Time and Tears

Life is absurd. Happiness is arbitrary. Pain is inevitable. Oh, the melodrama! Dear heart, bleed for me.

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

What Possessed Them?!

Flock of 1,500 sheep leaps off cliff in Turkey
450 animals die; others are saved by falling into pile
ASSOCIATED PRESS

ISTANBUL, Turkey — First one sheep jumped to its death. Then stunned Turkish shepherds, who had left the herd to graze while they had breakfast, watched as nearly 1,500 others followed, each leaping off the same cliff, Turkish media reported today. In the end, 450 dead animals lay on top of one another in a white pile, the Aksam newspaper said. Those who jumped later were saved as the pile got higher, cushioning the fall, the daily newspaper Aksam reported. "There's nothing we can do. They're all wasted," Nevzat Bayhan, a member of one of 26 families whose sheep were grazing together in the herd, was quoted as saying by Aksam. The estimated loss to families in the town of Gevas, located in Van province in eastern Turkey, is close to 100,000 Turkish lira, which is equal to roughly $91,000 Cdn. This is a significant amount of money in a country where average GDP per person is around $2,700 US. "Every family had an average of 20 sheep," Aksam quoted another villager, Abdullah Hazar as saying. "But now only a few families have sheep left. It's going to be hard for us."

Friday, July 08, 2005


I live in a world of flowers, books and fairytales shadowed by paranoia, self deprecation and death. It is a world full of dichotomies and contradictions. It is a world full of confusion. A world I escape to but cannot escape from.
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Monday, June 27, 2005


Some days when I feel dejected and ready to throw myself down the bridge of despair, along comes McDonald�s. There is something unmistakably satisfying about the fat surging through my body as I bite into my BigMac and the oil and salt residues the stain my fingers and contain absolutely no nutritional value. Perhaps it�s the feeling of my arteries clogging and the promise of dieing just a few years earlier that is subconsciously so satisfying. Or perhaps it�s a sick attempt to amplify my pain and self hatred by making myself flabby and grotesque. Or perhaps it�s a simple sugar/fat rush that my body needs so that it�s more preoccupied with riding me of the harmful trans-fats than feeling sorry I was ever born. Whatever the reason, it works. Of course, I only live to regret it.
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Sunday, June 26, 2005

.Surrealist..Nightmare.

I’ve been feeling a certain absurdity lately. It’s nothing new but yet the feeling never fails to take me by surprise and pierce through my heart and mind such that for an instant I become as though paralyzed. There is no warning, it comes and goes. And with it brings a cold shiver of realization followed by an utter lack of understanding.

At these moments I see death before my eyes and I am overcome with a senseless fear. The fear only lasts for a brief moment as I struggle to return to consciousness and push the unwelcome thoughts back into the dark corners of my mind. But it is only followed by a rush of questions that when asked only serve to bring back the terror.

What does it mean to fear death?

I have thought about this question more than perhaps I should at my age. I have thought about it since I can remember but only recently have I been able to fully imagine its consequences and thus only recently have I started to experience these surges of emotions (by recently I mean that last couple of years). To me death has always symbolized the unknown. It is the end of our consciousness; the end of our being. And what does it mean to not exist any longer? I do not know and I do not think I want to know.

So is it possible to ever come in terms with this ultimate unknown? With this unimaginable infinite lack of existence? I used to think there was. I used to think that the only way I could live on forever was in the memory of my fellow human beings. I believed that the only way I could be remembered forever was to do something great. I wanted to save the world not because I thought it needed saving but because I thought it would be a great reason to live… a noble reason.

Then I grew up and I began to realize my limitations. I came face to face with failure and began to think that perhaps I was never meant for greatness despite what I had always wanted to believe. But deep down inside I never truly believed it and still don’t because for me to accept such a thing would mean that I would have to stop living. But along the way I lost sight of my goals. I became self centered and spent years in self deprecation as a result.

Every now and then I wake up from this surrealist nightmare and look at myself in the mirror and wonder if it’s still possible to be all that I wanted to be. There was a time when I would die for an idea and a just cause, now I wonder if I’ll ever have the chance.

