Emo night, no cover.

Sometimes I get hit by a wave of sadness so hard and fast that it feels like a sucker punch to the gut. Taking the wind right out of me and leaving me disoriented and in pain.

There’s so many people I’ve loved over the years, and now I’m sitting here in my room at 2:44 on a Friday morning wondering how so many friendships just faded or went on hiatus.
How so many people can fail each other. How much someone (me) can miss because shit went sour and then went even worse.
I’ve made mention to leaving, to change, to running away.
I was so fucking broken when I left that I didn’t know what else to do. I spent three years drunk as fuck and shit got bad. Sometimes it was better but worse than before. Other times it was just worse.

I came out of those years yet again wondering what the fuck happened. Again destroyed even further with hurt, pain, lies, abuse.
I came out of those years with a fucking drinking problem and a concussion.
Some more scars and chips to put of the list of shit I’ll never, ever fucking let happen again.

What ever friendships I had saved from before those years really struggled to survive them. I lost more friends because I was broken and becoming more broken. I was hurt and becoming more hurt. I was losing myself and for all I fucking cared I was about to drowned in the bottom of a 20 pack of Caribou green and set my self on fire with a pack of Canadian Classics. Preferably every night. Or die trying. Hopefully.

And now I’m sober. I’m trying to give up smoking.

I’m starting to see folks around that I haven’t seen in years. It looks like a lot of people are moving out this way. People I used to be closer to and miss dearly. I’m terrified to open back up again, I’m not sure if anything has actually changed. Some of them still hold parts of me. Some of them I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive. Most of them probably don’t give a fuck about me anyway.

I miss so many people so fucking much, but maybe it’s better off like this?
Maybe some of the bridges need to stay burnt.

Tonight is a night of sadness and loneliness.
Of remembering the ones that are lost to me, but not gone.
Tonight is for missing you and wishing I could erase the hurt.
Wishing you would come and hold my hand like you used to.

Tonight is for mourning parts of myself that are better dead.
For believing in my ability to find strength even in my darkest times.
Tonight is for honouring the feelings I have and respecting that I can miss people who hurt me deeply in the past.
It doesn’t make me a contradiction to have feelings, It makes me human.


Things change and then they change again. 

51 Days sober.


Another ferry ride into the big city and I got lost in my own thoughts while sitting in a corner by where the pay phones used to live. Why does society have to take beautiful things and suck them back into its vast expanse with it’s terrifying undertow of consumer cycles. I own a cell phone, I aided in the down fall of the payphone empire.

Some things seem to move so slowly. Time is irrelevant in a world where my existence is ruled by my perception, perspective and feelings.

I spent my last 20 days digging deeply inside myself in such a gentle and honest way. Holding hands, holding space. Holding time at bay and waiting for the inevitable separation of two universes.

And everything gentle hurts sometimes. Honesty isn’t soft with us. Nothing in life is easy. I want to live hard, love hard and fight like hell.

So I squat on the floor of the alf house kitchen smoking and typing. I’m wondering what number this cigarette is on my count down to quitting. I wonder how close I am to finding clarity in the struggle of reaching my goal of finding the best of both worlds. I wonder if I’ll choose to call the run down poster-painted walls of this house my home? Will I buy a van? When can I learn to sail? Do I want to try and let my feelings fall where they may? Should I let the last month sink it’s teeth and nails deep into me. It’s words, ideas and dreams. It’s softness and honesty and harsh but beautiful challange.

Do I tempt myself to pack my bags and go out into the world and challange myself again?

Cam said to me today “Why not? What could possibly go wrong? Except everything?”

But isn’t that part of the charm of the challange in this fight we’re all struggling through?

Isn’t terror and fear and uncertainty part of the thrill?

How can I overcome my desire to hide from these things but still feel fearless and strong and fight like fucking hell to love and feel alive.

I know I’m growing because it’s hard and I know I’m changing because there’s no other way.


Spring 2k16

That thing where an idea gets in your head and you can’t shake it or reason with it or make it go away.

Why are my friends so amazing? Why can’t we all live in the same town? Why does Vancouver have to be so chill right now? What am I doing?

Make obscure references in the kitchen at night,

Start a band (name list),



Bike rides,

Bad jokes.