"I need high ceilings."

Just finished reading Running with Scissors. Excellent book. It's based on the personal memoirs of Augusten Burroughs, a boy who survived quite possibly the most insane and ridiculous childhood ever.

And then I picked up the movie. Not as good, but still good. It gives form to the physical madness that surrounded Augusten at such a young age. Imagine living in a house where the mother eats Kibble, the father uses shit as a way of interpreting God's will, one daughter believes her cat talks to her, and the other daughter is a total free-spirit with a foul mouth (I mean that figuratively). Add to that, mentally ill patients being treated in the house, and you have one twisted childhood.

This book is great because it's a story of survival over adversity. Okay, that's soooo cliche, but oh so true. Augusten is a man of superb resilience and inner strength. Even when the odds were stacked against him, he managed to find humour and wit in his environment, and this unique ability to turn unfortunate circumstances into positive experiences made him a better person than most. Instead of wallowing in what could have rapidly become his own personal hell, he used his talents in writing to keep himself sane. He also provided a much older version of himself with insights into the mind of a teenager who struggled with his demons and those of the people around him.

The reason why you need to read this book is because it shows us just how amazingly simple it is to believe that things will get better. Searching for normalcy is often the path to self-discovery and the revelation that what is normal usually isn't.

Entertainment: Inspiration for Life's Strangest Moments

As a gay man, I used to have this need to identify with something other than myself. That may sound strange, but it's true. I was never entirely sure if I was living my life or someone else's. I suppose that might be due to the fact that for roughly 18 years, I lived 2 lives. One as a secretly fashion-loving fairy, and another as normal straight boy.

This is probably why I'm so addicted to movies like X-Men, Spider-Man, and Superman. I also watch a lot of Smallville (a TV series depicting the teenage life of Clark Kent before he donned the cape and tights). The characters in these shows are hidden from the world, and yet somehow they survive in it. They lead dual-lives, have secret identities and are special in their own little ways.

There were times when I used to dream that my life wasn't my own. That I was special in ways that others are not. Yeah, that's a big egotistical, but also fantastical (yes, that's a word). But when reality set in again, I found that I was not the only one of my "kind", there are others who were just like me. In fact, many young gay men identify very strongly with characters of this type because they are afraid to reveal themselves to the world. Comics in general, use this theme to draw in certain kinds of readers.

The reality of the situation was that the more I tried to identify with characters like Clark Kent and Peter Parker, the more isolated I felt. I wasn't like them, in fact, I'm perfectly normal and not powered by super-abilities. But still I tried. I day-dreamed my way through 18 years of duality. And even though those fantasies remained fantasies, my survival and endurance were real. I gained confidence and inner strength I never knew I had.

The world of entertainment exists for this very purpose. To make us feel like we have role models we can aspire to, people of character and strong moral judgement who rise above the oppression sustained by the general public's fear. These are we people look up to, idolized and revered.

When life throws you a curve ball, the easiest thing to do is retreat into a fictional world where nothing is real, and yet portrays characters in situations that often could be real. That is the magic of television. Which brings me to my point, that even though the worlds we see on the screen are made-up, they can inspire us to better ourselves and to rise above our own problems.

Perceive

Do you see?

What do you see? Do you see me,
Or do you see through me?
Am I kind?
Am I mean?
Am I the person I claim to be,
Or am I someone else?

Who am I? Do you know,
Or do you pretend to know me?
Am I your brother?
Am I your friend?
Am I myself,
A person I barely know?

Do you ask yourself, do you wonder,
Is he true, or is this a game?
Is he afraid?
Is he sure?
Is he the one running in circles,
Or are you?

What do you know? And how,
Can you be certain?
Are you yourself?
Are you someone else?
Are you the person you thought I knew,
Or a shadow on the wall?

How can I see? Should I ask,
Where do you stand?
May I speak?
May I question?
May I know your soul,
Or do you keep it from me?

Who sees true? We see each other,
But do we really?
Should we continue?
Should we fail?
Should we make the best,
Or do we quit in the here and now?

See the truth? See what lies,
Beneath the facade, a semblance.
Should we try?
Should we deny?
Should we keep it all,
For better or for worse?

What now? We keep on,
Push ever onwards.
Why not take it?
Why not take flight?
Why fight what we know,
To be true?

Do you see?

I am a Facebook Divorcee

Yesterday, I deactivated my Facebook account. Why, you ask? Because Facebook no longer serves my needs in its capacity as a networking tool. In short, I don't need it anymore.

This may seem absurd or strange to many of you, but it makes perfect and logical sense to me. Facebook was introduced, like all things cool on the Internet, to me by friends and rapidly became an outlet for time better spent studying. We all used to joke about how much time we spent on Facebook: updating our profiles, reading other people's walls, searching for new friends to add, etc. We allowed it to consume our lives.

