Justification

This series of posts took a huge toll on me emotionally, to say the least. you bastards better appreciate it, :) just joking. it really questioned my reason to have a blog. why am i doing this? why am i letting everyone read my most intimate and personal moments/experiences? i don't know, probably attention, most definitely, attention. my 180 degree turn from introvert to extrovert. my new sick addiction for praise and sympathy and empathy and recognition. self indulgence.

i hope it wasn't all just sap and no substance. i hope i actually expressed lessons to be learned instead of just pulling strings. i hope i helped instead of just extracting tears.

everything i've written and will write is fact as i observe it to be, as i want it to be, as i hope it to be, as i wish it not to be, as i remember it to be, as i see. the term "fact", i guess, is one used loosely here.

i like making web posts with beautiful pictures as opposed to scribbling almost un -readable chicken scratch in my notebook. i'll take this bridge to thank gurpaul (above) and rachel (below) for their amazing pictures by the way. most of the recent ones are their work. i'm going to try to keep it that way. so if you know either of them, encourage them to keep shooting and even more so to keep posting so i can steal them.

again thanks to all the readers. i'm going to try to make sure there is no sap for at least awhile but this february, you will be reading the words of my grandfather and not mine. so it's his fault now, if you want to blame someone.

spring is around the corner!

It's Evolution, Baby! Part 4: The Ocean

My friend ricky died. this is the first time i've mentioned his passing using the verb "die". it feels out of place, it feels non-existent, it feels utterly depressing, it feels like anguish, it represents how i feel.

he was about the most honest and true person i ever met. i met him in grade 6 at richardson elementary, he lived down the street from me. ricky and i would become great friends. our friendship took turns away and towards each other, the last turn was towards. you'll read the complete story come august.

ricky told me he had cancer. i didn't cry, the future was bright, months past... HE BEAT IT!... so we thought... it came back and spread faster and further than before. ricky gave me the details, crying was no longer avoidable. of course, i hid this from him but i cried. i cried endlessly it seemed. especially after reading the last message i got from him. it was a morbid message. not the words, but the vibe was very "un-ricky", it was as if to say, "i'm not here much longer". he said things like, "i'm going to live life to the fullest", "there's nothing they can do". enough to let me know what i feared most was around the corner. he never talked like this before. the tears came almost instantly after reading that message. it's burned into my memory, all the booze and drugs in the world can't erase it. it ate away at my heart slowly like a caterpillar on a leaf. tiny bites awaiting the finish of the meal. dare i say, get it over with.

it was over with.

i was woken up by a phone call to tell me the morning after the fact. it was sooner than i could've imagined. the word "imagine" seems out of place.

"don't drink", i've heard this voice before. i drank. a little bit, over a of lot of hours. i was bludgeoned with reminders of how not to deal. i took the blows as advice rather than threats and it worked out. i hung out with friends that didn't know rick that well except for a mutual best friend. we casually and slowly drank. we went to the beach upon my request. i found a place of solace and contemplation. my friends talked and laughed and had a good time around me. i was distant but grateful for the company as they were for mine.

i stared at the waves, at the ships and boats, at the clouds, at the sun, at the logs, at the sand, at the kids, at the people, at the colours, at my shoes, at myself through glossy eyes. all the while listening to that blessed busker with his harmonica and guitar cooing the most heavenly, heartfelt bluegrass i've ever heard (my condition might've exaggerated this)... i was at peace.

at peace, i felt at peace. it was the most peaceful day of my entire life. there was anger but it wasn't misplaced, it was in place. it faded, it had no choice but to do so. i took my last brush with anger as a reminder to let it fade, let it go. it left, sadness stayed without anger by its side. peace. peace ensued. peace will forever stay me, i will forever stay peace. peace is all i want. peace is all i'll get.

peace.

that's evolution, baby!

