Rupert's World

Between my Toes

2007-05-13T20:03:00.000-04:00

Sometimes when I'm alone, everything gets lighter. My breathing slows down and becomes in sync with all bodily rhythms. The world is a faint beat. That's when I look out the window. All the traffic, the noise, the lives down below, they all fade out and are replaced by a wash of white. I close my eyes and when they open, I'm barefoot on a beach. Then I flip the light switch. And for miles, I can see everything laid out before me. And everything is a wave, eating up the horizon. It comes up to the shore and I can feel the water rinsing the world away between my toes.

Stuck Between Wake and Sleep

2007-05-11T22:27:00.000-04:00

[As is always the case with such entries, people have a tendency to think what I write is always about THEM. It's not. It's about me. And ALL the people in my life. Try to keep that in mind, kids...]

I really do need to learn when to keep my mouth shut. I tend to open it up and fuck around for no good reason a lot of the time. In looking back, it has cost me a lot of friendships and made me something of a an ass hole in the eyes of many. And of course, the hosts of these eyes (these people know who they are) have gone on to slander my name - without second thought or attempt at understanding - and in doing so they have jeopardized my relationships with some of my closest friends. But then again, I have been a bit too forward in the past.

Most of the possible and past friends I've alienated by making noise have meant nothing to me. But when I start inadvertently hurting the people I care about - and over things of no significance nonetheless - it becomes clear that there's something wrong with me. So for all that I've said and done, I'm sorry.

But don't for a second think that because I am so quick to open my mouth to those who are fragile to such noise, do not think that that then means that I myself am not breakable. In fact, I'm much more so than most, despite what my friends may believe.

And if you think that your soul has been offended and that you have been made to suffer by the means of my rambling thoughtlessness in the past, then remember this: I am made to suffer not only for the words and actions of others, but also for my own. Karma is conscience. And if you think I don't have one and that I don't feel remorse for my sins, then I only wish you could see me late at night when everyone else finds rest and dreams. You'll almost always find me awake in my bed - stuck between sleep and wake.

Confronting yourself for your sins is a nightmare. And when you are not so lucky as to find yourself asleep, there is no waking up from any of this. Won't somebody pinch me? Slap me? Punch me? It would be so much better than making me go through this alone...

I suppose we must all look out for ourselves in the end.

Some Things Never Go Out of Style

2007-05-07T22:44:00.000-04:00

Sex comes and goes. Friends back-stab and betray. Family abandons. Pets die. New pets die again (or get flushed). School ends. As does work. Fashions are here then gone. Money comes and gets pissed away. And so do good looks. Colours fade. Words are forgotten. Wars come and go. Along with death. But as the planet turns, some things must still turn with them.

That's why chocolate will never go out of style... chocolate and love.

rinse and repeat

The Battle Within

2007-05-04T23:01:00.000-04:00

I know I probably should sit myself down and write a thousand word long shpiel about how great it is and beautiful and touching and powerful and scary and sad and happy and hilarious and quirky and intense and finger lickin' good...

But all I can think to say is this:

Go see Spiderman 3!

And then:

Rinse and repeat...

2007-04-23T17:24:00.000-04:00

Dream

2007-04-22T15:01:00.000-04:00

I couldn't sleep last night. I was up late, tired and exhausted as usual. But it was a tease, cause I couldn't find any sleep. So at some point I popped The Science of Sleep into my good old DVD player. And wow was it amazing. It's probably one of the most imaginative films I've ever seen. Go now and watch it!

rinse and repeat

Tin Men

2007-04-20T23:51:00.000-04:00

We all do it. It's that formality that enters into everyone's blank mind the second they begin a conversation with someone: "How are you?" And then comes the expected conventional response: "Good." Just once I'd like to talk to someone and have them answer honestly. Tell me you're doing horribly. Tell me the world is crashing down around you. Tell me you're pissed cause you haven't gotten laid in months. Tell me you've finally realized that you're just a convenient nothing in this world and that that very thought is tormenting you day and night. I don't care if you can't think of anything specific enough to be of interest, say something. Anything! Tell me anything. But only tell me you're good if it's the one and only truth.

People are so dishonest these days. To themselves, to each other. It's disgusting. But it's also human. (What does that say about us as a species I wonder?) Maybe we all need to protect ourselves from others. So on some level of consciousness, we cover ourselves in such thick armour that there is nothing but this cold, impenetrable steel on the surface. And if we should ever attempt to uncover the beauty behind one another's shield, a sharp sword will find us in a swift thrust. Some of us spend so long adding on more and more layers of protection that after a while, we are nothing but hollow suits of metal. We are Tin Men. And Tin Women. Then we begin to march through the halls with our shields tightly drawn and our swords displayed conspicuously so as to say "Should you look into my eyes, it will indeed be a short-lived gaze". The panorama presented us when staring into each other's sparkling spots is the ultimate discovery of life. For it is at that point when you will understand. Understand everything - me, you, and all the in-between. Without understanding, what's to be said of happiness?