Eventually, Facebook added the News Tracker feature, which allowed users to track any and all movements of other users on Facebook. This was met with anger and dismay, as it opened the door for real "stalking" not just the joking kind of stalking we all claimed to do to each other. You could literally see everything a person did on Facebook, down to the exact changes made to a section of a personal profile.

Following that came the true opening of the floodgates: admittance of non-university/college users. You no longer had to have a university or college e-mail account that was registered with Facebook to become a member. Anyone could join as long as the invite was sent out by a current member. Soon, the Facebook network became infested with all manner of users. This to me, was incomprehensible given MySpace's security problems with real-life stalkers and pedophiles. Add to this, Facebook users' tendency to post drunken pictures of themselves on their profiles and you have a breeding ground for seedy online encounters.

A confidential source has also informed me of the unofficial use of Facebook to screen potential employees by employers. This is not entirely legal, especially in the case of gays, where sexuality can be used as a mark against an otherwise polished and qualified resume. However, employers cannot legally be charged with discrimination as the information posted on many Facebook accounts can be retrieved by virtually anyone, and can thus be argued to be public information.

I found myself looking through the Home page in my Facebook account, and wondering what I was looking at. There was an overload of information being thrown at me: so-and-so changed his picture, so-and-so wrote on so-and-so's wall, so-and-so is now friends with so-and-so. The list goes on. It was like being bombarded with useless and more-often-than-not irrelevant information. Despite my attempts to eliminate this feature from my account, I was still unable to truly appreciate the complexity of Facebook anymore. I no longer felt compelled to sift through other people's profiles. I no longer enjoyed reading snippets of conversations on other people's walls. It just seemed so utterly, and completely useless to me.

So let's summarize, shall we. Facebook is bad because it is a) a waste of time, b) ideal for real stalking, c) a negative impact on employment opportunities, and d) a stadium for competitions to see who has the most friends on the most networks. That last point shouldn't need explaining. The competitive nature of college/university students is perfect for this style of one-up-manship. On the surface it appears to boost self-esteem, when it is in fact decreasing self-worth by reinforcing the notion that more friends means greater self-worth. This is completely untrue, as often a person's closest friends tend to form a rather small circle. So you can see, Facebook is also detrimental to a person's mental and psychological health.

I have therefore decided it no longer serves my needs in the realm of communication. Given my current network of friends, I see no reason to keep this account open and active. Many of the contacts on my list no longer keep in contact with me, nor I them. If you need to contact me, or leave me messages, e-mail will suffice.

What's Missing from My Life?

I have always believed that a person should be complete on their own before seeking out a partner. To do otherwise might lead to using partners as ways of getting to that minimal level of happiness. Having now been single for almost a year (a week after Valentine's Day will make it exactly one year since my last "date"), I'm beginning to wonder if that's true.

Since I arrived back in Calgary, I wondered if opportunities to meet people would improve. Maybe I might find someone right here in my own hometown. It seemed almost impossible, since Calgary isn't exactly the most liberal city in Canada. There were several instances where I certainly had the opportunity to "make a move", but I told myself "I'm leaving in a few months, why start anything now?"

As time wore on, I began to feel more and more alone. I felt unhappy, dissatisfied with my life and my current state of mind. Falling back on my belief system, I told myself that it would be impossible to find someone if I couldn't rediscover my own happiness within myself. I had to improve my self-confidence and self-esteem if I was to find another human being to share myself with.

The problem is, couples are everywhere. For instance, just last week I was wandering around West Edmonton Mall and noticing just how many couples there were around me. And yet, for almost a year I haven't had a single date. Not one. That's the problem, I am constantly reminded of how many people in my life have others to share theirs with. No matter how much time I spend meditating, trying to find that inner happiness that once fueled an ability to go up to virtually anyone and ask for a phone number, it eludes me still.

I question myself daily: do I need to be complete before finding someone else, or can someone else help me to become more complete once again? Have I subconsciously shut the world out in an effort to regain my inner balance, or is this the point where I swallow my pride and ask for support from another person?

The answers remain distant, but I know they're there. It's just a matter of time before I figure it out, and maybe this is meant to be. Maybe I need to hit the bottom again before I can start climbing up again. And if that's the case, then I would gladly let go to speed things up.

In Silence, There is Peace

"No sooner spoken than broken..."

Having just spent the last four days alone in the house, I find myself suddenly inundated with noise. The sound of footsteps on the floors above, the dishwasher running, a TV airing reruns. All of it, it just feels so....loud.

This feeling has been further impressed by a viewing of Terrence Malick's The New World. This film artfully reflects the meeting of Europeans and First Nations on the shores of what is now Virginia. Before the arrival of settlers, the First Nations peoples knew peace and tranquility. A certain ease with the world around them. Upon landing on the shores, the settlers begin their devastation of the land. Cutting down trees, firing cannons, building forts and houses. All of it, noise and static in a land at peace with its inhabitants.

