"He Hears The Silence Howling"

Such an amazing song...

In the shuffling madness
of the locomotive breath,
runs the all-time loser,
headlong to his death.
"Oh" He feels the piston scraping --
steam breaking on his brow --
old Charlie stole the handle and
the train "it" won't stop going --
no way to slow down. "OhooOh"

He sees his children "jumping" off
at the stations -- one by one.
His woman and his best friend --
in bed and having fun.
"Oh" He's crawling down the corridor
on his hands and knees --
old Charlie stole the handle and
the train "it" won't stop going --
no way to slow down. "Heaheya"

He hears the silence howling --
catches angels as they fall.
And the all-time winner
has got him by the balls.
"Oh" He picks up Gideons Bible --
open at page one --
I "THINK" God "he" stole the handle and
the train "it" won't stop going --
no way to slow down.
"no way to slow down
no way to slow down
no way to slow down
no way to slow down"

As The Stars Speak

You can see the stars in the black night sky
A cold wind screams as it passes by
And the silence sings a peaceful song
To the tranquil night your soul belongs

You can hear the lonely cars pass by silently
As wind's gust again howls violently
This serene scene shows you are at home
Free to wander, think and roam

As grim grey clouds veil the moon
Tonight, a cleansing downpour looms
The rain then falls, dancing on the ground
It dilutes Earth's poison with a subtlety profound

As you pace and pace across the land
Nature's beauty, you'll understand
Deafness you hear, your blindness is sight
As you find a light in the dead of night

Self-Induced Destruction

My inhibitions surround me like prison cell walls
A deep and never ending hollow pitfall
Caught in the wake of self-indulgent mistkes
It seems my habits I must forsake

A dreary routine day after day
My cognitions are rotten and riddled with decay
My choices coerced, my mind is infected
Leading a lifestyle which must be corrected

Living in sin, my life is a stain
The habits I hold seem ever-engrained
Cheap overstimulation; my source of elation
Leading me nowhere and procuring frustration

I must face my foes and find a facet of hope
Or I shall perpetually fall further down this steep slope
If I reach the bottom Ill be too exhausted to climb

And my body will be better off covered in lyme

The Veil Of Existence

This world is an illusion, it is darkened by the sun
An impermeable delusion deceiving everyone
It tells the truth in lies; a riddle that reveals
Logic it defies; a mirage that seems so real

It speaks our native tongue, never saying a word
A portrait that is hung, whose image is obsurd
Life's neverending search is a treasure in itself
As divine as a church -- oppurtunity is man's wealth

With every path we take, we cannot see the end
But with every mistake, knowledge it transcends
Fortifying our insight, endowing minds with power
Serving as a mental light -- the darkness it devours

Life's illusion is our own, embrace it when you can
Our purpose is unknown, but embodies every man
A shape shifter of sorts, whose figure stays the same
Circumstances change and distort, but reality remains

I Know You

This is amazing. Can you relate?

"All these words, I don't just say"

So close no matter how far
Couldn't be much more from the heart
Forever trusting who we are
And nothing else matters

Never opened myself this way
Life is ours, we live it our way
All these words I don't just say
And nothing else matters

Trust I seek and I find in you
Every day for us something new
Open mind for a different view
And nothing else matters

Never cared for what they do
Never cared for what they know, whoa
But I know

So close no matter how far
Couldn't be much more from the heart
Forever trusting who we are
And nothing else matters

Never cared for what they do
Never cared for what they know, whoa
but I know

I never opened myself this way
Life is ours, we live it our way
All these words I don't just say
And nothing else matters

Trust I seek and I find in you
Every day for us something new
Open mind for a different view
And nothing else matters

Never cared for what they say
Never cared for games they play
I'd never cared for what they do
I'd never cared for what they know
And I know

Yeah!

