The nature of Love

I never really knew what love was, not that my parents -or any person of significant relation- never showed me affection, but love never seems to appear clearly in my mind, in any circumstance.

I don't believe I'm uncaring, or cold: I can recognize hate, lust, jealousy, compassion and every other human feeling in a clear manner. Love is something I never felt directly, if there is any such way.

Even when I went out with a girlfriend, the love never showed itself. I felt attraction, but my conception of love never materialized itself during the relationship. That's maybe why the relationships never lasted very long, hehe.

Maybe love is like that for everyone, but who knows. The emotions that jazz instills me is the closest thing that I can relate to love: the feeling of detachment to anything except the moment, the color of the music, the notes that intertwine each other until they become one flowing feeling of another conception of time.

Maybe the only thing I ever loved was the Conception of Jazz, and if so, I guess I'm screwed as far as the idea of starting a family is concerned.

Guilt, regret, trust and forgiveness.

Got healthy again a couple of days ago, had a weird combination of viruses, a double-hit. Didn't last very long. Back to reading.

Guilt and regret, what do they imply? Regret implies you question an action, to the point of wishing you hadn't done it. In the instance someone does wrong to you, up to when are they guilty ? Guilt in the sense of punishment, not in someone's own feeling of guilt. What kind of actions need punishment as retribution? The legislation believes punishment should ensue if a human being does an action that is detrimental to another human being while the guilty party is fully aware of what they're doing, i.e. Murder vs Manslaughter. But, do criminals question themselves about their behaviour after their actions? Maybe that's why some criminals never regret an action, because they never questionned themselves, due to various reasons, most of which I will never understand in this world.

And what about lesser wrongdoings? If a person I was briefly aquainted to hurts me, in whatever way hurt can be perceived, does it have the same weight compared to a close family member, or a spouse? Then maybe we have to introduce the whole aspect of trust in this. We trust someone until it is broken, and when it is broken, the perpetrator and the victim (used loosely) are distanced, for a while, until they meet and exchange. That is inevitable if progression is to be made for both parties. Trust is a valuable essence, one we play with and toy around because we can. Until trust is broken, it never shines its true colors. That is maybe why family members trust each other; because their trust has been tested many times.

The relationshipes we wish to keep are the strongest ones: we work to make them work. But sometimes it is very hard to rekindle trust, or simply love, in a relationship. Then comes another human essence, forgiveness. To a stranger that looks at us the wrong way, we walk away, but to a spouse that hits us every time he hits the bottle, or whatever God-damned reason someone might let themselves be illusionned with, we effortlessly try to make everything alright again. There are relationships that will not work, and some that will never stop growing, but the words of my best friend Martin has always been true, in my estimation and understanding:

The meaning of forgiveness is not necessarily to forget about another person's
misdeeds, or to ignore something, to rationalize. It means to forget about
another tomorrow, a tomorrow that might've been, a better tomorrow.

We have to swallow it, and let it go. It's hella hard, but if we keep onto something, it'll never leave.

Death and burial

Stephen King writes in the beginning of one of his bestsellers:

"Here are some people who have written books, telling what they did and why they did those things:

John Dean. Henry Kissinger. Adolph Hitler.Caryl Chessman. Jeb Magruder. Napoleon. Talleyrand. Disraeli. Robert Zimmerman, also known as Bob Dylan. Locke. Charlton Heston. Errol Flynn. The Ayatollah Khomeini. Gandhi. Charles Olson. Charles Colson. A Victorian Gentleman. Dr.X.

Most people also believe that God has written a Book, or books, telling what He did and why–at least to a degree–He did those things, and since most of these people also believe that humans were made in the image of God, then He also may be regarded as a person...or, more properly, as a Person.

Here are some people who have not written books, telling what they did...and what they saw:

The man who buried Hitler. The man who performed the autopsy on John Wilkes Booth. The man who embalmed Elvis Presley. The man who embalmed–badly, most undertakers say–Pope John XXIII. The twoscore undertakers who cleaned up Jonestown, carrying body bags, spearing paper cups with those spikes custodians carry in city parks, waving away the flies. Then man who cremated William Holden. The man who encased the body of Alexander the Great in gold so it would not rot. The men who mummified the Pharaohs.

Death is a mystery, and burial is a secret."

First session KO

Alright so I'm done with the first session. Yay.

Been working on the basement for a while, drywalling and suspended ceiling and whatnot. Yesterday was Christmas, had a bunch of relatives come over and ate a lot. Great, I got to talk a lot about everything AND I pigged out on turkey. Reading Lord Jim and Dispatch, two great books.