It's Evolution, Baby! Part 3: The Rage

My grandfather passed away. (you'll learn more about him in about a couple of weeks. february will be dedicated to him.) surely by now you realize that i loved no one more than my grandparents. they were my heart and soul. they did more for me in becoming a human being in 3 years than anyone else has in my lifetime. i'm sure being at an impressionable age has something to do with it but there's a lot more to it. not to take anything away from my mother but our relationship was and is very different. i'm secretive with her and keep her at a distance. i don't know why, it's just comfortable for me this way but not for her. my father was never really around.


i wasn't sure how i was feeling. he was old and i knew it was coming but that didn't make a difference. i started listening to radiohead. their music usually helps me think things through a little better. i find it to be very soothing and calming. i made a couple of phone calls to some friends, actually i think i might've texted them. that day was mostly a blur but i'll never forget it. it will forever live in infamy in my conscience as a reminder of how not to deal.

i was sitting there with my laptop listening away when the sharpest, thinnest sword pierced my chest ever so slowly as thom so softly sang, "in a little while i'll be gone, the moment's already passed, yeah, it's gone, i'm not here, this isn't happening". they're BOTH GONE! i listened to it repeatedly letting it sink in. already one of my favourite songs, that day "how to disappear completely" took a whole new meaning.

"don't drink, don't drink, don't drink" ran through my mind for about 15 minutes before i realized i was walking to the liquor store in the middle of the day. i was able to wait till i got home to crack that mickey of vodka but i downed it in less than an hour. i sank into this weird state of melancholic, alcohol infused euphoria. i was smiling but the sadness was turning into rage in my mind. i could feel the violence brewing in my head. i was trying to suppress it and i did for a little while but i didn't stop drinking. the violence came out, so i'm told by friends. they didn't hold back in telling me what a sorry display it was. i burned bridges with damn near everyone. they forgave me of course but with contempt. i came home broke things, threw things, punched things. scared the living shit out of the people that love me the most. i have a scar down my middle finger on my right hand which is a constant physical reminder of how not to deal.

it was shameful to say the least. i wish i wasn't there, i wish it never happened.

It's Evolution, Baby! Part 2: The Lottery

I was told i had cancer.

one day i came home after work and my mom asked why there was a huge bulge sticking out of my neck. i had no reply because i was oblivious to it. i went to the walk-in. they told me to go to the emergency. emergency took blood and said they would only call if something was wrong. i never received a phone call. my family doctor thought it was a cyst. she sent me to a specialist. he put tubes up my nose and down my throat. i had to have a biopsy. i was on the gurney waiting to be cut open. i quickly took a peek at the clipboard on the foot of my gurney. "probable hodgkins". i had surgery. i woke up much later in a room with a nurse. she was very friendly. i was very happy due to the drugs. i asked her what hodgkins was. i already knew it was a type of cancer. she ignored the question, she looked towards her feet almost instantly, her face changed from a smile to a sombre expression. she changed the subject, she offered me apple juice. i took it. right then and there i confirmed my very strong suspicion of cancer.

i had an appointment with the guy who cut my neck open for the results. i knew i had cancer. he told me i had cancer. even though i figured out for myself that i had cancer, i was unbelievably shocked and mortified. i walked. i cried during that walk. i thought i was going to die.

from the moment of the first observation of the tumor by my mom till the confirmation of cancer, almost 3 weeks had past. within this time, in fact, my first guess was cancer. for almost 3 weeks i figured i was going to die of cancer. i knew it. i was almost glad. goodbye cruel world. when it was officially confirmed, everything changed within an instant. i don't want to die. i'm going to die. the gosal family helped me beyond measure. they were the first to know because the doctor's office was close to their house. i would sleep there for the next 3 days. my cousin told me of their grandmother who was diagnosed with cancer at her age, somewhere in her 70s - 80s and she beat it. i was surely better equipped physically than her to beat it. my cousin told me to look it up on the net. i could care less. fuck it.

i would meet my oncologist a couple of weeks later. he told me it was like winning a lottery. it appeared just because. genetics is the only thing to link it to. i have not met one person who doesn't know someone else effected by cancer. he told me my cancer had a 90 something percent success rate. i was a little bummed about that. the cancer by now had been fully spread, full blown throughout my lymph nodes. i had a bone marrow biopsy because that was where the cancer would go next to spread further. this would mean that 90 something percent would decline by a huge number. it didn't.

