Verbatim 03.08.2016

There's this saying I've had in my head for a while, "Looking at two dice and wondering if they rolled another way." The rest is going to be kind of emo, or may contain heart-on-my-wrist-itis.  Whatever it is a night out seeing wonderful people has coaxed me into this, love is something I hold dear, with tremendous people, but believe it or not, tremendous is a fine line to walk on. 

I feel emotionally I'm a coward. I don't despise it but I don't like how often I look back at if something had gone another way. What if I went to another university [no clue], what if I had become an RA [maybe I wouldn't have traveled abroad], what if I had proposed to someone [there'd be a bullet lodged in my skull if that had happened]? 

As you get older you become aware of this invented math clock that a buddy, Papa Pyles, introduced me to; add eighteen to your age. Some people  don't like to think of it but at 32, if you have a kid you'll be 50 when they graduate. That scares me a lot. When do I transition from this do-it-all dad to an old man? I haven't a clue, but you see many walks of life. 

Looking at my clock I'd have less than 6 years left to have my own child. THAT SCARES TEN THOUSANDS FUCKS OUT OF ME. Not because I'm getting old but the world is getting shittier. Having been to India, I don't want that in a country I grew up in turns into a shit hole. I've read countless books and the anthropology book I read 6/10 of  hit home. I doubt it was even related to anthropology but you can find meaning in a sonnet from 400 years ago you can interpret whatever you want. I had this ideal that I'd be the giver of the great grandfather at one point in my life because I was thinking about other people, not me. I wasn't ready for a kid, or even a plant. 

Back to the dice though: there were countless times I simply looked another way, it might not have even been an idea, GOT  and The Stand run things.It's just how far you and much you want to deal with. 

Then I just heard this accent that took the pressure and the edge off of Europe and South America voiced an interest. I think, if I went to jail I'd cut ties as fast as I could. You never know when you need a quick out. 

He fled to the point a dockboy I didn't really care, I was chasing one girl, then pinned ideas in the amateur place way if he didn't bring in shitty porn  

--

Well I don't know what happened, but I woke up in my bed with a half glass of bourbon and melted ice next to my computer. Still drunk, I like what I wrote mostly because it doesn't give away too much. Obviously some it doesn't make sense but you're just going to have to deal. 

Looking Out

                The lights went out without a sound. The only noise in the house was the cuckoo clock. Sibyl couldn’t find the fuse board with the lights on in the dank basement.

                “Henry,” she called in the darkness, “What is going on?”

                The only reply was the ticking clock.

                Henry was dead. He died several years before, and was alive the last time the power went out. Sibyl put her hand out to find the bookstand and put her novella on it. She slipped her legs out from under the duvet and walked into the hallway. She took ten steps and turned into the kitchen as she had done every day the past sixty years. All while calling for her late husband.  She grabbed at the wall feeling for the phone cord. Sliding her hands up the spiralled plastic she held the phone up to her ear and heard the dial tone. She hit the first number on the speed dial.

                The phone rang several times before someone picked up.

                “Hello?” the man said half asleep.

                “Donald is that you?”

                “No ma’am, I think you have the wrong number.”

                “Check again, his name is Donald Mair, he’s my son.”

                “Oh, ma’am, we bought this house from the Mair’s four months ago. I’m sorry.”

                “Oh my goodness, I feel so silly. Sorry to trouble you at this hour.

                “It’s only 10pm ma’am, it’s all right, have a goodnight.”

                “You too, sorry, again.”

                Sibyl, hung up the phone. She walked into the living room and tried to remember what drawer the matches were in. Her slippers made no noise walking along the carpeted floor as she picked through the cluttered drawers with her dainty hands. She managed to find a flickering flashlight, then the matches. She lit the candles on the coffee table, the tea lights on the dining room cabinet, and one on the windowsill by the front door. The street looked empty. The old trees were swaying back and forth in the wind. There was a tint of blue amidst the storm clouds.

                Jack’s watch flashed 9:30pm. Aaron slammed down his controller in frustration, rattling the empty bottles on the table as he watched Reptile mutilate Scorpion.

                “Fuck this game,” Aaron said.

                “Don’t be a sore loser Aaron, you won the last four.”

                “Whatever Jack, do you have any dope?”