And that's not the only way this idea is conveyed. Malick also reduces the amount of spoken dialogue in the film, giving way to images and music which more than adequately instill a mood and sense of serenity in the viewer. The characters are not uncomfortable in the long silences, and are able to communicate without needless flapping of the mouth.

Have we lost our commune with that which is unheard? We drown ourselves in the noise that fills our world. On streets, the sound of cars whizzing by, horns blaring, alarms ringing. In buildings, phones jingle, doors slam, music plays. Only when we exit the concrete jungle to enter the outside world does all of that stop.

People spend hours talking on their phones if only to feel connected in some way to another human being. We make small-talk to fill the empty silences that accompany meetings. And when silence finally descends upon a group of people, a single word emerges: awkward.

Why is that? Why has it become so difficult to enjoy the stillness of the air and to not be constantly in need of noise? I try to make use of quiet surroundings to distill my thoughts. Meditation in a secluded space allows me to appreciate my experiences and ideas. But when confronted with so much noise, this can be very frustrating. In these sessions, I find myself going ever deeper to escape the ringing and banging and talking. Tuning out has become a necessary skill, if only to maintain my sanity.

Go back in your memory. Find the last time you stopped to enjoy silence. I know how it made me feel. How about you?

Reinvention: Fantasy or Possibility?

I sometimes wonder what it would be like to be someone else. To be better, to be different. Would my life be better? Would I be happier? Or would things be the same but in a different context and setting? For instance, I've always wanted to know how my life would have turned out if I'd grown up in a small town. Somewhere small enough that a family's secrets are rarely their own. Or what if I'd been the son of a middle-class family instead of growing up in a family where we can afford to be less careful with money? Might I be more modest, less of what some people might call an "uptight prick"? I wonder, and yet I will never know the answers.

In less than 48 hours we will enter the year 2007. With the arrival of a new year comes new year's resolutions. We all resolve to be better this time around. Many strive for things like better diets, more exercise, more reading, less time in front of the TV. Mundane, and to be frank, ridiculous changes.

C'mon, don't argue it. We all say we'll do these things, but we never do. The idealist in me wishes it were more fact than fiction that people could really change the way they act, but the realist in me says it just ain't so. So why make a resolution at all?

I believe it's because we strive for reinvention. We all wish to be better, some even want to be different. And not just different from everybody else, but different from ourselves. It's a way of changing that feels significant, and not so half-assed. You know it's true; to say "I will eat better this year and exercise more" is a lie. It's a lie.

However, we're all allowed to dream. We can wish and hope that things will magically happen on their own, and maybe that's for the best. Dreaming for better things, even if those things are personal traits, is what makes us human, right? And so we step into another year with renewed hope that someday things will change.

Reminiscence...

There are times when I really miss university. I miss the routine of a set of courses each week, most of which could be skipped if the material was online. I miss having friends around 24/7, with whom I would procrastinate (on Facebook). I miss the focused direction of energy during exam periods where you knew what you had to know, and you studied it. Make note, I don't miss exams in the least.

University was fun, it was exciting, it was new. Something was always going on, things were constantly in motion. I feel as though now that I'm in the "real" world, things slow down quite a bit. My job, for instance, isn't as dynamic as McGill campus. I'm stuck at a desk, in front of a computer for 8 hours of a day. For 5 days straight. I don't have the luxury of going for coffee in the middle of the afternoon with friends. I can't spend hours on Facebook because shit needs to get done (not that I would, or did). And I can't skip out on work since my mom is the boss.

But then I remember this time of the year. When McGill managed to muck up the exam schedule such that we'd be writing exams one after another. I remember that instead of being paid, I was paying. I remember how little my existence meant to the university. Life sure has changed in 6 months.

Being a working member of society certainly has its advantages. I get paid every 2 weeks. I can leave my work at work (most of the time). I'm not pulling all-nighters for an exam that matters very little in the grand scheme of things. And I have a say in the direction of my company. No longer am I just a 9-digit number who forks out several thousand dollars per year. Those days are long past.

To think, just 8 months ago, I was suffocating in grasp of McGill's administration. Worrying over my grades and the graduation that got postponed. So much has changed in so little time. Hell, even the city of Montreal is fading in my memory. I'm rediscovering my hometown, reforging relationships with my family. What hasn't changed are the friendships that were forged over the past 5 years. Many did not survive, but many more did. I have a wife now (so-to-speak), and friends I'll be seeing when I get over to the other side of the Pacific. I'm more comfortable in my skin than I've ever been, and I'm moving towards a new destination. A new career.

We all look to the past for inspiration. I think now it's time to look to the future. So here's to walking off into the sunset, and all that lay beyond it....