Messie, Our Glass Castle

Should we try to understand what happened?

They say you can’t change the past, but aren’t we changing it all the time, constantly. By re-telling stories. Choosing to remember or forget. Erasing or modifying the blemishes, cracks, faces. It never happened at all. It has always happened, is always happening.

Funny illusions, silly chaos, “a series of repeating images”, you said.

Is there progress? Does there need to be progress? Or just better recognition, better naming, better relationship with time. How better? Why better?

Messie.

Messie attempts in this story we’ve always known and continue to re-read again and again, hoping to find some hidden justification in its existence. And what we make of the triumphs in between the cracks that ultimately bring us to the same place again: why bother.

But perhaps, the little traces of those “triumphs”, the evidence we leave, in the messie paint jobs, the white cabinets already chipped, lopsided plants and wiggly bookshelf, the flickering bamboo light hanging above the dining table, a new groaning microwave - the visible, physical proofs of our story here, perhaps they offer just a tiny consolation as to why, why we bothered. Supposedly living, supposedly loving, still existing to laugh, cry, scream, believe, hope, try.

Because. Actually, we have made memories we will always treasure. Even now, I will remind us. We have done well.

Some moments are brief, some last the length of our always-walk, some a whole evening of safety and freedom because we are in the company of the right people. And now the lights are soft warm orange, now the walls are elegant deep crimson and smiley face yellow and bold avocado green. Because now we almost believe we can take up space. Care and choose for ourselves, even without validation, without praise, without appreciation, rather - the opposite, even while being controlled, belittled, sneered at, squashed down, stomped on and smushed into goo by the boot. How can one person’s glimmering eyes and joy in desiring, imagining, creating be so enraging to another? That they must destroy and undermine everything, ever spark of joy, to drag that beautiful, curious, wondrous, innocent life force into a submissive, cynical helplessness, a tortuous, suffocating void, an unreachable apathy.

So now, do you feel better? To see those you supposedly love as miserable as you. To not be left behind. To have someone feel what you feel, be as powerless as you are, as alone. The illusion of control.

Now, we go back to the beginning. Will you still take the courage to trust others?

So what if it’s make believe. We still bother, bother to find and notice those moments.

April 23, 2023
Airdrie AB 8:08AM

Back.
How we set the tone. Morning, open smile. Invite, sunlight. Big grin, big hug.
”Good morning.”
Letting, receiving. Little gestures that can add up to change everything.

Here is what we offer: company, time.
Patience in communicating.

That’s what we need to keep remembering and practicing. First making space for the stories, for the listening. There’s so much we learned. And we have the privilege to return and try again, be blessed again, feel love and speak love and share love agaain.

It’s okay we mess up sometimes. We resort to old habits, defences. But every little bit we open up, we deserve to be proud of and celebrate.

Allow being blessed.
Gratitude changes the whole perspective.

And I’m going to name those things. Each thank you. Each multitude. Each bite, note, person, tree, breath.
Still living and trusting.
Hello, again.

That was the promise 1 month ago.

April 24, 2023
7:31AM Airdrie

Teamwork.
Being on the same team.
Constantly practicing respect, patience humilityy.

Sabotaging the team.

How does the smallest task get out of control? Everyone has their own way of getting things done. One side can’t let go. Insistence. Fighting over something that could work both ways. A million ways. Why not just say yes? Why disrupt the peace of the morning and set the tone of an entire day that’s burdened, exhausted, bitter.

But I see now. I see how I can hardly imagine. I’ve been here one day instead of 30 years. The conditioning that can come from 30 years. Every little interest she takes and acts on is squashed down. Controlled. Manipulated. Told she can’t this or that. Tiny things that constantly make you give up.

Why bother. Why bother wanting anything to begin with.

But we must nurture the want.
The joy in desiring.
I don’t believe transcendence and peace is detachment from desiring.

Nurture the want.
So that she remembers the aliveness in creating foods, in taking a walk, in buying a shelf for plants, in doing things. Go and do things. Do whatever you want.

But she can’t.

We can’t force people tot care, to want, to heal. We have tot nurture it gradually in other ways.
Show, not tell.

Could we please keep practicing healthier love languages? Respect each other’s individuality. Remember to listen.

