times I shoot my rifle (and believe you me, I shoot my rifle a lot), it never seems to run out of ammo. It's truly quite remarkable and I would have to think somebody has made a fortune off of this invention. Maybe the same technology being used to supply me with never-ending ammo can be used to solve world hunger or drought?

 On that note, I have no food, and no water. But I do not hunger or thirst.

Day 17:

I have been pacing back and forth behind this rock for a long time, but the grass under my feet shows no wear. I must be especially fleet of foot, for there be no tracks from the incessant walking I've done.

Day 20:

What is the purpose of man?

For me, the answer is quite simple. I believe that if I were to see another soul, I would begin unloading my battle rifle in their direction (often with very poor aim). This is my purpose. It neither pleases or displeases me.

Day 33:

Just me. A grown man. Holding a rifle. Behind this rock.

Thursday, November 20, 2014


Just having some lunch, and thought I'd get around to updating the blog.

Good news: I started new medication over the summer to treat the depression, and it's been working! For those not in the know, I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder, and after countless treatments, trials, and tribulations, it seems that things are finally on the up and up.

The last time I had a major depressive episode was prior to having starting this new medication. That means I've had almost 5 months without any signs of depression whatsoever. It's truly incredible. It may sound as though I'm bouncing off the walls, but the reality is that I simply feel normal. Not too high, not too low. I have more energy than I did before, and have been able to truly enjoy things in my life for the first time in probably 15 or 16 years.

Bad news: I'm turning 26. The job market is terrible, and my two years of fighting depression led to a big gap in my employment record. Jobs are scarce, and the competition is so fierce now that people are fighting tooth and nail for a chance to work for free... it's insane, but it's the world we live in. I want to go back to school, and I'm currently awaiting a response from a university as to whether or not I possess all necessary prerequisites. Who knew that a 4 year honours BA would be so worthless...

The plan is to get the necessary prerequisites during the next summer, then start a three year program in the medical field starting in September. That's the hope, though again, getting into school is proving to be no cakewalk, with limited spaces and high number of applicants. Cross your fingers for me, I could use some good luck after what I've been through.

More bad news: Have I lost my creative streak? I used to love doing radio, I used to dream of, and then shoot short films. At one point I even enjoyed writing. I wonder if the older I get, the more I lose of that kid creativity I used to rely on. Maybe my hobbies have just changed?

As soon as I started to feel better, I decided to put all of my worries and concerns about the future aside. It was the middle of summer, and I wanted to enjoy life for once. I felt like I deserved a break... so I spent my entire summer and fall up at our property in Muskoka. Our cottage is still several years away from being completed (my dad estimates that it will be another 7 or so until it's truly finished). No matter! It's still a great place to go for a guy like me. We finally got electricity, and with that, were able to install a dry toilet (Separett is the way to go...might write a blog on outhouses shortly). That meant no more shitting in the woods. Thanks to the electricity, we were able to bring up a fridge, and with that my next 4 months were set. I'd spend 5-6 days a week in the country, and come back to the city on weekends to see friends, do some laundry, and pick up supplies. I built a kickass outhouse, see future blog, an amazing extension for our dock (complete with fully functioning pool slide), and started construction on my own cabin. I'm too lazy to put up individual pictures, so simply head over here to see the entire album:

My cabin still isn't done. I wasn't able to run power over to it before the ground froze, and it was simply too cold to keep working, so my last day up there was on October 22nd, I think?

There's still lots to do, but I look forward to one day having a quiet place of my own to rest and relax. So maybe that's where the creativity in me went? I build all these structures from scratch, with only the ideas in my head, and some very rough plans. It's been great to see it all come together, and more than anything, I can't wait to see it when it's all done. Spending a week at a time without seeing another human being was actually a tremendous luxury. No arguments, no anger, no bad news, just nature, swimming, and swinging a hammer.

