Slowing down with a concussion

It took me getting a second concussion to slow my mind and body entirely again. I. Just. Can’t . Seem. To. Stop. Unless a brain injury or the likes FORCES me to stop. I never rest my brain, ever. I’m always doing , thinking , moving . I’m a freaking machine trapped in a petite woman’s body.

I’ve been laying around the dimly lit house for the past few days and the perspective I’ve gained on everything in my life is remarkable.

It is like therapy without seeing a therapist . It is a road trip to all your most cherished dreams without leaving the darkness of your own room. It is a reality check with no conversations needed with anyone but yourself.

For three days straight , all I did was sleep, eat and sleep . I slept over 40 hours these past few days .

Stepped into the sunshine today for the first time in what felt like weeks and I felt lucky.

I try not to regret anything in life . I’m a clumsy fuck . I should pay attention more to the little things in life . I forget how fragile we can be and how little it takes for us to forget where we are , who we are and where we want to be.

Life is short . Live it the best way you can . Don’t let go of your dreams . Live them , attain them , don’t lose patience and hope . Have a little faith and keep going .

But first, rest that brain.

There’s a cat on me. I think it knows I’m lonely.

There’s a cat on me.

I think it knows I’m lonely.

I gave myself a black eye

By falling on my face.

I’m laughing.

I’m not dead , just clumsy.

It’s sunny out

James Brown is playing

Last year I got too high

From that dumb volcano.

On New Year’s Eve,

I fell asleep.

A friend of a friend snorted a line

And drove me home.

Drugs are dumb

Booze destroys my spirit.

People are cowards,

They’re afraid to feel.

I might go for a walk

The sun is shining

Part of me wishes the ice at Glenmore

Would break underneath my feet

And take me for a frozen swim.

It’ll cleanse my body

It’ll be like a reset.

The more I write, the more I process

The more I feel free.

I’m going to get off my ass

And make peace with life.

It HAS been a beautiful year.

There is beauty in adversity.

There is beauty in this pain.

You have to find it, I tell myself

And you ought to laugh more.

And you ought to stop dwelling

On the stupid shit from yesterday

Because it’ll ruin the moment

And this moment is quite perfect:

I have a cat on me

It’s hugging me unconditionally

We are listening to Susto.

And there is no music as raw as Susto’s.

There is sun outside

I’m waking up from this nap.

Goodbye 2017,

You shook me hard

But I’m not dead yet .

Love is a verb

As per John Mayer’s “Love is a verb”, “Love ain’t a thing, love is a verb.”

I’ve spent countless lonely holiday seasons looking back at some of the expensive gifts that were bought to me from men that “loved” me. The gifts were never given from the heart but from the system that claimed this was the way to a woman’s heart.

These men never took the time to really know the real me, what I liked, what I disliked.  I was used as an ego boost and was often put on a pedestal.

People: love is in the small things. Spend time with your loved ones, laugh until you can’t breathe, pick up wood for that fire you’re building later, watch the night sky, paint the kitchen walls together, make food, and make love.

Why is it so hard for people to make love ? Hook up culture, count me out. I’ve been there, and let me tell you, no happiness was found. A quick rush, sure, followed by a big void.

I don’t want your engagement ring. I don’t care how much you make or the expensive shit you can give me for the rest of my life.

I’ll take a good conversation over all this other crap any day. I’ll take your kindness and your good heart.

I’ll take a walk in the woods over a trip to Disneyland.

I’ll take a night around a campfire over a day at the mall.

I’ll take small gatherings of close friends over an entire table of acquaintances.

Love is doing. Love is action.

Show your love, don’t buy it. Don’t get caught up in the system.

How are you showing your love this season ?

Tell me about your anger problems

It’s funny how you can’t help to feel like your problems are the biggest burden in the world and then you watch some crazy fucked up movie about rape, murder, police stations being blown up, people getting thrown out of windows and all the anger in the world gathered into a smart witty plot and your anger feels justified and you don’t feel as ashamed about your own anger towards injustices in this world, people hurting you psychologically, physically, emotionally and sexually.

You feel less alone in your craziness. You feel like your shit is real and valid.

“Get over it.”

“People have gone through worse shit.”

“Let it go.”

Then why is it that sometimes I can’t breathe at night, or in the middle of the day, I can’t remember what happened yesterday or five minutes ago, I binge on sugar until I puke, and can’t trust the words that come out of anyone’s mouth ?