“Small acts of kindness
Are radical acts of defiance”

“By testing me, you prove the extend of your grace.”

“Make it a practice. The search of awe.”

“Repetition has a restorative effect.”

“It feels as if I am not learning a language, but the physics of a new universe.”

April 25, 2023
7:35AM Airdrie

The glass castle.

What a beautiful dream. To have that dream. I am so proud and happy for you. For us.
Your eyes glow when you speak of it.
You gaze across that endless field. You first smile, then laugh quietly like you’re embarrassed, like the thought is childish, naive.

“You know, just the other day when we were talking about buying that farmland…”

I smile back. What a blessed vision.

“I thought,” you continue, “I’d like to build a whole kitchen. A huge room just for the kitchen, with glass all around to let the light in - I love places with a lot of light (yet you always hide in the dark closet) - and grow my garden all around the kitchen, right there inside beside me. With grapevines lining the transparent roof. And I could pick fresh vegetables and herbs as I go … just cooking with plants from my own garden. And in the summer, have the roof b able to open and let the sun in … you know?”

I laugh. Joke about the practicalities of building that.

“We’ll just need really strong glass. Like the bulletproof ones to keep out the hail!”

Yep. Bulletproof greenhouse. Garden of Windwood. White. Green rainforest surrounded by a bed of infinite white. And sun. And love.

How sublime. To be able to imagine. Please don’t let them steal that too.

“To know a new word to name an old memory.”

“To remember something in our bodies.”

“The point is the practice.”

“Preparation for prayer is itself a prayer.”

April 27, 2023
7:57AM Airdrie

Knowing why. Being more perceptive, wise, self-aware about why we react, withdraw, become irritated. So we can quickly adapt, shift gears, reset. Restart.

There is tremendous growth there.

Knowing, naming what you need.

Also letting your pre-conceptions be challenged. Always being able to receive feedback and fresh perspectives. Whether you choose to adapt to them or not.

Right now, you need space. Not just give space, but take space away from loved ones who have become your recent routine. Look around and remember and honour the connections, meanings. Hold your silence.

Once vulnerability has been spilt, it’s messy. You’re at the helpless mercy of trying to connect, hold on.

You can choose what you do.
You don’t have to wait for others.
It’s not being cold or distant or disappearing. You have to find a way tot be present in just the sweet spot. Keep learning, testing, a research on yourself. Take notes. Let hypotheses be proven false. Have fun. Experiment. This curiosity named You.

On Saturday I shall sit at the park and DO
nothing
except read
hehe

be “bored'“

April 28, 2023
7:22AM Airdrie

There we go again. That calm, that sweet relaxed good-humoured easygoing rhythm. This me I love being. Making connections inwards, out. Being a joy, being a solid rock, helpful, useful, spark of light, laughter, mediating, facilitating open hearts.

Patiently, compassionately.

People will have their ways.

Let’s not try to change them. Rather, it’s about being highly perceptive and attentive to how much they are willing or ready to hear, to receive.

There we go again.
That remembrance and kinship and attraction and peace with death. Feeling in that very moment, that today would be as good a day as any to return, to the earth.

I have sent my thank yous. I have said have a good day to mom. I have existed in random notes and corners and gifts embedded in so many spirits of the universe. I have lived the moments fully. And it’s an endless adventure. Forever more thank yous to write, infinite music to learn and share. But also, so fulfilled. So satisfied. So content with this little life. How blessed. To walk this earth one more time.

Today I will wear a sundress.

And feel you
and the southern sun

And vibrant green
grass

The wind through my skin
float and drink
the air

and eat

The delight of being

April 29, 2023
7:55AM Airdrie

Black and red. The same.
Birdcalls that transport us to that suspended time. Remember? The degree of sunlight. The intensity of that gold orange. One earpod, golden frame glasses, sneakers. Step by step. Murakami novel. Transportations while still being here. When the world was so patient and simple and silent.

Those days.
Like these days.
Blessed, with their own grievances.

There are always more stories we have yet to remember.

Today, let’s go on a picnic.
Remember to say often, “do you remember?”

