Category: travel

slept in

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Until EIGHT. In the AM!

Crazy, right?

I haven’t had more than about six or seven hours of sleep in months, without being ill.

Of course, I’m ill today, but fuck it. I am using this downtime to push forward hard on the things that I love – writing, reading, comics, with a side of meditation, exercise, cooking and music.

That’s pretty much the sum total, although I think travel, sex, video games, and various other sundry storytelling mediums also play a part.

What else could you possibly need? A greater purpose? People who love you? Righteous vengeance?

I don’t know, but I’m feeling better, anyway.

Still sick, but hell if I couldn’t use eight to ten hours every night.

Target: 1000 words
Written: 2575 words, comic: Western Cradle #2

Read: The Autobiography Of Malcolm X, Malcolm X/Alex Haley
Comics: Preacher: Saint Of Killers 1-2, Preacher 17-18
Music: Nowhere Generation I & II, Rise Against

i get it; i’m late

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For all the things I wanted to do with my life, I probably would have had to have started as a teenager.

Unfortunately, the lessons I needed to learn, the skills I had to grow (and am still growing), the mindset, the life experience, all that stuff… it unfolded a little slower than it probably should have.

Maybe I could have gone a more traditional route, and maybe I could have been content with that, but when have I ever been content with anything? In the moment, I can be, in the midst of a good meal or a great book or great sex, a nice moment in the sun while walking the dogs.

But isn’t that the only time ever?

I know it will take me probably until I’m a hundred and no longer able to function physically or mentally to do the work that I want to do, to see the places I wanted to see, to have all the experiences I’ve desired.

I probably won’t make it, barring terrific medical advances. Of course, I could live that long but the growing spectre of fascism, the threat of climate change, bigotry and hatred, the complete breakdown of both civility and the willingness to stand up for what is right, in action more than words, is likely to end this planet (or at least my life or the ability to do the things I desire to do), all that pretty well guarantees that this is a fool’s errand.

But what’s the alternative?

Giving up?

I know I’m a late bloomer, but hell. Fuck it.

There’s no do-overs, so it’s now or never, and if I die in the attempt, without making the impact I would have liked, well, there’s no shame in trying.

Only in giving up.

Target: 1000 words
Written: 1479 words, short story: Late Riser

Read: The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho (also, this has nothing to do with this book, it was garbage, like Eckhart Tolle fucked Hans Christian Andersen and their baby read The Secret on the way out - stuff like this is why people get stuck in their own heads thinking they just have think things into existence, or that all skill is just natural, instead doing the fucking work.)
Comics: Chew 42-44, Chew: Warrior Chicken Poyo (POYO!) 1
Music: No!, They Might Be Giants

i think i’d like to walk

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I almost misspelled that as talk. Freudian slip, anyone?

But I do mean walk. I’d like to throw some shit on, grab the only things important to me, and just start walking.

Just. Gone. Tramping down foreign roads with a backpack and a laptop, a Kindle full of books.

In peace. Listening to the birds sing.

Praying for nature to remain unsavage.

It’s savage enough out here.

Target: 900 words
Written: 466 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: The Shining, Stephen King
Comics: 100 Bullets 65-68
Music: Never Surrender (From Kickboxer), Stan Bush (if this is the best you got, surrender, immediately, because you suck)

return from blue mountain

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Sounds like a cheesy Eighties find yourself adventure or maybe even a horror movie, where the kind of geeky lost soul goes somewhere, has an adventure, realizes it was all bullshit, and then comes back to sweep the girl of his dreams off her feet.

You know, the girl he’s only ever really known in passing, and who, in reality, would never date this guy who comes out of nowhere with his newfound perspective on life, all based around love (love he has for her, but she’s never really thought about him; she’s too busy diddling over the football star).

He’d have had some partying fun, met a girl who was maybe manipulative, but who would have taken him through his first real sexual experiences, but then betrayed him unexpectedly, making him realize he didn’t actually want what he thought he wanted, and so, he comes down the mountain, proposes to the girl, who is (because this is all about him and not her) expected to swoon and drop everything to be with this brand new bodhisattva/reformed bad boy, because love, and we all jump onboard and presume happily ever after, but really, what do these people even know about each other?