People’s realities are to be believed. And the process will be long. And it took watching a movie at the theatre alone to feel less alone in my bullshit. The irony.


The Eel part 1

You were a sharpened knife

Ready to carve

Short and quick

Coward to the bone  

 At devil’s reach

 I became raw meat

Burst of cries and lies

An eel came to kiss me

I raided the closet

Never to return

I drove home once


I sat on a park bench


Craving for your warmth

I circled the mirage

Like a hawk

The ocean

You once or never were?

Five years too late

Your love letters mean nothing, asshole

Too coward to ever love 

Love yourself, will you?


Lost and delusional

I ended up among the steel birds

Where the sentimentalists

Made the ‘port  home.

The ordinary became obsolete

The 9 to 5 non-existent

Broken dreams became distant

The world was ours

Whenever we wanted it to be

Minds emptied

We rejected the shattered glass

The fortune cookie that fed us lies

The monopoly that told us who to be

And good souls we were

All of us,

For a moment

For a short time

Perhaps a lifetime

And good souls suffer fast

The picture of your daughter

In your wallet

Your happy demeanour

But your empty heart

The very same daughter

You were banned to see forever

We never fucked, thankfully

I knew it’d be loveless anyway

I won’t forget our fight

In our small hotel room

Our bodies touching

In the miniature bed we shared 

In Osaka.

Thought I’d see the chair flying

Only your temper came knocking 

Your father had passed

I pushed your buttons

Travel made us richer

But we couldn’t stand each other

And you, friend,

The disturbed mind of a poet

You mumbled out death

I screamed out life

And we formed a bond

Incomprehensible to this day.

You make no sense


But I’ll still be there 

At the Ship 

With a pint of something 

While you mix your usual beer-cola

What’s it taste like anyway? 

And then at dusk,

Our demons met our angels

I listened to your soul speak

On lonely nights 

with no travellers

Loud and belligerent you were

You lived fast 

and you might die young

But it didn’t matter

Because you lived for today

And didn’t care what they’d say

She married another,

I don’t think you ever recovered 

I’ll go for a drink , sure,

But what’s the point anyway?

Don’t I still remind you of her?

And you C,

You ran away from the isle

Death left you breathless 

You tasted the west coast first

And ended up breathing the mountain air

You get me, I get you

We don’t need a translator 

We communicate borderline telepathically

Don’t let another fool you, friend

You deserve the moon and you know it

One night on the road,

I blacked out

A freak accident

Shattered my skull

I drank at Jame’s Beach


My mind became fuzzy

My emotions amplified

I screamed nonsense

The blow was more severe than it appeared to be

A manager tried to fire me

For the “invisible” injury

And I loathe him to this day

For causing me more pain

Than my body could handle

You disgust me.

They say,

Forgive those that are not sorry

Well, I’m not sorry

And I’m not forgiven 

But nobody cares

The eel came to kiss me

That night again

When I met you

At a party

A curse you were and still are

Go away, leave me alone

I’m squinting real hard 

To see the meaning in you

I don’t see it

I see your pale face

My body goes into shock 

People believed your lies

The abuser hides well

Behind his innocent charm

Don’t believe it.

But you were all fooled

And I’m the “crazy” one, of course

And I fooled myself

The gut knew

But I didn’t listen

It wasn’t really a blow, my “friend” had said

It doesn’t count!

Every scream , every push, 

every “I didn’t mean to” hit you there, every lie, 

Every mind fucked

Twisted manipulation 

It all counts, dammit!

I won’t forget your screams 

When I had my concussion

You fucking animal

But no, you were “helping” me

And I should thank you

Take your shit and go

Ironically, the nice cop said 

“Go home”

And you stayed and smoked weed all day

With our good for nothing roommate

I ended up cleaning the dirtied walls

Because you were too lazy.

Lucky me. 














Don’t buy into the illusion – does it matter anyway?

I’ve been thinking a lot about the term “illusion” lately, what it is and how we define it. 

How can we differentiate illusion from reality and is there such a thing as illusion vs reality? I see illusion and reality as being interchangeable. Reality might be an illusion and illusion might be reality. 

There’s a saying that goes, “Don’t buy into the illusion”. But, what if that illusion is actually reality? 

There’s also reality and then there’s YOUR reality.  How do we differentiate those two – or should we?