How we recreate our memories bond us closer, to remind each other. We have been existing together. We have lived our promises and longings, however barely adequately, in those moments. We have donee well. Cards, sunflower seeds, sitting at a table. Picnics, barbecues, a photo, waving eternally.

April 30, 2023
8:05AM Airdrie

Still Sky.

There’s always something curious in this silly ordinary life. We can’t ever know anything. How liberating is that.
Take every limitation as freedom.

Know what you do not know, cannot know.

Choose within your realm of choices. There’s always something. There’s your belief, your reprocessed memories. That’s how you write your story. So what. So yes, lovely. Bizarre. Strange. Still circling, still static and vibrating. Still treasure hunting.

I love you.
I love you.

And you and you and you.

It’s not about progress, not about better.

Somehow, just noticing. How tiny differences blossom into magnificent warmth and joy.

A game of 4.

May 1, 2023
7:26AM Airdrie

I am fucking Tong.
I make shit happen.

Empowerment. Joy, pride, exuberance in creating, in taking action. Putting ideas into motion. Following through. Working hard work, ‘bothersome’ work, resisted work, mocked, scorned, trampled visions. Making shit happen because I won’t be silenced by this most paralyzing silence. The skepticism, the opposition at every corner, with every breath.

My way. My capabilities. My willpower.

And look. Look at the transformation. Look at how now, the start, the initial launch of energy against inertia sets a whole universe of new life and joy and creativity and excitement and hope and teamwork in building something together - sets all of that in motion. The pride, the resilience. The adaptability, persistence. So many battles to make anything happen in this house. This house we will redefine.

Moments that just suck your soul away. You have to bear them. You have to leave, take a walk, sigh it out a million times, and carry on.

When do we choose to share. When shall we keep silent.

May 2, 2023
7:07AM Airdrie

You point out the infinite shades of pink purple red orange yellow of the sky. Standing on top of that hill, 360 degrees enveloped by the curvature of the universe - the feeling of freedom and timelessness and expanse.

You always follow a beautiful moment with something that undermines it. Cut your own happiness short before someone else does.

“It won’t be like this for long, they’ll soon build houses on this land and block the view.”

Things will change.

Why bother cleaning if things will get dirty again? Why bother eating if you’ll be hungry again? Why bother enjoying anything in the moment at all if you’ll be sad, disappointed anyways at the end?

The end.

What is that? We all already know. So why bother living at all?

Things change. Impermanence is another reminder to remember. We have the here, now. Be here now. Be moderate in preparing for the future. Where there will always be more ‘bad’. And so, also, good.

Always cutting ourselves short. Not allowing belief in happiness, because of the deeply ingrained conditioning. The repeated damage. “It won’t last long anyways.” Anyways. Anyways.

Fucking moments.
All we have are the fucking moments where we manage to feel joy and beauty and so just let it be that moment without diminishing its timeless power. Just because something doesn’t last doesn’t make it impermanent. That moment is indeed passing and it is static. Its memory and reliving and rerembering across a continuity of dimensions we can’t fathom.

So from which angle do you want to see the world?

Dare. Dare you to feel the happiness.

If you have found intention, value in your work, you’re living. Be a verb.

Labeling archiving sequencing
the satisfaction of order.
The illusion.

May 6, 2023
8:10AM Airdrie

Apple butter is made.

Keep your promises. Embers, Wagamese reminds. Dreaming is not doing.
All of us working, a team. Sharing a long dinner, delicious pork ribs. A new recipe. Little glimmers of these tired worn abused wounded tender calloused sensitive souls, wanting to start again.
Wanting to start again.
Still. All of us. Always. Somewhere.
Wanting to build a house, wanting to grow a garden, write a story.

Interweaving foolishly. The idea of something being better than itself.

But still. I still want to go camping. I still want to make all these things.
Like apple butter. I made it.
Start somewhere. Today. Cabinets, cake, cupcakes with apple butter center.

May 7, 2023
8:23AM Airdrie

We create, co-create the home we yearn to build through imagining, seeing, believing. Intention, courage, then action. Belief and some daring foolishness, naivety, innocence. Home as in, the energy we want to carve into the wooden container. The moments we want to create possibilities for. The memories. The making of.

To spend a weekend like this.
I wished for it. I make it happen.
These kinds of wishes that are not just wishes but actual steps of action.