i made amends with it. i was somewhat content. i did a bit over 6 months of chemotherapy. i did a month of radiation. i did some serious time on the couch. i felt like shit a lot more than i ever felt ok. my hair thinned considerably. i eventually went bald. i had constant canker sores. i had pins and needles in my fingertips for the entire 6 months of chemo. my taste buds were shot. everything tasted like cardboard for 7 months. food was disgusting, even pizza. i never had energy. i felt sick all the time. i slept a lot.

i still went out every now and then. people cried for me. people told me they loved me. people didn't know what to do or say. people deteriorated in front of me. people noticed me. i told people i was fine. that was not a lie. i comforted people. i accepted people.

i didn't go through a life changing spiritual awakening. i didn't change much at all. i grew more compassionate. i grew more attentive. i grew aloof. i grew my hair back. i grew.

at that time in my life i didn't feel i won the lottery. i do now.

It's Evolution, Baby! Part 1: The Transplant

In honour of the new year i'm going to share with you my evolution in a 4 part series filling the month of january. a way to celebrate 2010 and new beginnings.


3 devastating events have defined me. the outcome of these 3 events subsequently made the 4th and most devastating of them all become the least detrimental to my physical and mental health. if not for the early 3, i honestly believe the 4th would've left me blind, numb and dumb. thankfully i evolved.

My parents got divorced when i was fairly young, about 7-8ish. I saw and heard things, children really shouldn't. it was confusing. it was bad. i realized much later that the divorce was definitely for the better but at that time i wanted nothing more than for them to stay together as would any child. memory and privacy and fear of seeming to lay blames is stopping me from elaborating further on this, so i'll move on.

needless to say i was heartbroken and scared as hell. i became heavily introverted as i was a shy kid to begin with. i was never that kid that went running into the hands of adults. once i was comfortable with you, though, i would be pretty hard to shut up. i stayed this way well into high school but a slow transition took place into the extrovert and somewhat exhibitionist i am today. my mother was always hell bent on sending me to counsellors, they never got anything out of me. i just didn't want to talk.

my brother and i were then shipped off to india to live with my father's parents. i still don't know for sure but i'm assuming it was to protect us from the messy divorce and also spend quality time with our dying grandmother (which everyone but my brother and i knew about). this turned out to be the most valuable experience of my lifetime. i lived there for 3 years. the last 1 being spent at a boarding school. the thing that hit me the most and right away was the poverty in india. nothing like orphans with missing limbs and dirt caked faces, begging for change to make you feel lucky. the affect of which sticks with me to this day and i'm sure will not leave me for the rest of my life.

not only did i learn to be grateful but also i now gained 24 hour access to my brilliant grandfather and my ever loving, sweet grandmother. my grandmother was adored by the entire neighborhood and was called "biji", an indian nickname for grandma, by everyone including those around her age. she was very kind and was rewarded for it by the neighbors with their constant help and support at the drop of a dime. sometimes the house would be full of women from around the neighborhood, helping with chores and meals when my grandmother's painful fits got really bad. she had breast cancer, by the way, i forgot to mention and she lived with it for over 20 years. (it wouldn't occur to me until after her death when i was told of what was going on that she didn't have breasts, they had to be cut off) while all this went on my brother and i were kept in the dark. we knew she would get "sick" but that's about the only thing anyone told us. "she has a headache" was the most common explanation. my grandmother taught me a thing or two of community, kindness, patience and real, unconditional love towards mankind. i can keep going on about the life lessons in india that i came back with but we don't have all day and some will be talked about in more detail in the future.

back to canada. i came back hoping my parents worked things out. and truthfully, they tried. we lived together as a family for a few months upon our arrival even though they slept in different rooms. they gave it a shot, it didn't work, i accepted it. it made more sense. my pre mature maturation from the experience in india gave me the foresight to realize somethings just can't be and are better for it. at this point i was in my pre-teens and still introverted but somewhat content. having to adjust to what felt like a new lifestyle but in a familiar way was more of an obstacle. my mom still obsessed with me seeing a counsellor. i didn't talk.

a couple of years later, my grandma called. my brother and i still in the dark, wouldn't know until later that that phone call was her swan song. i can still hear her voice and i'm terrified of forgetting it. she sounded full of life.