Part of me sees life as an illusion all to itself anyway and I think that how we feel at a specific moment and time is oftentimes dismissed by the limited view that’s being constructed for you by others as opposed to by you and that little voice inside your head that tells you , hey, this might definitely just be an illusion. But what if it isn’t, and we went with our own reality for once instead?  Can’t there be validity in our own truth? I think there can, we just choose to ignore it and think of the worse instead of savouring that moment. 

Nothing ever stays the same. Savour those moments of bliss while you can.

But then, truth be told, there’s illusions I really don’t buy into: 

-materialism (it won’t make you happier)

-money (it won’t make you “richer”) and

-degrees (they won’t make you smarter). :P

That’s all. Happy Weekend. 

And before, what were you? Don’t be a half.

And before…you were? What were you, exactly? Or were you ever? Will you still be, or want to be who you were always meant to be or will you die of indifference, lassitude and complacency?

a being, human, a person, a friend, free, whole, alive, happy, a free-spirit, awake, unique, sexual, an individual, a creator, a lover, a fighter, an explorer, someone who gives a damn, a traveler, in touch, a thinker, a pleasure-seeker, a researcher, a soul-seeker, self-lover, self-aware, a listener, a learner, a motivator, a breather, a mover, a feeler, an adventure-seeker, a shit-disturber.

The life inside you can only be filled by you and only you. There is no such thing as a half. You were always whole, you were never a half and never meant to be a just a half.

Wholes can co-exist, you know. We need not to diminish our wholes to conveniently fit with a half that’s yet to discover their wholeness.

Don’t believe everything you see. Feel what there is to feel. Be who you were meant to be. Don’t doubt the journey. We are where we’re supposed to be. You are who you are. Just be. Be whole. Be happy.







Unconditional numbness

What he gives you is nothingness. It is self-serving, a degrading form of lust – if you can call it that; a deep narcissistic outlook on life that disarms him from even seeing you as a human being. To him, you are a plant, a convenient body he can pleasure himself on. He attempts to give you any form of pleasure, but he fails miserably by being too forceful, too controlling, too…too out of touch to understand what he’s doing to you, to even care, really.

He finds you interesting but he preys like a hawk and he takes and he never gives. Never will he give. Never will he love, never will he be there for you. Never will he trust, never will he let his guard down, never will he kiss you and mean it, never will he want more from you, never will he respect you and see you for who you are. 

I call it unconditional numbness whereas all I have for you is unconditional loveliness. 

Ha. Let go or be dragged. 


A photo was shared of us via Facebook messenger, together in Rome, at  the Colloseum on a scorching hot summer day. You were squeezing me around my shoulders; I was wrapping what I could wrap of my petite frame around your massive body. Ex-high school football and basketball player, at six feet three you stood, and I liked it; it felt right, even when I look at the photo now, it’s comforting to look at. One of those photos you share 15 years from now, at a ski trip with all your best buddies, you know?

We had met at the university’s bar kitchen we worked at together. You were upgrading a few classes to become an engineer, I was in my last year of journalism. I was a mere dishwasher/prep cook, our boss was a filthy piece of shit, you just stared at me, with no words, and then the words came, and then we made out in the kitchen when nobody was looking, and then we stayed up until 3 am watching Scorsese movies and I made dinner for you, that one time…and you said something like nobody had ever made dinner for you before aside from your mom. She had passed when you were 15 and I could feel your pain. I told you about my tough year, you listened, you wanted to take care of me. Little did I know I needed to take care of me first as I was pretty burnt out from my last five years of university. I had no job lined up, just Europe to clear my head. And then you came along. And we fought a lot because we weren’t ready. For the longest time I had kept the darkest memories of that trip, but in hindsight, the positive ones should be held on to.

I’ll never forget those simple little memories of you and me in your apartment on second street, right by Model Milk, where you worked for a bit, and then it was Clive Burger for a summer…I was only 23. You were 25. I will be 28 this year. You will be 30… Time flies and then we look back and don’t realize how much time has already passed.

We reached out to each other in September. It had been five whole years…never too late for closure, I guess. It takes a while for people to see clearly, to realize what the other person meant to you…I know you meant a great lot to me.

That September, we exchanged words of kindness; “you left a big impression on me”, you said. You left a big impression on me too, I said back. And then you said something like “I saw you with what looked like a boyfriend two years ago. You looked happy.” Little does he know that I haven’t been seeing anyone recently but he doesn’t need to know; it might shatter his illusion of my happiness. But I am happy, and we talked, and I’m not crazy: we both cared for each other and got hurt and, that’s all I needed to know. We were each others’ stepping stone for a little while, and now we’re skipping to new stones and I’m OK with that.