The sun still shines.

Sleep.

End of session rush...Zzz...

Back Home

Back home, where the early sun shines through soft mist, where the sea smiles with wind and sand, where rain gently laps over emerald leaves, where small animals whisper hidden words to each other, where the waiting dog pensively smells the air, colors, smells and sounds are reborn. What was once color becomes evermore colorful, mocking it's predecessor, and every sense tingles with newfound love. The cat, slit for eyes, purrs on the chair, while birds call out outside for one another. Mice slip by hawks, and fate is suspended. The unescapable sleeps while life takes a leap; the silky valleys, aglow in morning sunrise, awake gently. Men and Women lie in bed, the soft steel-gray moment is stolen away into the innermost fold of Humanity's soul. For a moment, life is a perfect harmony of senses but not even Jealousy, the worst counsel and the most seductive temptress , can disrupt it.

The Sound of Laughter

Funny how laughing really kicks you up a notch. I was talking with Neroli today, and I felt so happy I couldn't help myself from laughing. I was having a pretty bad week, what with end of session rushing...She's pretty nice, but I don't know how I'll handle it with the Tunisian girl and the Brunette. I mean, last time I was dancing with three girls (which was not a long time ago...do men ever learn?) it didn't work. Of course, by dancing, I mean nothing close to commitment. I'm all for commitment, but not with three different women at the same time. I mean, think of the jeweller's bill! Egads! Last time I spent something on my girlfriend, it ended up costing me a sizeable fortune (for a teenager) in one night, (including an eighteen carat gold necklace...), not that I care about money.

The mist falls on Quebec city, the French valley. It sprays a fine blue tint on the buildings downtown. People look, as I look, at the painting etched on the dying day's face. Miles Davis' Flamenco Sketches come to mind; life takes a break. A few people linger on their doorsteps, watching the sun burn a trace on the naked trees. On the balconies, high up, young women look through gentle glass, with pensive eyes, at the coming calm. Young men, their jest stolen, stand with hands in their pockets; eyes with a grin at the future. For once, people are happy. Some even smile. The departed once again become dear. Babies make small soft laughs in their parents' arms; the birds of Autumn glisten in love and adoration of the musical northern winds .

The cigarettes burn themselves off, slowly, in their owner's hands. Then suddenly, twillight, and no more.

Argh!!

Two perfect blogs that couldn't be posted because of freaking network lag... I'll try again later.

The Radioroom

The radio room is very nice, at my college. It's dark, with only a few old lamps in the corners. The walls are wheat-colored with a dark green ceiling. I walked in to lend a few CDs from artists I'd offered to share. The room had a combination of smells that were quite peculiar, like hashish and pot at the same time. It's a given they smoke something, what with them constantly playing The Doors or Yes. Don't get me wrong, I love those bands, it's just I like to listen to them without having to look at my hands every 5 minutes.

I wrestled with some programming with one of the computers at the college today. Computers are just like women: some of them take a long time before you get to talk back. I mean, MS-Dos programming, OK, done it. Easy, old stuff. It took me 6 hours to get one thing done. At least I managed to understand the main functions and commands. Then I went to this guy who is the computer nerd. Freaking genius. Has a 98% avg. in Linear Algebra and aced all his tests in Differential Calculus. Helped me out. Great guy.

I saw Neroli today. Yesterday she wouldn't stop looking at me and smile, but today she didn't even bother to sit with me between courses, and I was alone! She's very attractive, I'll give her that much, but she's still not above casual conversation. I guess we were able to weathertalk, but that's as fun as poking a dead squirrel with my index finger: fun for a very brief moment, then after the realisation of how little cerebral activity is necessary, you stop and wipe your finger with a cloth that was dunked in sulfuric acid.

Routine rebirth

Weeks fly by and I barely notice. Every week has its own set of challenges, but the challenges get harder to deal with. Five days of theory; five days of 18 hour days spent learning what I can. Then the week-ends. Forty-eight hours of free-for-all homework. I did a quick calculation: almost 110 hours a week. I guess natural sciences are is pretty tough. But so far I haven't collapsed.

A sign that I should slow down: I offered a girl to come take a walk during Halllowe'en after movie and dinner, but I forgot to give her my phone number. Great. Well, I guess it is good after all: 1. I barely know her and 2. If she asks me why I haven't given her my phone number it means she's at the very least a bit interested.

I've got a pile of theory to memorize and work on.