Almost nobody is happy anymore. Not to suggest we were ever all dancing joyously around in a field of daisies with huge grins glued to our faces. But it's getting out of hand now. Some people publicly choose not to be happy. And therein lies a great irony. Because one who must convince themself (and those around them) that they are unhappy, must have been terribly unhappy with their lives to begin with. A happy man would not spend his days parading a frown.

People trap themselves along two psychological borders, two extremes. It's either one extreme or its opposite. Either you've judged yourself as harshly as possible (too harshly) and rejected any notion that your life has meaning. Or, on the converse, you've isolated yourself in a naive state of mind where you are some wonderful, righteous, pure-hearted human being, and you can't realize even your smallest faults. One could argue the second example would actually disprove my point, because ignorance is bliss. But I ask you, what kind of happiness one truly attains in such a mentality? It's a dishonest kind of contentment. It's one that is neither fulfilling, nor self-actualizing. It's a lemon happiness. And its cheapness echoes for miles.

I took a walk tonight to clear my head. I wanted to flush out the night things, that have once again returned to tease me with unanswerable riddles. What I found was, in fact, a clear view. Chaotic, messy and exhausted, yes. But all this came in a bizarre clarity nonetheless. I don't much like myself when I'm thinking clearly. But I like myself much less when I'm not. So really, I'll take whatever I can get.

I don't really find epiphanies relieving. Nor do I think that they necessarily guide me in any way. In fact, much of the time, they complicate life and place a heaviness on my shoulders. Though they do illuminate something within me. But when I purposefully hide in the shadows, rejoicing in brief periods of lightness, I am dishonest. I am a dishonest fool. And I'm a coward.

Sometimes, when I meet a friend, I prepare for the end of a friendship. I rehearse myself in my head. I prepare my honest thoughts. And then I come up to you. I take a deep break. I open my mouth. And I'm empty. I feel my metal arms and metal legs extending from this shell of a body. And as I catch a glimpse of this scene in the nearest reflection, I realize that I'm not even there.

Where did I go?

War Pigs

2007-04-18T18:41:00.000-04:00

Here's Mike Moring's entry in Cake's music video contest for their version of war pigs. And if you ask me, it blows the other videos out of the water...

Hard to Find

2007-04-17T17:44:00.000-04:00

I keep on thinking about the fall. I'll be leaving for Halifax in 4 and a half months. And already I want to start that thing people do where they cross off days on the calendar. I'm tired of things here. I've spent the last while re-evaluating who my friends are. In some cases, my real friends are clear to me. But overall, I've actually been really surprised with how short that list has become. I'm somewhat taken away by my realizations about friendship lately. I'm come to admit things to myself that a year ago I may not have had the power to accept for myself.

There's so much fakeness, jealousy, meanness, ignorance, condescension, and so on in the world. I've been blind enough to assume that my circle of friends was completely beyond that shit. But behold! Once again I've been proven wrong by the people closest to me. It's saddening.

Normally this would be the point where I end by saying "Sorry, I know I must sound condescending and petty and stupid, blah blah blah..." But fuck all that. I can't apologize for myself. Nor can I expect my friends to reciprocate the gesture. Maybe because most people lack a sense of humility. Or, in other words, they cannot accept their faults and confront their evils. It's so much easier to just submit to self-denial, isn't it?

To quote Fight Club, "self-improvement is masturbation".

After the Flood

2007-04-16T18:00:00.000-04:00

Free the Children

2007-04-11T20:38:00.000-04:00

GYD

2007-04-07T19:32:00.000-04:00

Fall '07

2007-04-03T21:14:00.000-04:00

Halifax, here I come!

Prelude to Awesomeness

2007-04-02T23:01:00.000-04:00

I know I told myself a hundred times that I would resist the urge to listen to exclusive pre-release songs from Matt Good's new record as he streamed them
on his website. At least until the record itself came out. But what can I say? I haven't any will power to speak of. Everyone who knows me knows that about me.

I spent all night listening to A Single Explosion from the new record. It's something powerful. It makes me so happy I could cry.

rinse and repeat

A year ago today

2007-04-01T00:08:00.000-04:00

click image for album

Blank Canvas

2007-03-31T21:00:00.000-04:00

I want my dreams back. All of them. I want back the heroic adventures I used to have in that period between sleep and awake that belonged only to me. That was where I really lived. It was a home I created within me. And I've become homesick. I want to see inside myself again.

I used to sit in a secret cave and write stories all day. I'd imagine what the world was like outside. I'd never seen the oceans or the rain forests or the stars on a clear night. But I fantasized about them all nonetheless. And I made up absurd tales about what those wonders could have possibly seemed like. I closed my eyes and looked down at the world from a great height. Or I shut my mouth and had imaginary conversations with characters from all walks of life.