So close no matter how far
Couldn't be much more from the heart
Forever trusting who we are
And nothing else matters

Aggravating Arthropods

They buzz buzz buzz beside your ear
Then quickly disappear
And return as quickly as they left
To atrophy your sanity

They buzz buzz buzz beside your drink
Then greet you in a wink
Rapidly pursuing as you attempt to flee
You are stalked on every walk

They buzz buzz buzz beside your hand
Then pick a spot to land
Departing with a swat on the wrist
Only to come right back for another attack

Be it a mosquito, hornet, wasp, or fly
You wish they all would quickly die
Itch! Itch! Itch! your back screams out
Right before you let out an earsplitting shout

They buzz buzz buzzed beside your ear
Then quickly disappeared
Finding a fleshy feast under your shirt

And with a bountiful bite,
They buzz buzz buzz right on by
As if saying "goodbye"

A Drunkard's Delight

Writing from the point of view of the man depicted below.

Today I experienced the absolute worst way of greeting a hangover. With a pounding head and a gut feeling like a rip tide, I awoke to a cacophenous clatter of bottles falling to the ground. Unsure of where I was, and having no recollection of how I arrived in such a perdicament, I immediately searched for an unopened bottle among those piled around me. This was my daily ritual ever since I became a high-functionning alcoholic. To my surprise, I found four, and drank the room-temperature liquid as quickly as possible. My attempts to cure my hangover did not prevail; feeling nauseous already, I purged the rapidly ingested alcohol, as well as last night's meal. As my hands began to quiver, my mood declined exponentially. My hope was that my friend who I was partying with would slip on the patch of regurgitated fermented beverages I had procured. Although this aspiration did not come to fruition, the "BOB WUZ HERE" and "Party Time" inscribed in permanent marker on his forehead lightened my mood slightly -- seemingly being the only sign that the previous night was entertaining, since I remember nothing else.

Spread, Grapevine, Spread

Colonel Slander, my commander
You invoke the powers of a double-standard
To malign and mangle myriads of names
But react enraged when reconciled the same
Like wine's words of wisdom - grapevine

Faceless, you are, with the aspersions you spread
Conjuring coersion with the lies in your head
You usurp the trust which friends have endowed
You ostracize others to be part of the crowd
Like wine's words of wisdom - grapevine

Rumors and gossip, your palaver of joy
Innocent reputations you reap and destroy
Procuring felicity through others' shame
You point the finger so as not to be blamed
Like wine's words of wisdom - grapevine

For on the vines the grapes grow faster than time
To cloud and obscure anything it surrounds
But behind the clouds lies the victim - a mime
Waiting to be found, to let the truth sound
While still succumbing to wine's words of wisdom
They spread like a grapevine

Karma's Evil Eye

A tall, weathered man entered a Scottsdale pub, his trench coat dripping from the ongoing downpour he had just escaped. As he took a seat, the dim light illuminated the multiple scars and wrinkles present on his aging visage. "Gin. Triple shot. No ice." he said in a gruff voice. He turned his head away from the bartender as he reached for his wallet, revealing a spider angioma formed by his atrophied liver. He gulped the three shots, preparing for the job he was to carry out. The shaking in his hands ceased. After tipping the bartender, he left.

No time to relax now, he thought to himself. Not with another job. He started his motorcycle with a rumble, and then a roar as he accelerated. He drove for two and a half kilometers before parking his bike. After another half kilometer of walking, he abruptly stopped, recognizing the abode of his target. He glanced at his watch: 03:30. It was late for him, but today he was early. He looked around, carefully observing the rural terrain for any potential witnesses. Spotting none, he moved in on his target until he was just inches away.

The dark blue door of a 1979 Chevorlet Camero was right by his ear. What a shame. A damn shame, he thought, as he opened the driver's door with a key provided by his client. He removed two rudimentary pipe bombs from his trench coat. They were both 8-inch-long stainless steel pipes with a copper cap on each end. The one he concentrated on most, however, was the one endowed with a timer and fuse. He cut two wires from underneath the steering column, then attached the two ends connected to his timer to them. He proceeded to turn the radio dial to full blast. This would be where the electricity rerouted, initiating the three-second timer as the car was turned on. He hid the two bombs, taping them in an obscure area next to the steering column, then quickly but silently exited his site of work, meticulously leaving no trace of his visit. All he had to do now was wait.