Harvest moon and bad memories

Sharp red moon on the eastern sky. The crabs' claws are manifest on its' surface; it's wonderful to be able to walk home without being stopped by militia for papers. We Canadians take our comfort for granted: instead of viewing our freedom as a gift that previous generations have worked for with toil and blood, we look at other countries, countries we arrogantly call "Develloping Countries". Really, I wonder sometimes if living in Canada is not too easy. I remember Africa: presidential guards, thousands, with tanks and armored vehicules. Guns. Amputated children. And Gabon is better off than most African nations. Little do North-Americans understand, and I am a Canadian citizen. I was born in Gabon, Africa, but I am a Canadian citizen...because of what? Because I am one of the lucky souls who have parents native to Canada.

Harvest moon, and soon an eclipse. I might go, but I'm afraid it's only going to recall bad memories. Probably better off studying for that 96% average.

Teen angst and a shower

I woke up today and I felt refreshed, for once. This week has been very hard: three exams, a lab and a lot of theory to learn. Theory that I may use, but when I will have to use it, I'll have books, people and experience to refer to. And time. Which makes tests not apt to effectively "test" an individual. I mean come on, when am I going to have to calculate the half-life of 13,8 kg or plutonium, the limiting reactant in a chemical reaction or the amount of alun (an aluminum/sulfic acid/positive mono-atomic ion combination), all under a specific and small amount of time? "Pat! The core reactor is melting! You have to calculate the amount of energy released so that at least we know how little of us is going to remain after the reactor explodes! You have 5 minutes and you can't ask our 17 chemist to help or our team of specialized engineers!". But hey, you never know.

I came to the conclusion that it's to see who works, and who doesn't. Those that get good averages must be the ones that are going to be the best in a work environment! Hey! I know: let's teach our students that are trying to get into medicine just the theory, and when they get to actually work as doctors, they'll end up as machines who process patients like data. A word to the current teachers or methodology coordinators: you're the ones that are going to regret it when your doctors are going to prescribe you the wrong medication because they were too busy making a list of symptoms they thought you had when you were telling them what you knew was wrong. You're the ones who would've wished a diffent teaching method when your doctor writes the time of your death earlier because he "does not deem the time,effort and ressources of the hospital worth it". I don't care because if that happens, if I'm not a doctor( just like hundreds of people who may not have an average of 96% but have the ability to communicate with other human beings) I'll be the one selling your empty house or the one to write your death in the governmental annals. Kinda crappy eh? Tough.

Ah. Feels much better. I think the shower helped. Teenage angst is sooo liberating. Feels good!


I feel bad I haven't posted anything for a while, but lack of time, energy, and creative thought melded together to create what I like to call Post-Exam-Week-Stress-Disorder, or PEWSD. "PeeYOOzeDee" for pronouciation purposes. I was, however, able to read blogs like Random Thots by Nel. Great Writer! I love to hear her share from Malaysia. There's tons of interesting blogs out there, most of them largely more interesting and well-written than mine. *Sigh*. If only I had talent...

I'm going out for a walk. The sun has receded, and the wind dropped. Time to leave the comfortable cuccoon of my home and scurry "oot and aboot".

NHL and badgers!

Funny!

Hope badgers will be involved! I'd also like to link this blog.

Have fun! I'm going to sleep!

The flower's gone

I went to go look for the elusive orchid look-alike on the hill I previously mentionned. Wasn't there. Did someone dare mow the lawn? Ack!! My life as a botanical genius is destroyed! DAMN YOU JOHN DEER!!! DAMN YOU!!!!

Ahem, well, I'll probably find it again this week. Hopefully I can behead whoever's responsible for this, or at least let them burn in a greasefire. With rabid beavers. And bees. Lots and lots of bees with extra big stingers.

I was taking a walk in my grandparents' neighborhood, trying to make the gargantuan amount of food that I ate (Canadian Thanksgiving :) ) go down when the most beautiful scenery revealed itself. I have a thing for the VW Westfalia, i.e. the "Hippy Van". There she stretched, like a cat, and here I came, like a skulking badger (I imagine badgers skulk a lot, what with the black and white stripes). I approached the feline piece of machinery, and came close enough to touch it. Did I? No! I barely knew it! So I looked...and I looked...and I kept looking until I felt like I was a teenager with a Las Vegas stripper. Wholely absorbed, I did not notice that the owner approached me with a smile. I quickly looked in his direction, not interested in the least in this grotesque human being, with non paint finish and no windshield wipers. Then he proclaimed: "Do you like my car?". After considering I decided not to kick him in the teeth, but to simply answer: "Yes, yes I do. Is it for sale?". He looked at me, sizing me up with his human eyes like I'd be some sort of canvas bag with a dollar sign on it, and produced: "No, but I'll let you wash it!". Of course you will, you big oaf. I mean sir. Lord. King. Westfalia...