                “No man, parents cut me off, I’ve been mooching off Wendy for a month now.”

                “That’s gotta be sweet,” Aaron said getting up.

                “I know you asked, so you’re tapped too, I’m craving some now, since you brought it up.”

                Aaron looked into the fridge for another beer. “Yeah but I think I have a plan. My brother mows this old ladies lawn. She always gives him a fifty for an hour and half of mowing.”

                “So?”

                “I’ve picked him up a couple times. She’s completely checked out, thinks I’m her son or something. Her house is small, but she’s always decked out in new clothes. Jayson says her husband was a big name engineer or something.”

                “Cool man, why are we talking about this?”

                “We’ll just dip in find her purse and dip out. No one else lives there.” Aaron looked to Jack for some sort of okay. “I’ll drive,” Aaron offered.

                Sibyl was in the basement, dusting what used to be loved: albums, Hot Wheels, and doll houses, but children—and their children—grow up. Humming a song from her adolescence she couldn’t hear the bang overhead. The memories, of her children playing peacefully. Helen in that doll house for hours and Donald racing his cars down the bannister. It was a joy to see her grandchildren play the same way.

--            

                “Lots of birthdays, I guess,” Aaron muttered. Jack punched and shushed him. They cut into the backyard of Sibyl’s neighbor. The gate was half open and Aaron shut it behind him. Jack hopped the fence landing in a prized rosebush. The backyard was immaculate. The tulips were all blooming, the roses starting to bud, the cacti in the rock garden had hues of pink and yellow and, in the middle of the yard, a perfectly spherical orange tree.

                “Whoa,” Aaron blurted, “It’s like a skittle garden. Where’s the back door man?”

                Martell Joseph finished watching television. He yawned and stood up to put his daughters to bed. Until he heard his gate slam shut. He could hear Kristy and Lisa fighting upstairs. He walked out the backdoor.  He could hear the leaves rustling on the other side of the fence. But there was no breeze. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two kids hopping into Mrs. Mair’s window.

                Back inside, Lisa was crying. Martell walked back inside and phoned the police.

07.30-312014 Busan --> Hong Kong

The way to HK took a lot longer than I expected, and there were some odd sights to see.

I went from school straight with my gym bag. Julie thought I was going to Okpo again. When I got to the train station in the Bu the line-up was back to the entrance I was worried I'd miss my train to the airport. That didn't happen. I made it on but didn't have lunch. Obviously I doubled up my dinner. While on the train I bought a Snickers bar to tide my stomach over. Then as I felt the caramel and warm chocolate stick to my teeth, I realized I didn't grab my travel toothbrush from school. There was a tooth-brushing travel pack in Incheon that's 6 pieces including the case. I haven't opened it but I wouldn't be surprised if it came with a Dental Cert too. My flight is delayed 1.5 hours but it hasn't changed on the board. Go figure, flying Ethiopian Air in Korea.

Now I'm sitting on the outside of a circle of African men all super suave, the only strange thing is one guy has a watermelon in a GS25 bag. When they announced the delay he tried to cut it up with a plastic knife. His brethren nipped the idea pretty quickly. This is one of the times I'm sweating travelling by myself. Most services outside Mom and Pop shops are terrible; hospitals and airports are the best of the worst. I really don't want to get stuck here. Plus, I doubt I'll be able to get a phone rental in Hong Kong or take public transit to my hostel which takes a chunk out of my wallet.

The watermelon has been cracked and the boarding time is at 00:30. That's a 3.5 hour delay. Eff everything and now all the stores are closed, my caffeine levels are low. I'm banking on a free something from these tardy pilots. Ideally a free drink or delicious meal/snack. Hopefully they'll still be up at UK Hostel or I'll scream. 6-hours-in-an-airport scream!

11:45
So this group of Africans are heading back to Nigeria through Hong Kong. One guy seemed pretty cool and started talking to me and we exchanged emails, you never know when a Nigerian can come in handy, I guess. I put two mozza-sticks into a burger for third dinner/ midnight snack. I felt drained but I don't plan on sleeping until I get into a bed. I'm just sick of this airport. I need a vacation from this vacation, and it hasn't even started. And I jammed a Q-tip a little too far in on Tuesday which might be a problem [it wasn't, obviously, I blame it on being stir-crazy]. They're filling up the plane with these metal boxes. I can't imagine what's inside them. Another mystery in riding Ethiopian Air.