Situated in a small wooded area overlooking the highway and the few roadside properties, he sighed with anticipation. He checked the time again. It was 5:30 in the morning. His target would wake up at 04:30, shower, have breakfast, make coffee, and watch the local news for a half hour. At 05:45, he would leave for work, where he would arrive every day at 07:30. Every day except today, the man thought with a psychotic grin. He opened his trench coat, revealing a small metal flask. He took two large gulps, then returned it to its original place.

The sound of a front door closing recaptured his attention. He spotted a well-dressed man exit and proceed to the blue Camero, as was his daily ritual. The man entered the car, and put the key into the ignition. He turned the ignition, and put the car in gear. Just as he was doing this, the three-second timer ticked its last second. An explosion ripped through the silent countryside. All the tweeting birds stopped singing, fleeing their perches. The trench coat wearing assasin had successfully expunged the life of his rich, powerful target. His job was done.

Retracing his steps, he made his way back to his motorcycle. How happy the boss will be now that I have exterminated his rival gang's leader, he reveled. Upon starting his bike, he noticed a strange beep. All of a sudden, another explosion lit the dark, early morning sky, breaking the silence once more. Victim to the same fate as his last casualty, he had been beaten at his own game. His employer had assimilated his likelihood as a liability - that he knew too much of their organization - and had him assassinated as consequence. And so, with the tick of a time bomb, the hit-man was no more.

Bags Are Packed

My bags are packed. No turning back, oh not till next year. Next year, that is, if I dont shoot my tires out. But Im on the road, and so is my mind. Everythings left behind. Oh, down down way down South on the interstate, and some down on highway six. Everythings there, way down. And down's the only direction I got on this fucked up compass, but thats quite alright for me. Its the way Im heading anyways. Been heading that way all along, but, again, I can only embrace the feeling. The feeling? The falling feeling. Im checked out of the four-floor hotel of hell, and Im fucking off with all the prying eyes that pick ruthlessly at my soul. This four week vacation will take place, even though it shouldn't, and won't help at all. I guess Ill be there. My body will. The rest crossed the Rubicon and there's no turning back. Never liked hotels anyways. Never liked castles. Too many bloody guests.

Vital Signs Absent (Beat Poem)

I leave you comatose like diabetic ketoacidosis
Or cease your respiration like a deep vein thrombosis
Impair cerebral function like Wegener's granulomatosis
And leave you scarred like a liver with cirrhosis

In your circulatory system I am hypovolemia
I will render your body to a state of perpetual ischemia
Deleterious to your health like Streptococcal bacteremia
I rip apart your blood like Sickle Cell anemia

If you are a heart, I am ventricular fibrillation
Your throat belongs to me--I endow you with lacerations
For your code blue, there will be no defibrillation
My attacks are perpetual, like progressive demyelination

Attacking your brain like a metastasizing carcinoma
I crush your grey matter like a subdural hematoma
Then create a hole in your throat larger than a stoma
If you were solely muscle, then you are a myoma

I am the nephritis to your dialysis
Your logic is distorted--no need for psychoanalysis
For your neurodegeneration, I am the catalyst
I am the cerebral edema that your doctor has missed

Wicked Winter

A white flaky blanket coats the ground from the sky
The odd ferocious winds make the naked trees howl and cry
Night consumes the day, where children sled and play
Juxtaposed to us; they see white while we see the gray

Seasonal depression, or sight to place one's hope?
Playfully bolstering bliss, or a scornfully steep slope?
To love the times where the rose wilts, or to instigate hate
Winter's kindness for some, others will never appreciate

Hypothermic and hollow, a homeless man wallows
While the rich bask in warmth, while renowned wine they swallow
Indeed insightful for us to see both places
Winters starting gun rings out, starting trouble races

So shelter the souls who seek to evade the cold
But never lacking is trust, for some are deceitful and bold
To lessen the season's chill, for it's wrath can kill
And fear not for warmth, the promise of summer resonates still

Got 'em back. How long will this last?