I made up a lot of stuff that was even harder for me to understand than those around me. Sometimes I was full of shit and didn't know it. Other times I actually pulled an original idea out of somewhere I didn't know existed. And every now and then I was able to just speak from the heart and paint an honest picture of myself. Honesty came both in my faults and in my successes (of which it seemed like the latter was much rarer). The only faith I held onto was that if I sat down one night, I could think of something worthwhile to say. Even if it was completely ridiculous.

Now I have nothing to say. I have no lyrics of which to sing. No chants or adages or words of wisdom. Somebody turned me upside down and all the gears that used to motion ideas fell out. Now I sit and stare at a blank canvas and think about the clock on the wall.

This isn't all to say that my feelings of late are a void. Because that certainly isn't the case. I feel more powerful and important things now than ever. And at times, when around those I love and feel strongly for, I have had some of the most significant experiences of my life. None of which I'd trade for any amount of silver or gold. And sharing that period between wake and sleep has shown me even more wonders and happinesses than ever before. But I digress...

My problem is that I cannot put myself into words any longer. I sit for hours and attempt to decipher my own life, my thoughts and feelings. And instead I just look into the mirror with curiosity and I chuckle. At what? I'm not sure. But isn't life funny?

A Good Question

2007-03-29T21:58:00.000-04:00

I had my oral surgery this morning. It went well (I [heart] anesthetic). But the whole rest of the afternoon, after the freezing wore off, my mouth kept asking me: "Is there any such thing as a T4?"

Irony: In order for me to be out of it enough to actually perceive that my mouth was talking to me, the T3s that I am on would have had to have been working well enough in the first place.

I guess I should be more cautious of nearly contradicting myself when I trifle with the power that is metaphor. But I suppose Milan Kundera was right when he said "metaphors are dangerous".

Update: Apparently, of the 2 types of painkillers I've been taking, only one are T3s. The other is some pill that's just a little shy of being considered a narcotic. Neither of which is really doing that much to me... And to think I've always been baffled as to why I can almost never drink enough to get right fucked. Damn this high tolerance o' mine.

Righteous Rags

2007-03-27T22:36:00.000-04:00

It's Time

2007-03-24T14:01:00.000-04:00

It's time we all remembered who we are, who we were yesterday, and who we wish to be tomorrow. For some of us it's time for change. If only to right our wrongs and put the universe at balance.

Everyone gets a second shot at life. In fact, everyone gets infinite shots. It's eternal recurrence! But it's the first time through that matters, cause if you screw this one up, you'll have to relive your mistakes over and over...

Rinse and repeat.

Life in Focus

2007-03-20T22:19:00.000-04:00

The Night Things

2007-03-19T23:32:00.000-04:00

The bad dreams keep me awake. Late at night. And into the morning. Cause there's nothing I'm more afraid of than my own imagination.

Hey Jude

2007-03-18T16:55:00.000-04:00

So, I have a whole list of movies I need to see - whether in the theatres or old classics on dvd. I watched Fight Club today (finally) and loved it. I have to get my hands on the book now.

I still haven't seen a lot of movies I want to see. And as for films coming out this year, there are a few that I'd kill to see. Like Spiderman 3. Or, like this...

Fight for Your Right... Not to Fight

2007-03-16T17:53:00.000-04:00

Come out tomorrow, March 17th, to protest the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. If you live in Peterborough, meet at 1pm at Confederation Park (across from City Hall). Bring a sign if you're feeling creative.

Best Tongue 'n' Groove Experience

2007-03-16T13:54:00.000-04:00

Extraordinary Obligations

2007-03-15T12:02:00.000-04:00

I borrowed this link proudly from MatthewGood.org. I felt I needed to post a short excerpt because it's a perfect elaboration on my feelings from the last entry...

I wrote. I gave money, sometimes in large chunks. I went to anti-war marches. I demonstrated. I also planted a garden, cooked dinners, played with children, wandered around aimlessly, and did lots of other things you do when the world is not crashing down around you. And maybe when it is. Was it? It was for the men in our gulag. And the boys there. And the rule of law in my native land.

I now know the way that everyday life can be so absorbing, survival so demanding, that it seems impossible to do more on top of it or to drop the routine altogether and begin a totally different life. There is the garden to be watered, the aged parent in crisis, the deadline looming; but there are also the crimes against humanity waiting to be stopped. Ordinary obligations tug one way even when extraordinary ones tug the other way.

Where has my sense of obligation gone? It must've flown out the window on one of those afternoons when I was just gazing out at the clouds for hours. I've spent a lifetime flying through the clouds when I should have had my feet firmly planted on this hell of a world. One of these days I'm going to fall like a rock from the sky. When I hit the ground I'll pray that nobody asks me where I've been for all these years.

rinse and repeat