The flight was good. I talked with my neighbor who's really chill. He was from Incheon (12 minutes from the airport) I slept most of the way though because the personal TV didn't work. We got a meal for free, B-Grade comfort food. When I got off the plane the airport was deserted. The bus to town only took exact change so I bought a beer at the nearest 7/11. I was on a bus for an hour before my stop. The dude at the window had dropped the blinds and was definitely sleeping.

My bed is shit [you get what you pay for]. I was moved out the next day to a room that had an extra mattress in it and a tiny TV. I had a samosa brunch, no lunch (I napped instead) Rob'll be coming down soon. I need to eat and figure out if they have an extra room here. I walked in a labyrinth today remembering my late aunt, saw some flamingos and other birds in Kowloon Park.

But the service at this hostel is a sack of shit. They're all lazy, or dumb. The water cooler isn't refrigerated either. Now I'm watching the news and it's even more depressing with Gaza's problems and the Detroit water problem.  This world needs to step up. It doesn't feel like I'm in a country I haven't been in before: beggars, shoreline, green space, too many people, Western stores. I won't come here again. I'll still make the most of it. Maybe an Australia-Tasmania trip is in the cards.

Rob isn't coming tonight. I'm really bummed but he's got a lot more responsibility than me. At the same time I came here mostly to see him, so this trip just became a lot worse. Now I don't think I'll go out drinking at all. Actually that's a good thing, but a disappointing good thing. I'm just curious how many more good things there'll be here. I'm too content being at home. This should be the last long trip I take. I need someone like Danielle to pull me outdoors or just someone who wouldn't be content watching a show about BMX.  

September 1st 2012

The Next Day

Not many people get to say they went to a retirement party their first week on the job, but I did. She had taught for forty years. She didn't even look fifty. I don't know why, but the principal treated me like an ambassador of Canada and proposed I do a short greeting to all the guests. I was soooo nervous despite the fact that no one would probably understand me apart from the English Teachers at my school. And then of course I went back to sit with the VP and principal at the main table. Big time fuck up. Thankfully they still like me, and one man was kind enough to find me a ride home. So then I went out with less than 30 000 Won and got pretty hammered. But this night seemed very much in my hand. Running into Shannon and Aaron, then John and Gill, the people we were waiting for. After everyone met up I went to get a Hot6 and when I came out out everyone was gone. Luckily after finding an alley to pee in I went to that same intersection and found two people from my Orientation group. So we kept partying and I made some googly eyes at my apple and I hope she gave some back. Until I ran out of money. But then I went home and talked to Mom and Kev.

Loads and loads of fun, what will tonight hold?

Marginal note:
Saturday you made out with Sara in the ocean and didn't take your cellphone out of your pocket!

 

June 27 2012

Note:

I'm a firm believer the art makes art. The first time it really hit me was when I was reading a book Death of a Transvestite or something like that. Anyways there was this riot in the book and all of a sudden I put the book down and I just wrote. The syntax was really wishy-washy, from what I remember but I remember I put some chords to it and it made sense. Unfortunately that book is MIA but I when catharsis strikes I write and it helps me reflect on what I've just witnessed. This one is from the movie Crazy Stupid Love. I blushed reading the last line.

Crazy Stupid Love

Love, I bet is like a plane ride. You wait in the beginning for a while to take off and of course you have to adjust to the altitude and equalize yourself. And while you're up there you can see everything and nothing. The only clear thing is the person next to you who's there for the whole ride, never leaving your side. Sleeping on your shoulder. Dreaming the plane never lands, though it always does. They wouldn't mind two quiet people resting in their seats, one fitting into the other's shoulder. Even if they're peering with one eye open. Maybe I'll buy a private jet.

I only want to experience this feeling when the time comes and if I'm a little tipsy I'll share the story if it merits telling.

This moment needs to be mesmerizing, provocative, and cathartic. No matter how long it lasts so long as I enjoy myself. Not like my first hook-up. It was fun but odd, plain old workout. But I kept coming back, and that made me better because I know what I want. A big-eyed, robust hair, charming, talkative, and pretty even teeth. An Emma Stone if you will, so let's try to be a Goslinger.