He Said to Me Once…Real-life love-inspired exchanges to lift your spirits, get you in a creative mood and feel fearless and free

Disclaimer: Although at the time, these introspective, love-inspired, and sometimes visually intense and hilarious exchanges, felt very real and warm, I’ve learnt to realize that, even what appears to be the deepest connections through intellect, ideas and values do not necessarily blossom into fully-fledged romances. For one, we didn’t live in the same country, for second, we had only met once prior, and for three,  I’m a dreamer and idealist with unrealistic high standards and a gullible marshmallow heart.

Let me tell you what it brought to my life instead:

hope that there are people out there that GET me and know what STIMULATES my brain. That people can still access “deep” and are unafraid of “deep”; that I can connect with another human being on a level beyond the superficial.

insight on the relationship I was in at the time. I was in my rental car in Nanaimo, getting ready to drive to Tofino, where I had rented a tiny house cabin for the week, when my boyfriend of a few weeks texted me. “I love you,” it read. I froze and drove away without responding back. The words hit me like a brick … and I was 1000 km away…

creativity. Engaging conversation and colourful writing bring me to life. I spent one of the best weeks of my life, completely alone on the island, and yet, I felt whole and full of hope for the future, inspiration and creativity. And I mean, come on, the dude’s got some pretty vivid imagination!

urgency. It made me realize how absurd it is to be weighed down by things we don’t enjoy in life. Live your life now, life is so short, don’t waste it.

“Maybe we’ve done this before, fell in love half a century ago when the world was one long driveway & we lived in a spindly tree’d neighbourhood in a small house where you curled into me naked on L-shaped sofas under a thousand throw blankets listening to nothing but the refrigerator & crickets doing calm little prayers outside, kissing each other & moving your hips in tiny little circles as you press your ass against me”

“Mmm…kissing. Kissing’s always good. I laughed at the precision of ‘L-shaped’ sofas. Haha, you’re great.”

“Yes, eating avocados & wearing heavy cottons in the kitchen & making out & saying drunk things to each other, smiling”

“You win at the smiling. I’m smiling right now.”

“I get swept away thinking about other stories we’ve lived, none of it seems long enough, I think maybe people that fall in love deeply enough bury time capsules in each other’s hearts”

“I believe it. Nothing else really makes sense and this does. Crazy how things go…”

“Love is such a wildly possessing thing & it’s odd & beautiful & stirs so deep in us & it’s crushing & intensely felt & deeply spiritual. When you roll deep on every level with someone, it starts to reframe everything you look at. Yes, Crazy”

“It’s actually my biggest life debate right now. I don’t know if I’ve been in love. Every relationship I’ve ever been in never felt mad and passionate….I feel like that’s how it should be but it’s always been practical and easy. I don’t want easy. I want real, intense and crazy…something that makes sense but none whatsoever at the same time. I’ve been with some great men, but somehow, there’s always been something missing…like my mind was elsewhere…keeps me awake at time, thinking there must be something wrong with me. There’s something bigger out there than relationships and ‘settling down’ and routine. Routine is men’s worst enemy. It lulls us to sleep. I crave the unknown. I’m rambling…I just got back from vacation from one of the most beautiful places in Canada and I’m already craving another adventure.”

“You’re not rambling & nothing’s wrong with you. You’re looking for something deeper. Some people call the wild out of us. People with stars & wandering & fire brimming in their eyes. People who realize how little time we have & so we might as well makes a mess of it. 

A man should look at you like you’re lighting brimming in him, like a saliva oasis in the corner of your bedroom at night, tips of your eyelashes, tongues, wishing there were stars on your ceiling and your eyes are little curly seahorses lit up & swimming at me. I mean, you could go to dinner somewhere & sit & smile across the table at someone & make clever conversation & probably manage to have a really good time. But there’s so much more to be discovered & felt in someone else than a gorgeous smile & clever words. You could sit at the same table with me and feel neon layers of music pour over you & stare at me like we’re dancing and chewing on glow sticks at the bottom of your soul together and our hands and eyes are having affairs and our toothbrushes are at home undressing each other on porcelain squares and you can feel my atoms coming at you across the room”

“It’s true. There’s little time. We don’t have forever. Being aware of that is freeing…like there is no other way than live your life YOUR way. People  are so caught up in societal norms, what is wrong from what is right.