chaos and culture.

drove to toronto yesterday.

different people.

different homes.

different stores.

different signs.

different energies.

a beautiful place filled with energy and character.

a place filled with diversity and a pulse.

a place filled with culture and characters.

the big rich builders are trying their hardest to push out the uniqueness and charm but the artists and drug dealers are holding strong.

city living is so much better than suburban living.

i struggle to find the positives in suburban living other than the age old adage of, “IT’S CHEAPER.”

but these days it’s not. not really.

i prefer the culture of a city.

i prefer the pulse.

i prefer the chaos.

i prefer the noise.

the energy.

the artists.

the thinkers.

the robbers.

the drug dealers.

the hustlers.

the restaurants.

the bars.

the coffee shops.

the great movie theatres.

walking everywhere.

less walmarts.

more diverse food options.

less trucks.

more pedestrians.

energy.

uniqueness.

vibrant.

hustle.

smell.

the opportunities.

the women.

real people.

real lives.

real goals.

real and rowdy.

hiding stiff.

stuffed up…again.

sick…again.

stiff.

sore.

the pain continues.

the frustration continues.

i want to run.

i don’t want to hide.

NO MORE ACTING CLASSES.

KEEP MEDITATING.

KEEP BREATHING.

BUKOWSKI? READ MORE OF HIS WORK.

listen to myself.

KNOW MY WORTH.

KNOW THYSELF.

really delve into LOSS. february 17, 1978.

make real notes.

be creative.

be in a state of freedom and stream of consciousness.

LEARN MY DAMN CAMERA.

nobody cares about me and my life.

understand that.

feel that.

take that in.

MAKE THAT MY INSPIRATION.

phony people.

phony stories.

phony faces.

phony wives.

phony rules.

phony news.

phony leaders.

phony bosses.

phony friends.

phony family.

phony films.

phony smiles.

phony facebook posts.

phony ig posts.

smiling stiff faces and bright beautiful colours.

WE ARE ALL IN PAIN.

TAKE MY LIFE BACK.

still no talks with my wife.

still no formal apology.

still no respect.

still no urgency to discuss our lives.

bad shows and scrolling phones.

cleaning up and working.

that is her life.

avoidance and holding on.

zero vulnerability.

zero sharing.

zero discussions.

head to the ground and grind out a life.

I NO LONGER WANT TO DO THAT.

my body continues to be in pain and no one seems to care.

my wife tells me that all of my pain and all of my illnesses are my own fault.

where is the empathy?

where is the humanity?

where is the mother?

typical response from a cold person.

always cold to me.

never fully supported me.

i am sure she loves me but it rarely shows and, more importantly, i rarely feel it.

similar to when i was a kid.

I AM LOVED WITH CONDITIONS.

make money.

get a stable job.

don’t go out much.

don’t drink too much (she won’t stop me).

walk murphy.

stay home.

conditional love.

what happened to unconditional love?

i am sick of pleasing people.

i am sick of living someone else’s idea of my life.

i am sick of listening to dull people tell dull stories over and over and over again.

i am sick of rules and rule followers.

i am sick and tired of living in a small town in a dull town in a faraway town and in a redneck town.

TAKE MY LIFE BACK.

disregarding and disrespecting.

down in the dumps again.

body sore.

bored.

dull house.

depressing town.

depressing wife who continues to want me to apply for blue collar jobs that hurt my body and hurt my soul.

no risk jobs.

health benefits and little more.

disregarding my pain.

disregarding my interests.

disregarding my ideas.

disregarding my needs.

disregarding me.

disrespecting me.

wanting me to live a life that she envisions for us.

sitting at home watching re-runs of sopranos and scrolling on her phone.

no talks.

no discussions.

no sex.

no love.

no fun.

DULL.

BORING.

DULL AND BORING LIVES IN A DULL AND BORING TOWN.

time to focus on me.

my wants.

my desires.

my goals.

my plans.

my dreams.

MY LIFE.

MY LIFE.

MY LIFE.

i do not want to live like this.

i no longer want to live like this.

i no longer want to be in pain.

i no longer want to live in shame.

i no longer want to sit around and waste time.

TIME IS NOW.

loving father. loving husband.

Feb 17, 1978.

Dad’s dead.

didn’t come home from soccer practice.

don mills.

tommy moulsdale.

north york general hospital.

crang and boake.

cassandra public school.

friday night.

pizza subs.

collapsed on the gym floor.

“is it a broken leg?”

“yeah something like that.”

nora vine.

gerry vine.

staying alive.

keith mingham.

ambulance sirens.

nora’s grey ford mustang.

auntie marion’s and uncle mac’s house.

“noooooooooo.”

“he didn’t make it chris. he’s gone to a better place.”

“only the good die young.”

holy cross cemetary.

Dad.

architect.

loving father.

loving husband.

talented and funny.

charismatic and caring.

empathetic.

fun.

unpredictable.

long hair and beard.

short hair and clean shaven.

soccer coach.

positive soccer coach.

lots of friends.

few enemies.

LOVE.

LOVE.

LOVE.

36 years old.

brain hemorrhage.

tommy thought he was joking around.

unfortunately he wasn’t.

he lay motionless on the gym floor.

dead.

Dad’s dead.

February 17, 1978.

we all miss him so much.