Lounging, napping on the sofa amidst busyness buzzing around. Darvn picking up the work after mom and I are exhausted from a day of painting. Listening to calming country classics accompanied by the quiet cloudy skies, drifting in and out of sleep, cool fresh breeze of a weekend afternoon, smell of damp rain.

A beautiful mess to make before we reset. To clean, to unpack, to recolor how we see and experience this home.

Like brushes of care, effort. Messie.

That’s what it is.

Why?

Hi love,
it’s okay.
One day you will leave.
You will have your freedom.

And come back with it too.

But you, love,
I’m not sure.

But I will come back
to protect you too.

But perhaps,
you also fear

that freedom.

May 8, 2023
7:55AM Airdrie

That’s where I learned it from.
This? Inherited? Mirrored? Conditioned?

This heavy sinking dread.
”No matter.” This is why your beautiful, joyful, youthful soul is beaten up like this. Why we don’t believe.
No matter what you do.
No matter what you do, the ‘ending’ is like this.

And it shouldn’t, but it taints everything.

Actually it’s true. How we finish does affect the whole story, it changes the before. The so-what at the end. You have to follow through at the end and make a meaning (because there isn’t any) that honours the beautiful steps of the way. Or else. Like this.

Do you remember the beautiful moments? Hardly. Hardly, when you are trapped in such a condition.

But yes. Keep asking beautiful questions in un-beautiful moments.

Morning peace, ‘Sunday brunch’ playlist, overcoming challenges, admiring our work while sharing a lunch at the counter, our most refreshing peaceful walks, crisp cool rainy air. Arms outstretched, bodies twisting and turning, like we could almost fly away from this place.

So many times, your face lights up. And it’s like that joy itself is the enemy that needs to be squished down.

May 9, 2023
7:41AM Airdrie

“You’re like that light burning out behind the clouds.”

Shining, or burning out? Glowing, orange, bright. Cutting, through the stormy grey skies.
Why do I have to be the light.

Did you ever notice, cooked blueberries bursting into goo, is the vibrant purple of blood and blue? Red in the sky.

Leek dumplings and beer. News. Cheers.
”Isn’t the house beautiful now?”

Screaming, raging, punching stuff.

A boyish grin, honey crueller. It’s okay, it’s not fair, it’s okay to not know why. Thanks, Sister. Dip oreos in milk. Saiki K. Couch. Soft string lights and tree lamp.
Red walls.
Blue kitchen.
White cabinets.

We walk and talk it out. There’s fresh air. There’s each other to lift us up. There’s that impossible holy Airdrie sky reaching into infinity. Well, the hills that connect with the clouds. Tiny figures at the top of that hill. The lone chair. The climb. The freedom.

How passion is exhausted and mysteriously recharged again.

Giving up and picking up again. The company that keeps us going. The moments of love, whatever form we manage to recognized, almost blurred into the mess, but there in between nonetheless. The tiny gestures, habits, routines that could change everything.

If we remember. If we take heart to listen, notice.

Hope but not hope. Have big dreams but yes, no one owes you anything. You do you give, it’s your own responsibility. No equations.

The courage to believe in others.

May 10, 2023
8:08AM Airdrie

Which question do you want to ask?

“Never enough.”
Never good enough, never perfect enough, never thorough enough. That’s what makes us want to give up. Why bother. Two steps forwards, bottomless pit of freefall back.

And there we are again.

No matter.
No matter what you do, how much effort, how much giving. Take into consideration every perspective - clean the mountain explosion of dishes, clear the way, put back the furniture, cook, bake, get the fuck out of the way.

Still, one miscalculation.
One wrong question, wrong time. A ‘normal’ question taken into disastrous outrageous proportions.
One wrong cough. One extra irritating sound.

And there goes all the warm peaceful positive energy we’ve so meticulously nurtured and made space for.

No matter.

This is why we get worn out. We give up. Why bother. Why put so much effort into something utterly hopeless. Impossible. Toxic.
Detach, disengage. Leave.

I remember. I remember these sentiments, non-sentiments. Lessons you have too relearn.

The people you’ll never be close to again.
So good at letting go, you.

