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

last day in paradise

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Took a trip up to Haileybury, just for giggles and beer.

Not that we were booze cruising. I’m just an aficionado of food and drink, from greasy spoon to Michelin star, from lagers to merlot and back again to scotch and cigars.

I don’t know why. I know it’s all bad for you.

But not in moderation.

And in moderation, we do fine.

Of course, kimchi burger, a stout and later, a bison burger and an IPA may not be the moderation we seek.

Oh, well.

It could also be the coward’s method of self-harm. A slow motion death, in concert with the rest of the planet.

Anyway, it has been beautiful here, despite the family fights, the neighbour fights, the complete lack of downtime or quiet moments to read more than a handful of pages and constant activity in our cabin.

I want to walk into the woods and stay there, but I am ill prepared. I am no outdoorsman.

I wouldn’t last ten minutes.

Target: 800 words
Written: 865 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Brothers Of Earth, CJ Cherryh
Comics: The Crow: Pestilence 1-4
Music: Random Music, again - Pearl Jam, The Rolling Stones, Todd Snider, Spacehog

morbid wonder

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I suppose I’m giving the impression that I’m suicidal. I’m not, not really. I’ve too much I’ve not done in this life yet for that, though the depression’s relentless attacks on my ability to do any of it is wearing on me.

So, in that sense, yeah, maybe. There’s a lot of the time where giving up, half-assing it, letting go of any sort of potential for joy, all seems like the best path forward.

Sinking into mediocrity, a sort of mind-numbed endurance, its own special skill, though any and most of us have mastered it.

It’s called “waiting to die”.

Coming up here reminds me there is more to this world than our petty differences, our pointless bullshit.

There’s more than in-fighting.

There’s wonder.

One look at that sky, graded robin’s egg to to royal blue, stroked with tender brushes of clouds and one can’t help but be reminded: religion may be a fiction, but there is still a sense of the divine.

Of majesty and beauty, grandeur.

Holiness.

It has nothing to do with little men in the sky and everything to do with the sheer vastness of what’s beyond our own meager skulls.

It could be so easy to give it all up.

But then what?

Target: 800 words
Written: 584 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Brothers Of Earth, CJ Cherryh
Comics: The Crow: Skinning The Wolves 3, The Crow: Curare 1-3
Music: More Random Songs - Julian Plenti, Linkin Park, McCoy Brothers, Misfits, Overflow

glacial

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Despite the fact that it’s eminently swimmable, there’s a glacial tinge to the waters up here that feeds something primal inside me.

I feel like it’s recharging. Connecting.

Communing, even.

I spent most of our trip on the pontoon boat thinking about sinking to the bottom and laying for a while.

I’d like it to be my final resting place. Not rotting in the woods (although maybe rotting in the woods).

But frozen, down there.

Waiting.

Target: 800 words
Written: 784 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Brothers Of Earth, CJ Cherryh (so slow going and not because it's not good; no one will leave me alone to read more than a page or two)
Comics: The Crow: Death And Rebirth 4-5, The Crow: Skinning The Wolves 1-2
Music: Random Shit - Ben Harper, Anti-Flag, Green Day, Gnarkill, Guns 'n' Roses

tranquility base

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My uncle has a secret place in the woods.

It’s just off Cassel Lake (or Castle, I didn’t look it up), but he plans to die there.

I mean, he’s hardly suicidal, but he’s told his family that when he goes, that’s where it will be.

Feet kicked up on the little wooden table, arms folded, a coffee cup of camp brew nearby.

Sixty-year old tent behind him.

He took us there.

It’s the most peaceful place I’ve ever been.

I’m considering following in his footsteps.

Target: 800 words
Written: 1322 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Brothers Of Earth, CJ Cherryh
Comics: The Crow v2 10, The Crow: Death And Rebirth 1-3
Music: Random Acoustic Stuff, Screaming Trees, Anti-Flag, Linkin Park

fire tower

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I couldn’t do it. Didn’t even try it. With my blood pressure being so out of whack and my concerns of having a stroke partway up, I chose not to climb to the top of the fire tower, as in years past. The goal, hopefully, is next year.

Perhaps, if I lose another dozen pounds and get back to the weight I was when I did it the last time, maybe there’s a shot.

I don’t need the aneurysm.

I don’t need the heart attack.

I don’t need the stress of forcing myself to do something that could kill me with no appreciable gain.

I just need to be in the outdoors, in love.

Target: 800 words
Written: 546 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Brothers Of Earth, C.J. Cherryh
Comics: The Crow v2 6-9
Music: Universally Speaking, Red Hot Chili Peppers

morning walks

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There’s something glorious about the Canadian Shield.

It seems almost immovable, grand on a scale that begs one to try and change it, but change it one cannot. Only in the most meager of ways.

It feels like a piece of me. It feels like home. Hard, but teeming with life. Gentle, but dangerous.

Unexpected depths. Untapped resources.

Like a good Canadian should be.

Target: 800 words
Written: 614 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Brothers Of Earth, C.J. Cherryh
Comics: The Crow v2 2-5
Music: The Universal (I and II), Blur

temagami

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Today, I return to the motherland, children and dogs in tow.

I can’t wait. I need to reconnect.

Target: 800 words
Written: 600 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Brothers Of Earth, CJ Cherryh
Comics: The Crow/Razor: Kill The Pain 0, Final, Lost Chapter, The Crow v2 1
Music: Unintended, Pt 1 & 2, Muse

dogsittin’ 2

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Part of me thinks I should call in sick. Part of me would be glad to be away from the dogs for a bit.

But we’re leaving tomorrow, for a week, and I have shit to do.

Neither dogs nor work can stop me.

But they can sure slow me down, and turn the whole process into a zoo in the meanwhile.

Target: 800 words
Written: 1616 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: The Adventures Of Captain Hatteras, Jules Verne
Comics: The Crow/Razor: Kill The Pain 1-4
Music: The Unforgettable Fire, U2