Let it be known that I am happy. Until I can either buy it off him, or take it using ways that are not a legal.

Week off!

My week off will officially start tomorrow, so I take today as a day where I am completely oblivious to the fact that "Week off" is roughly translated in TeacherSpeak to "Give a Crap-load of Homework Week". I was extremely busy last week, what with three exams and the ever-increasing pile of work. I don't know how I'll survive university...well at least my friends at the CEGEP are working hard too. But, then again, I'm just happy they're doing well. I'm doing pretty good. So far, I'm slightly over the average in all my classes, except for my French Litterature class, which I've done already two years ago, word for word. I hope the teacher mistakes my high grades for intelligence.

My chemistry test has been an excrutiating experience. All knowledge I may have posessed flew out of my reeling head as I looked at the "monster-questions" that were asked of me. At least I did really well on my lab test. I felt very comfortable in the lab, so I kinda stuck around after to study the names of this and the precautions when handling that.

Gloomy day...perfect for pictures! I found a rare flower (or so I like to tell myself), all alone on a small hill positioned at the back entrance of my CEGEP. Really small, about two fingers width and a half a hand in length, it's flowers have a flashy orange color and the form of the flowers suggests that it may be an orchid. I hope I found a rare offshoot of a rarer Quebecan Orchid...or some such.

Look! there it is!!

I finally finished a huge load of homework...whew glad that's over. Ahh!! Calculus!! Integrals, away!!! Look! there it is! The fabled lost limit of the undefined resultant!

It's already mid-session!! I can't believe it. Can you believe it? But seriously, this is certainly a faster pace than High School. But so far, it's feasible. My average isn't all great, yet, but it's getting there. My tutor came over to help me out.

I still can't get over the beauty of the burnishing trees...they have a mesmerizing quality. When I leave the CEGEP in the early evening, and the trees are aligned on both sides of the trees and they just scream with color. My friends don't seem to be as thrown away as I am, but hey, I've been known to scare some people.

I'd like to mention to the few friends that visit my blog this other blog I found. Very, very interesting!

http://random_thots.blogspot.com/

The birds are leaving

I just noticed that birds have stopped singing. It's 6 o'clock and not a sound out of those flying musicboxes. I guess autumn is really settling in.

I barely have nails left, having been at them all day re, re, re-reading the first book of the Dragonlance saga. It's title is Dragons of Autumn flame. Great book, I was able to read it in three days, being so caught up in it. I feel a tug to go at it with the other two of that trilogy, but I have an insurmountable amount of homework to do. So I've settled to work this evening followed by tomorrow all day. I hope.

Had a great training session yesterday. Found a dependable training partner. I'll finally be able to really exhaust myself and put on a couple more plates on the bench. So far I've promised myself to stay at 215 lbs, but seeing as to how fast my strengh was returning from this summer's inactivity, I'll start somewhere around 230 lbs next Monday.

Since I came here from the Maritimes, I've felt very sad about this new environment that I had to learn to love. It is not like the vast, open sea or the refreshing smell of the salted marshes. It is an akward existence I have lived here so far, every minute a moment of fleeting thought accompanied by an even more quieted sense of passage. It is as if I am visiting, everyday since this summer, thinking everything as a short-term visitor would. I guess what it all comes down to is that I'm simply unnacustomed to Quebec. They call it "La belle province", or the beautiful province, but so far I have been unable to see it. Sure, I've seen a lot of beautiful things and people in Quebec, but the land itself never appealed to me. Until today.

I just came back from gazing at the most beautiful sight I have seen in a long time. The sun, setting in the crimson leaves, lit my backyard aflame, leaving the rustling leaves to sigh as they slowly died away. When my body could move again, I litterally ran into the house, shoes and dirt and all, and ran for my camera. Finding it out of power, I cursed loudly and ran for a pen and pencil. I then did what I could, with my less-than-spartan skills as an artist. I thought of running to my friend's place and get his camera, but it seemed clear to me the sight was not gearing itself for a long stay. So I worked. I drew the trees, that usually never looked so colorful, until I felt I had the gist of it, or so to speak. Even now as I type, the sun leaves my backyard smoldering in darkening contrast with its colors now shining on the horizon. The sky is orange, with a light blue underneath, as if the clouds were quickly rushing to the setting sun. These two colors slowly fade, the yellowish-orange into wisps of dark red; the sky becoming scarlet, then purple. Damn it! Why isn't the camera recharged!!!