These days I see a world that is bowing on its knees. It’s been beaten and grief stricken. It’s a world that needs saving from itself. Every day I hear the tallies of a new massacre. Every day I hear of inexcusable crimes against humanity and every day I see more and more that our society is only moving farther and farther away from a common good. I feel powerless. And yet I feel responsible. I do not know why I should feel so but I am disgusted at the ignorance and apathy of human beings and appalled by their greed, envy and disseat. Now more than ever I feel helpless because it seems that I have awaken from my egotistic trance but am instead faced with a solid wall of bureaucracy.

Friday, April 22, 2005

What a Waste!

Having a spent an entire day at the public library reading Animal Farm in one sitting (not that it's a long book) I wondered the streets of downtown Toronto in search of food -- I had quite forgotten to feed myself being absorbed in the said farm adventure. Now it is quite extraordinary that you are still able to find places downtown that only accept cash. I was taken quite aback by this when I realized that I was going to be denied by much desired bagel as a result of no cash. Subway had to be substituted for the said bagel-- it was really quite sad. I decided to have an orange juice with my meal. This juice came in a glass bottle. When I was done drinking, I found to my surprise that the store did not have a recycling bin. So I carried the bottle with me down the street in search of a recycling bin and so happened to wonder in a nearby Starbucks where I ordered a "Zen" tea (I won't go into the details of the hypocritical names of these brewed drinks as then I will probably have to delve into my own hypocrisy for purchasing them!). Having not yet found a recycling bin, I asked the cashier if they had any recycling bins where I may dispose of my bottle. She quickly answered "yes" and took my bottle. While I was walking by with my tea I watched her. She stared at the bottle, confused, for a little while and having looked around her, asked her coworker where the recycling bin was. He gave the bottle a dirty look and said quite loudly "we don't have a recycling bin, just throw in the garbage!" I was quite appalled at this course of action but could do no more as I saw her drop the bottle under the counter as he said this. Alas, the glass bottle was lost among heaps of paper cups and brewed coffee beans to be disposed of in some environmentally destructive manner. Either my children or I will probably live to witness the horrifying effects of this act of brutality.


Moral of the story: do your own recycling! Trust no one!

Thursday, February 24, 2005


Her eyes glued to the graying earth, she walks aimlessly upon hidden tracks and forbidden passageways. She passes burning trees and sinking mountains. She threads upon crimson rivers and blackened flowers. Around her the world is sinking. Around her bodies are drifting. She takes no notice.

Her head bent low, she swims in an ocean of thoughts. Her opinions stray wild and collide. There are no justifications. Around her the sea is sinking, sinking into the opening wound of mother earth. The dolphins cry and the sharks drift blind. Around her the world is dieing, bleeding and falling. She takes no notice.
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Her body is quenched but her soul drenched. There are no tears to be shed. Now only desire remains. The desire to satisfy this insatiable pain lingers in her heart. But there are no tears.

Her only salvation lies in looking the world in the eye. Her salvation lies in seeing, hearing and feeling. If only she could take her eyes from the floor, if only she could hold her head up high. She cannot. She is frightened. She has been damaged beyond repair.

In her solitude she embraces her wounded soul. In her solitude she clings on to the pieces of her shattered self. In her solitude she grabs for her drifting life; drifting before her eyes; eyes that hold no remorse, only bewilderment

And in her solitude she begins to decay. As the world loses meaning and as it ceases to exist, in her solitude she too ceases to exist. She slowly blends in with the sea and is devoured by the earth. She slowly bleeds. She slowly dies away. Fading, drifting, she still cannot weep.
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Tuesday, February 22, 2005


There came across my path
A stranger who dared make me laugh
He sewed through and through
What lingered of my broken past

He wrapped his arms and healed
A broken mind and broken wings
He stood strong with his eyes burning bright
And looked through my heart, fighting hard

He held with all his might
A heart burning fiery bright
He stretched with his emerald leaves
And gathered a heart that cleaves

“One food after another” he plead
“I will help you along the conduit.
Lend me your hand dear heart,
And I will lend you way to light”

He then held me high and let me fly
The solemn trunk, he sat and watched
As I soared through the open sky
My mended wings now stretched wide

Golden petals upon a face so bright
Burning with all their might
Destroyer of the wicked night
Lit up my life

I wept, joy in my heart
Shimmering pearl, down they fall
Innocent child
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