Aside from that, I started dating a new girl. She's incredibly bright and hard working, we seem to get along real well, and it's the easiest relationship I've ever had, as far as I'm concerned. I still live at home, which is okay but not great.

I haven't written in forever, but if everything pans out with these school applications, I hope to devote my free time in winter to writing and completing a novel.

This is obviously an abbreviated update, but it covers all the bases to some extent. Oh, I'd like to work a little more on this mini-documentary I started shooting a few years ago (reading transcripts later today....hurrah?) and maybe do a couple more posts on this blog. My cabin is a tiny house, so I'd like to maybe write a bit about that, though I'm not tremendously motivated. Also, I think I have a couple of Midnight Caller episode I never uploaded, and from what I understand, all the old ones were taken down from the server, so I guess I probably ought to correct that issue. I just really don't care to sit in front of computers like I used to, so it's gonna take an awful lot of internal coaxing...

In any case, I hope anyone reading this is doing well, enjoying life, and something something.



Friday, May 16, 2014

Not Being Cool

I haven't had much energy lately to devote to writing or really anything creative lately.

The weeks and months keep melting by, and without any real moments or memories to denote the passage of time, I occasionally find myself doing double-takes in front of my calendar when I realize it's been x number of months since y occured. I'm 25 and a half, and things do look bleaker, by the by.

I've never been cool, and even that, has never made me cool for even one second.

I have a hard time nailing down exactly what it means to be cool, but if you wanted to understand the anti-thesis of cool, ie uncool, you could look it up in a dictionary, and you would not see a picture of me, because that would be remotely cool - and cool I am not.

I know a lot of cool people, I've been with a lot of cool people, and not even one ounce of cool rubbed off on me, not even by accident, or even for a second.

I see a lot of cool people, and try to mimic them at times, but I feel painfully uncool doing so, and thereby revert to my old uncool habits.

Eventually, all this negative self-talk leads me to realize that I actually am cool. And that for the most part, I like me, and mostly like the things I stand for, and that I think that's pretty cool, if only slightly under-appreciated.

So the problem isn't so much that I'm not cool (I just built two bat houses - I'm plenty cool!) it's just that everyone seems so much cooler.

Ultimately this isn't a post about being cool/uncool. It's about depression. These feelings aren't everything that depression is, or does, but it's part of it. The skewed perspective, the hopeless sense of alienation, the desperate desire to connect to society and others, and the perpetual loneliness of not being able to.

Throughout my life, I've met one or two people who had the type of depression that I could recognize as my own. One was an Irishman from the east coast, in his mid-40s, but otherwise, just like me. You might think that finding someone akin to you would make you feel less alone, but that's the debilitating thing about depression. You never feel not alone. Not even amongst your own. It seems to defy logic, but it's the experience I've had. No matter where or who I've been with, I've always felt disconnected and alone. It's a terrible, terrible feeling to carry forth in life. But it's one that I live with daily.

At this point I've sorta lost track of all the different meds I've tried over the last couple years. I've stayed at in-patient mood disorder facilities for weeks on end. I've tried experimental procedures through mental health clinics. It'd be an understatement to say that I do not feel well. At the same time, it's barely worth mentioning that it's nothing new.

I hate to cause alarm in the people around me about the state of my health. It's something I have not discussed with anyone, outside of my psychiatrist, in several months. Even among my friends who suffer from a similar condition, I try to veer the conversation away from this affliction.

But tonight I felt I needed to get it out somehow, even if it was just into the void that is the internet:

I do not like to live like this, and do not wish to continue doing so. With that being said, I don't seem to really have any choice in the matter. I will continue living like this until things get better or until things worse.

Sunday, March 30, 2014

Embracing Failure (Mini-Doc) - with Mr. Let's Paint!

A couple summers ago I had the pleasure of sitting down with painter John Kilduff, host of the always entertaining Let's Paint TV, at his home in Van Nuys. The music was provided by Rory Landry of Mouth.