Well, I guess that's that, I better do some homework, or dent it at least.

And this is where I have a positive denouement

I did roughly 9(-ish) hours of homework today. It was pretty awesome: I would alternate between different mathematical subjects, Linear Algebra, Differential Calculus and basic Integral Calculus. I feel that I've gained a few thousand neuron connections in my brain through this mathematical marathon.

Tomorrow won't be as bad, however, as to I have done gargantuous amounts of work on my schedule. I think I may be able to go outside...to peep at the sun and all that's green. My room is green actually, with wheat-ish yellow as a secondary color. I picked a pretty flashy green and when the sun hits a certain angle, usually around 1-2 o'clock PM, my room looks like it recently got exposed to stereotypical radioactive material.

I talked with a friend of my parents' yesterday evening. He gave me a few pointers on studying methods. I personally like this one I heard from my friends' aunt: have multiple books laid out in front of you, on the ground, bed, table, tablemonkey, hippopotamus' belly, anything relatively large in area and flat (that's why I like the hippo's belly) and alternate reading/writing to another book, every 20-30 minutes. That works well for me. I can get a huge amount of work done under a couple of hours. A friend at my college says he stands up when he gets tired. Drinks a lot of water and eats something with simple carbs like maple syrup. Then again, he sleeps rarely more than 6 hours. He's a machine. Looks kinda weird too.

Music helps me a lot. I can get a decent pace, and as long as the music plays, I keep working. Miles Davis, or general Jazz, is good. I've listened Fire Garden (http://stores.musictoday.com/store/product.asp?dept%5Fid=438&pf%5Fid=SVCD06&band%5Fid=208&sfid=2) by Steve Vai at least a million times. I think there's a song called "Aching Hungered Heart", or something like that, and it sounds a bit like some old-school Genesis. I like it a lot. I'm a big fan of Genesis, and Phil Collins is an amazing drummer/vocalist.

Gotta love apple sauce.

Has anybody else seen this?

I was checking out updates on www.homestarrunner.com when I found two new Teen Girl Squad updates, that I hadn't seen before. It means they're...secret updates?? Damn you Strong Bad and your stealthy ways!

My math exam went well. Only 7 more to go! (and another 7 in my Linear Algebra class :/)

I did bi's and shoulders yesterday. Awfully sore today. I guess pyramid sets really work with seated double bicep curls...I could barely brush my teeth this morning :D. Standing dumbell row works well too, the traps are well integrated in the shoulder movement.

I have a lab in chemistry this afternoon. Probably preparation, it's only a two-hour session.

A really big show

Tomorrow. Tomorrow decides if I can survive this year of CEGEP. Tomorrow will decide if the path to Medecine is feasible. Tomorrow decides if I will utter, one day, the hippocratic oath (http://ancienthistory.about.com/library/bl/bl_hippocratic_oath.htm). Can tomorrow wait?

Alright, so tomorrow is pretty big for me, as you may see :). But, really, the reason is simple: I have a math test, and I hate math. OK, I don't hate all mathematical subjects. I really like trigonometry, because I used it a lot in physics. You see, I'm all for learning. Knowledge is really power, because in a way, fear is a weakness and fear is born out of ignorance. But, if somehow I could gather the mathematical knowledge of past mathematicians and have it for, say, 2 or three years, yeah, I'd be pretty happy. (Happy at being able to conjure the dead, mostly.)

The autumn leaves have arrived! They come out, timid at their new color, mocked by their green neighbours, but oh, they are much more beautiful. And the vibrant green maple will eventually change color, as will the sky, and then will begin ascending the dreadfully cold nights. The chaotic spirits of Pandemonium that wreak havoc on Hollowe'en will leave, to retreat from the biting cold. Quicky now! And then, one morning I will awake to find my once noisy and brash backyard sound asleep under its' sheets of soft white and precious silk. My cold glass windows will make the most beautiful drawings on my face, as the sun comes up, Emile Nelligan's words will finally ring home: "Oh! Comme la neige a neige'! Ma vitre est un jardin de givre!".

The nights of obsidian darkness, of suspended life, will appear and render the right moments magical. Oh! to gaze on the clear ceiling of our minds, and see our dreams reflected in the stars...

But, not yet.