But what if we stay. A tiny gesture, new seeds. Espresso machine, making a latte, a warm smile amidst cold cold brutal expanse. Come back, you.

Toes in the grass
upside down
yellow dandelion waft
of air kiss Sun etc.
here. me. and all.

May 13, 2023
7:15AM Edmonton

Strange.
Is that the word.

Sentimental, nostalgic, blah blah. Sounds that are familiar, echos even at night when you close your eyes these whistles, bouncing balls, cheers. Bump set spike. Movements like dance, team gestures, a call, a physical touch, a playful or encouraging slap, highfive, lowfive, teammates, losing, winning, a routine before a serve. The physical sensation of those patterns.

4 am. 5 am. Early morning trudging forwards with a volleyball bag. Snacks. Team talks.

And now on the outside. On the other side of the bench. In a dress instead of a jersey and spandex, a Timmies black coffee instead of chocolate milk.

And this city. “Hometown” where no one is anymore. No one we can appropriately see.
What names we remember, what part of ourselves were once here, were crafted remembered here. Somehow the long winding highways, the emptiness and space and solitude. A park, any park. Wem. Things we don’t recall.

That’s all. Nothing really to be sentimental about.
A daze. From being too far for too long.

There’s nothing really to say.
Friendships, beer, hospitality, remembrance, remembrance. Itch? To go back on the court and leap, spike, be part of this orchestra, machinery, tapestry.
Hands so swollen.
Body so sore.
Too many escapes.

May 15, 2023
7:38AM Airdrie AB

Strange. Sighs, a heaviness. Some forlorn epoch.
The heart is trying so hard to breathe. To not sink.

Do pancakes not make you happy today? Do yo need to sweat it out, something, walk it off. Play piano. Maybe.

I want to play. Bounce twice, spin, breathe in, breathe out. Serve. The consistency, the focus under pressure, the diving onto the floor. I want to sling a volleyball bag across my shoulder, warm up, cheer. Run around the court. High five my team.

There was once upon a time. When we didn’t know we would never be there again. That’s all. We pass it on. We live the ages we get to live.

Mothers, sisters. Somedays positive, somedays these endless signs. We infect each other. Both good and bad.

Get your story together.
I love many things. I lose touch with joy so often. And we don’t try to control that. These things we wee humans have no control over. But. Forwards backwards. Before. What’s that before us? Is it front or back?

Today.

May 16, 2023
7:15AM Airdrie AB

That’s it.
That’s all.
The miraculous mundane.
You walk. Listen. Notice. Pass on. Perhaps channel something.
Again.
It’s about the silence. The simplicity. Ultimately. The rhythms, the tension, the perception of time, warping of time, the embodiment as the universe’s vessel, chaos, void.
It’s still, all this chaos, just to come back
to the silence.

To hear that feel that
Again.
”Life gives death meaning,” you said. It does work both ways. What’s before you is furthest behind you.
Why so irritated?
Why can’t we all take more attention to praising silence. To be. And simplify before speaking so we ask beautiful questions.

Every act of communication is an act.
It will shift the universe.
So act well.
Everyone, everything. Just stop.
So easy.
So why must we be brave? Why bother?
When we’ve had plenty enough. Felt, seen, enough. Nothing.
Someday, how lovely. Just to cease.
perhaps

May 17, 2023
7:29 AM Airdrie AB

The calm, or delight? That comes with endings, or catastrophes. Apocalypse. Natural disaster.
Maybe the ‘natural’ part.
Maybe the disruption of the ‘mundane’.
To witness the awe, the power of the universe. How little control we have.
The bizarre red dot piercing through the sky, smell of smoke, grey sheet of haze enveloping everything. Murky colours, wild wind. The gentle cotton candy clouds and clear blue expanse of a sky all veiled, forgotten.
Perhaps the scope of things.
Perhaps the bonding over disaster, hardships. A team, suddenly. A shared misfortune.
Perhaps some evil mischievous cynical delight, satisfaction with the world crumbling.

The out of control.

Whatever we try to grasp, too tightly, is what we end up crushing, or what escapes us.

Sleepy still, today is workout day. Stronger. Stronger. taller. Today is 2 eggs. Sharing latte with mom, making carrot pancakes. Passing a smile.