The footage sat on my hard drive for more than 18 months after returning from Los Angeles. I remember not having the best interview with John. I think general fatigue or jetlag had something to do with it.

In any case, I spent the last week sifting and transcribing the footage, and was fortunate to uncover 5-6 anecdotes I thought would be worth exploring in a short format documentary.

Ultimately I feel that aesthetically speaking, I didn't do him justice. I had a certain vision for how things would turn out, but in my pre-DSLR days, I was somewhat limited by what I could pull off visually. I hope people still find it interesting.

I've posted links below to a couple pieces done by a Vancouver Film School graduate on John Kilduff, which are far more pleasing to the eye:

Quiettime, a member of reddit, kindly added the short to reddit's documentary section. I don't know how reddit works, but if you do, feel free to chime in here:


Saturday, February 22, 2014

Halfway to Nowhere

On Friday night, I was headed over to my buddy's house to watch the Raptors game, and planning to swing by the burger joint to pick up something to eat beforehand.

The spot is on the same street as an old friend of mine who I haven't seen in over half a decade. I probably roll through there once every month or so since moving back to Toronto. Every time I turn onto his street, I half-hope he'll be outside his house (for reasons unknown) so that we can catch up.

Oddly enough, last night I wasn't hoping he'd be there. I suppose I wasn't in a very talkative mood.

Low and behold, he was out there shoveling his driveway. We spoke for about ten minutes, laughing and joking like we used to, but I couldn't help but noting to him that we were having an 'old man' conversation. I'm only 25 (or already 25, depending what side of the bed you got up on).

The last time we spoke may have been 7 or 8 years ago. At the time I was working a bunch of crummy jobs, about to head off to college, and saving up money to move out with my girlfriend. It's amazing how the time's turn.

I remember, at the time, he told me something along the lines of "wanting to live with one girl is stupid, why would you tie yourself down like that?" Flash forward to present day, and he's telling me that him and his fiancee are saving up money so that they can move out of their folks' home and marry within four months. His older brother was expecting his second child (I didn't even know he'd a first!).

Chronologically, my buddy's evolution probably fits a more conventional narrative. Party hard as fuck through high school and college, find a girl, find steady work, and by your mid-to-late twenties, settle down.

But I was on a weird fast track through all that shit when I was pretty young I guess. By 18 I was already living with my better-half (upon reflection, maybe 'other-half' is more apt), halfway to getting married, and though uncertain about the future, somewhat confident that things would pan out.

Probably at a time while I should have been in residence exposing myself to as many different kinds of people as possible (I'm talking about my genitalia) (okay, I'm not talking about my genitalia), I was slumming it in dumpy apartments, living a fairly solitary life. Over the years, the individual parts changed (the pads, the partners, the schools), but the machine that was my life still operated in much the same manner as before.

I'm now over a year removed from what people call 'normal life' and still struggle to figure out how all the moving parts fit together into a cohesive whole. Having depression forces a person to question every part of their existence. You're constantly searching for things that help, looking to get rid of things that don't, trying to make heads or tails of a coin that never stops flipping. To call my everyday life dysfunctional would probably be a compliment. It's all kinds of fucked up.

Nevertheless, the conversation I had last night reminded me how much time has gone by, and how much, or little, people change. My friend is now the polar opposite of what he once was. Meanwhile, I couldn't feel more like I'm still 17 (which is probably a large part of why or how I've ended up where I am).

I looked at some old photographs of myself at age 5, and 12, and 18, and 22. I can't help but feel like whoever that guy was, he probably deserved something a little bit better than this. The funny thing about it is that I think if I had asked myself at age 12 where I would end up, I probably would have guessed right. I've never understood most of what people call life, and have had a tremendously difficult time (despite my desire) to connect to any of it in a meaningful way. I understand as little now as I did then.

My buddy is well on his way to fulfilling the human being's metaphorical prime directive.

I'm the one floating out in space, unsure of which way is up.