whining and shitting.

planned for a great sleep after another long day at work. long drive. long hours. long time to get stuff set up. windy outside. cool temps. planned for a great sleep. one beer. one glass of wine. anxiety meds. sleeping pills. reading. turned off the lights at 11:30pm. Sara snoring. Taylor downstairs sick. stuffy nose. coughing. lights go off. podcast on. some shitty podcast about making your art no matter what. too much woke culture talk. FUCK OFF!!!

fall asleep. then whining. murphy needs to go out for a shit. he has the runs. wait for him to come back in. go back up to bed. fall fast asleep and then murphy starts whining again. he needs to go back outside for a shit. he has the runs. we go back downstairs. i let him out and wait. he comes back in and we go back up. sara still snoring. somehow someway i fall back asleep again and then murphy whines again. wake up. go downstairs. open the door. wait for murphy to take a shit. he has the runs. wait. he comes back in. we go back up. windows open. cars starting. trucks moving. morning fast approaching. the dull and dumb commuters starting. 6am hits and my alarm goes off. murphy sound asleep. sara still snoring. taylor downstairs sick but sleeping. me awake. tired. frustrated. lost. confused. COFFEE TIME. OLD ESPRESSO MACHINE BACK. it was broken and, hopefully, now it’s not. everyone sleeping. me drinking coffee. no oat milk so it’s not the best. me writing. sara snoring. murphy sleeping. taylor downstairs sick, but, hopefully, sleeping. TIRED.

TIRED.

FRUSTRATED.

LOST.

STUCK.

my friend, joe, died yesterday. liver and kidney failure. too much booze. too lonely. no support. no purpose. what happened to him? did he not have anyone around to help him get back on track?

no friends?

no family?

no support?

no purpose?

SAD.

THE END.

LIFE JUST KEEPS ON MOVING.

TAKE CONTROL BUT HOW?

WHAT?

WHERE?

WHAT?

WHAT?

WHAT?

old and invisible.

shitty sleep. angry and frustrated that, after working all day in the heat, i had to come home and cook dinner and walk murphy while taylor and sara went out to the keg. i didn’t care that they went out for dinner but they should have walked murphy. i brought it up to taylor and she had excuse after excuse and couldn’t just say, “i’m sorry.”

real communication and real connection is key.

vulnerability is key.

humanity is key.

i cannot win at home.

my fault for everything.

i am left alone to fend for myself. taylor and sara don’t see this. two against one. all the time it is two against one. only if i am in a calm, loveable, funny, and submissive mood are things good at home. i have to deal with messy clothes. messy kitchen. constant needless spending. needless take-out. constantly on phones and computers. bad shows. no conversation. no fun. no excitement.

LIVE LIFE TO IT’S FULLEST.

worked at york university yesterday and saw so many beautiful girls with hope and energy and fashion style. beauty is beautiful. inspiring. made me think of all my great times in college. such fun and excitement and hope and growth and learning.

can’t write right now. mind too busy. tired. sitting in a parking lot of a strip plaza. bad sleep. awake. asleep. awake. asleep. awake. asleep. time to go to my shitty job. busting my balls all day with guys that talk about nothing interesting. long drives. lots of traffic. lots of trucks. lots of accidents. lots of sitting. lots of waiting.

covid test for background work on a film. shitty film I am sure.

work at york university.

lots of beautiful girls but i am too old and too dirty for them to even notice me.

i am a construction worker on the outside but on the inside i am an artist. a lost artist.

DO ME.

WHO AM I?

WHAT DO I LOVE TO DO?

WHY?

1985.

another crappy sleep last night. up at 4am but never in a deep sleep. tossing and turning and then tossing and turning some more. the new adhd meds (stimulants) are fantastic but they have hurt my sleep. the non stimulants were great for sleep but also great for sleeping when i wanted to be awake.

another day gone and another day of almost nothingness. work. coffee. dog walk. coffee. lunch. audition and then physio. dinner and now a beer plus some meditation. in a great mood today even with the lack of sleep.

i wonder why wars and killings have become so normalized?

i wonder if trudeau is as bad as many people say he is?

i wonder if it is true that he is raising the carbon tax on april 1st and if he is why isn’t there more of an uproar? perhaps an uprising.

will pollievre be any better?

will he really bring in more homes which will make homes more affordable?

will he really put more money in our pockets?

will he really make our lives better?

what has trudeau done that has been good for our country as a whole?

what has trudeau done that has been bad for our country as a whole?

is ford good?

has he made our province better? and better for who?

has social media made our society worse?

do you tube influencers actually influence anybody? and if you are influenced by one of them shouldn’t you seek immediate help? perhaps a psychiatrist or a psychotherapist would serve you better.

do people exercise everyday?

do people read everyday?

do people meditate everyday?

do people connect everyday?

do people laugh everyday?

is there enough money in the world to stop world hunger?

if so, why haven’t we stopped it?

will there come a time when school is no longer needed?

can we not learn everything we need from the internet and reading books on our own?

why do we need to take math? we have calculators.

do people still listen to music on the radio?

my wife was sick and now she is getting better and i am starting to feel sick.

do kids not play outside anymore?

gym should be mandatory.

we should all try and be as healthy as we possibly can.

i look forward to my morning exercise.

i love running. i love running on the trails.

i am bored still.

always bored.

i love human connection and i love stories.

it is always cold in our house.

i was sexually molested by an older man once. i allowed it. it was after lining up for bruce springsteen tickets back in 1985. i got the tickets. hitchiked home. got picked up by an older man. he stroked my penis. i ejaculated and then he dropped me off at my house. he was mad that i “came” too quickly. i said sorry and then left his car. my dad died eight years earlier. after i was molested i fucked many girls and got into many fights. i was angry and lost. hurting inside. lost. confused. i also played in the canada games later that summer for ontario. 1985. eighteen years old.

the springsteen concert was great. lots of fun. drunken debauchery and great music. i got arrested later that year for assaulting a mcdonald’s manager after he was trying to kick my friends and i out of the establishment for being too drunk and obnoxious. i told him to keep his hands off me or i would beat on him. he said he would call the cops and we left.

the next day the cops called me down to the station and said that i had nothing to worry about. i went down to the station and they fingerprinted me. assault and public mischief charges. i told the cops that i never laid a finger on the manager and they said that it didn’t matter. i threatened him which, according to the law, is assault.

it was a tough year.

1985.

turned 18.

got molested.

played in the canada games.

got drunk. fucked lots of girls.

got in many fights.

and then got arrested.

my life was beginning to take shape.

DAD CAN YOU SEE ME?