Today again free, this easygoing life. No obligations.

Today, cold we find magic somewhere again. New in familiar. Love what we love. Do that. Or be that. Or remember. But remembering is enough? All. All is what it is. That’s all.

May 18, 2023
7:27AM Airdrie AB

Singularity.
Remembering that old friends are there. Beethoven. Immortal beloved. The desire to play. Again, music. To program a new story. Bring colours to life.

The privilege of being a pianist.

All these titles that are responsibilities and blessings. Sister, daughter, pianist, writer, co-founder, chef, fairy. Human. Void. In whatever context. A name Tong that encompasses multitudes.

In singularity.

Of the earth? From the sea? Sky?

There were always, are always, will be always - people, things, memories, music that understand us. So joy sorrow happiness blessedness is everywhere. Always someone to channel and voice and give shape to that understanding. Words notes tastes smell feel touch of snow of soft of burn.

What is rage.

Injustice, fear, attempt to control, to destroy, to make so much noise, so what? To express something raw and violently emotional, to feel anything?

Spirituality: being connected to the energy of all creation

The recognizing. Spirit recognizing spirit.

Remembering that we remember.

May 19, 2023
7:46AM Airdrie AB

“Alive in every moment”
Really?
Technically, I guess, ya. But how can anything be expected to be present, receiving, fully alive in every moment.

That’s exhausting.

But today is a good day.

A day we can manage to have some conversation. “Conversation.” Light chatter that shows we are there, listening, caring, almost.

“How do you make this meatball. How do you make that pancake.”
”I remember
you don’t like fluffy.”

Those little attempts.

“What to try some?”

How did we try to coexist. Daily banter. Tiny tasks that overtake.
”Low level thinking.”

Every artist (being) remembers, remembers to say that being, being is a privilege, being an artist is a privilege. All that we are responsible for channeling, that is our burden and calling. It’s a way of life that is blessed.

At all times, you are loved.

Just by being alive, a mess or nothing, nothing is important. Trivial is important.

Moss.
Miniature power, delight, wondrous awe of every moment we are here, still figuring shit out, running in circles.

Bless.

May 20, 2023
7:26AM Airdrie AB

These are the days now, that we can also.
We order pizza.

We pick it up though, to save the ‘little fee’, but we order pizza.

Darvn’s eyes glow.
Momentous occasion.

We have upgrade. I say 4 times, upgrade. Fancy. Special. A celebration for no reason. A splurge. Stuffed crust. Stringy cheese. We gather around the table and eat slices of pizza. Take out. Friday night.

The house is transforming.

The evening soft jazz accompanying the memory lived in real again through screws and wood. But this time, company.

Do we want it or not?

I like it.

Home after a walk and making a smoothie, eating dragonfruit in peace, peace as in silence, safety, acceptance, space to exist, come as we are.

Before getting back to work, together.

We manage to put up the mirror.
After the trials. After juice, Dad comes back down. We try again. I’m peeling stickers. Mom and dad put up the mirror.

Teamwork.

Romantic soft evening jazz. We just need a glass of red wine, sink into the crimson leather sofa, wrap in velvet draps, green elephant ears, string lights.

A kind of Friday evening.

1 am. To peek stickers to soft jazz.

May 21, 2023
8:30AM Airdrie

To be guardians of each other’s solitude.
The sacred expanse in between.
The vulnerability of, in communication. Embracing the void. Our relationships with ourselves compounded with the infinite mysteries of others.

Fuck. I love.

My dearest brother mother father this little game of house, life, we all play some derpy foolish character in.

These are the days.

A weekend spent just preparing for a dinner, from gathering ingredients to chopping veggies, melting butter, smelling the slowly permeating fragrance of butter and caramelizing cherries.

The joy. When people take that bite. When people outside of you can connect with each other, laugh, reminisce, interact, and you can just step back to be the witness.

To create spaces and time.

Create is a funny word. More, to facilitate, channel space and time. Maybe just to frame, so we can all exist here in a certain way, context, with certain limitations. Facilitating connection. Again, just some derpy chase of making meaning out of random chaos, all repeating images.

Another dot of memory. Smudge, color.
Here in this house, red blue green yellow.
Rainbow windwood. Gathering of connections.