There’s likely some gratuitous nudity, because in this world, women are objects, not people, so making lewd jokes at their expense and paying some struggling actress to doff her top (and probably threaten that she’ll never work again if she doesn’t, or promise that the big studios will come running, and other big stars did it, and also, other stuff, behind the scenes, you know how it works, wink wink nudge nudge), and we’re all just fine with it because we love sexual freedom (which we do), but we also love the exploitation of women as a secondary class, and if we can combine the two… Hollywood!

Anyway, we’re back from Collingwood, and let’s hope that movie never gets made.

It sounds positively horrid.

Target: 900 words
Written: 247 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Gregor And The Curse Of The Warmbloods
Comics: The Wicked + The Divine: 455 AD 1, The Wicked + The Divine 29-31
Music: Urban Hymns, The Verve (one of my all-time favourite albums... simply one of the best)

beginning/end

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Still in Collingwood, but having changed work spaces, I’ve decided even more needs to change, including the prologue and epilogue to The Mungk.

All new!

More story!

More intelligent beginnings and endings!

Maybe probably cut entirely!

Who knows!

Find out for yourself, whenever the final version comes out (and you steal all my notes so you know the difference)!

Target: 900 words
Written: 481 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Gregor And The Curse Of The Warmbloods
Comics: The Wicked + The Divine 25-28
Music: Uptown Special, Mark Ronson

collingwood

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Decided to go to Collingwood for the weekend. Seemed like a good place to get away and finish that eighth draft.

So far, so good, in that the eighth draft is complete.

Target: 900 words
Written: 531 words

Read: The Happiness Of Pursuit, Chris Guillebeau
Comics: The Wicked + The Divine 22-24, The Wicked + The Divine: 1831 1
Music: Uptown Avondale, The Afghan Whigs

porch morning

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The last couple of days have been nice. Sunlight filtering in through the spider plants and and aloe, turning Mazy’s hair even more golden, somehow. It’s nice in the silence.

Then, of course, other people, dogs barking, cats freaking out and an inability to reach my coffee.

Still, all things considered… this or a war zone, it’s no contest.

I am not bereft of peace.

Target: 800 words
Written: 621 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Grimm's Fairy Tales, Bros Grimm
Comics: The Me You Love In The Dark 5, Image! 1-2, Twig 1
Music: Live!  The Ramones!  Woo!

not one second

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Of course not. A week off, spent in a remote part of Ontario where relaxation should be the order of the day?

Not one second free.

Return home, with a day in between, so that we can decompress and get refocused for the return to work and drudgery?

Not one second free.

Not. Fucking. One.

I need a vacation from life.

Target: 800 words
Written: 1184 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Brothers Of Earth, CJ Cherryh
Comics: The Crow: Hark The Herald 1, The Crow: Lethe 1 (thank god after this they took it away from Seeley - Hack/Slash keeps inserting itself into my favourite books and it's annoying because he doesn't understand the characters he's borrowing)
Music: Rando Covers, Electric Frankenstein, Guns 'n' Roses

the long drive home

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I’m going to miss it up there; I think it might be a final residence for me, if ever I can get to a level of independent wealth to be able to leave this situation.

My family may not relocate and what family I have there will probably be long gone by the time I get up there.

Hell, Torontonians will probably have invaded the place and ruined it, as they do with pretty much everything. Fucking Torontonians and their goddamn egos.

The older I get, the more I take issue with the presumed fact that cities are somehow more actually enlightened and their residents automatically better people than everyone else. The older I get, all I see is a sense of false superiority and unearned entitlement, over a desperate and sad posturing over status and cool.

How terribly boring cities must be, with their cookie cutter nervousness and template anxiety. Give me the calm and cruel quietude of nature any day. No bullshit in nature; only peace.

So, naturally, we’re killing it.

Everything humans touch dies.

Target: 800 words
Written: 483 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Brothers Of Earth, CJ Cherryh
Comics: The Crow / Hack/Slash 1-4 (ugh, I hate it when writers don't understand characters, and use them to push their own uninspired creations)
Music: Random Covers - Anti-Flag, CKY

return from deep water

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Would that I’d left myself in that water, feeling the cool glacial water lake seep into my bones, weighing me down and slowing pulling me into its depths.

I’ve never loved more and felt more torn away.

Interfered with.

Where is the peace that vacation used to be?

Where are the satoris, the relaxation that comes with not really having anything do in a lovely situation?

The afterglow?

Where’s my goddamned afterglow?

Target: 800 words
Written: 629 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Brothers Of Earth, CJ Cherryh
Comics: The Crow: Memento Mori 1-4
Music: Lust For Life, Iggy Pop/David Bowie