May 22, 2023
8:17AM Airdrie AB

“And so, we must meet apart”
embodiment. What is that?

I like going topless too. Like a boy. Ride
a scooter topless out in open air. I like my arms. Swinging skipping.

What has changed? What has not changed? What has been forgotten?
What does it take to remember
“that’s cute” you’re cute, you’re soft. I like you.

How, wonderful to like.
Sit and write something.

Precise naming. Limitations and failures of language, of thought, of body fingers making lines and circles.

Xs and Os, that’s all.
Fill in the in the imperfections. Having somewhere to go.

If I disappear, do I want to be found?

Either, it’s kinda fun. Imagining aa game. For now, to enjoy now. If someone, you, read these words, found a secret code here, said back
hello.
Remember to play 109 at my funeral.

Fun era L

L for

Lost, as in, not lost.

May 23, 2023
8:13AM Airdrie

Bubbletea with mom. To sit and do nothing.

Enjoy a crunchy brown sugar milk tea. Taking photos, laughing with strangers. Hearing that - yes, you have a voice, a beautiful laugh, a beautiful heart.
To see you try on make up.
Empowerment. The necessity and the voice that beauty bestows.

We just have to take a walk. Just listen. Silence or complaints or sometimes noticing together a blue sky, the fresh breeze.
Morning latte.

Again, team work. Helping each other rather than dragging each other down.

The anxiety. That even while out having fun, you can’t have too much fun. The dread to go back, the urgency you must get back before too late. The knowing and unknowing, what will happen this time.
Why do people do that? Is it the resentment, fear of being left out, left behind, unwanted, unneeded, jealousy, anger, reality that you can’t possess or force someone to be only yours or happy only with you? Or they cannot be happy at all.

Garage doors open. We stealthily retreat.
Hide.
Get out of the way.

May 24, 2023
8:19AM Airdrie AB

You want something to bleed.
Why?

Live life rather than clinging to it. To live vs. to survive. “Immortal tenderness.” Dear old friend Beethoven still sleeping still loving still by your side.

How marvellous, this way the world was created.

Also, “Marvellous Cutie.”
”It’s always been a honour and privilege to write for you.”

People love us, in brief moments, or periods of time, back when we didn’t notice enough.
I miss and I don’t miss.

Numbers are cool.
”You’re with me even when we’re not together.”
All of you.

“There will come a daywhen you can be sad for the things you are sad about.”

May 25, 2023
6:32AM Airdrie

The deep desire to self-destruct.

To go back to the beginning and start again.

Purge, empty, unburden, erase the evidence, guilt, mistakes. To be small, pure, clean.

Or the desire for pain.

Stoic romantic. Gravitas without melodrama.

Melancholy.

The disease. Not grieving, not raging, not pathetique. But not knowing, what it is that has been lost.
The incurable. Disease of melancholia.

I see. The action. Acts of service that an identity or love is bound to. Chains, ropes, wires. A meticulously crafted gourmet burger (actually 2) at 5:30AM. Staring close up to see the Tex mix is evenly laid out on the brioche bun. Layers of lettuce, tomato (that will be picked out anyways), grilled bun, patty, fruits, veggies. “Do you want something to eat now?”

To do so much without gratitude in return.
We all know that.

But I see you. Today I saw that. What you do for us. All the unjustifiable ways of love. Nonetheless piercingly painfully tender.

We all think and and feel and logic and rage from our own damn insignificant limited perspectives.
The greed.
Never enough. Never enough.
So, to restart. To cease. Self-destruct.

May 26, 2023
Airdrie AB

Freedom from fact.
Fact is not truth.

Finding our truths. What is thta?

Noticing the motion, the escape of energy, heat, swirling dancing interweaving around the edge of the spoon. Animated like a film, like graphic rat. The fibre veins of a caramelized banana. The rim of the mug with that smoking steam.
How energy is transferrred.

Wild and strange, all of us. To allow that strangeness. To celebrate what.

Stranger and stranger.

Walking up a hill. Memories of a simple moment. Often thanks to a photo, or blurry imagination.
Rainbow walk. Fresh, silent sweet sunrise strolls.
Pork floss bun.
Tricycle.