Life is so strange when its changin', yes indeed
Well I've seen the hard times and the pressure's been on me
But I keep on workin' like the workin' man do
And I've got my act together, gonna walk all over you

[chorus]
Gimme back my bullets
Put 'em back where they belong
Ain't foolin' around 'cause I done had my fun
Ain't gonna see no more damage done
Gimme back my bullets

Sweet talkin' people done ran me out of town
And I drank enough whiskey to float a battleship around
But I'm leavin' this game one step ahead of you
And you will not hear me cry 'cause I do not sing the blues

[chorus]
Gimme back my bullets
Put 'em back where they belong
Ain't foolin' around 'cause I done had my fun
Ain't gonna see no more damage done
Gimme back, gimme back my bullets
Oh, put 'em back... where they belong

Been up and down since I turned seventeen
Well I've been on top, and then it seems I lost my dream
But I got it back, I'm feelin' better everyday
Tell all those pencil pushers, better get out of my way

[chorus]
Gimme back my bullets
Put 'em back where they belong
Ain't foolin' around, 'cause I done had my fun
Ain't gonna see no more damage done
Gimme back, gimme back my bullets
Oh put 'em back where they belong
Gimme back my bullets

On This Uphill Journey

On this uphill journey I vicariously pursuade
I'm a fuel-less car whose quickness cannot fade
Doubt permeates and encumbers my decisions and thoughts
A perpetual bombardment of a mind in a knot
Yet still my ambition I will not dissuade

I subtly slip from your eyes to the shade
This abhorrent reality I attempt to evade
Yet this insipid insanity is all I have got
On this uphill journey

And soon the reality I will have made
Will embody the felicity I would once pursuade
Benevolence and bliss, my time will have bought
My mind will untie as I unravel life's plot
And so my ambition will never fade
On this uphill journey

It's Fun To Malign Anne Coulter

Anne Coulter had neglected to study
Her thoughts were all mangled and muddy
With a coat full of fur
Touting animal murder
She returned from a walk very bloody

Oh, Steven

Once lived a man surnamed Harper
He lived to make good days darker
With a perpetual frown
He would not speak a sound
If only Canadians were sharper

A Conservative Calamity

The conservative players have won
Our country's head's held to a gun
So the trigger they squeeze
They'll do whatever they please
Just look what our voters have done

Ode To Boomerang

This poem is dedicated to my black and white canine, Boomerang. My family got her when she was one year old, and, on the day of her arrival, my brother, mother, and I took her for a walk. Either Nik or I was holding the leash--I am too young to remember--when a big dog came running after her. The leash was dropped, and the dog went running. We feared we had lost her on her first day. However, when we arrived back home, she was awaiting us by my father's side. We henceforth decided to name her Boomerang. She is now thirteen years old, still strong and very much alive, and continues to serve as a lighthouse when I am lost at sea.

While her colours oscillate from dark to light
This beauty is not solely black and white
More devout than any man is capable of

From wandering in forests, filled with unfleeting joy
To dissuading devils and villains from breaking in the door
She is ever faithful--at peace and at war

My adoring companion contradicts not my words
She listens intently when I cannot be heard
An infallible antithetic to life's poisons and perils

While our first meeting resonated your refusal to part
The succeeding years formed an unstoppable bond
I will remember you always, with the unconditional love of my heart

Re: City looks into taxi accessability

    The proposal to require 20% of taxis to be accessible for those with disabilities is a very appropriate reaction to the absence of licensed, fully accessible taxis. The notion that services to the handicapped individuals can be limited and regarded complacently is one that is foolish and has long since been abolished, and we must reinforce the equality that the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms endows upon us. To maintain equality, these services should not be limited, and furthermore, should not require additional fees.

    The mandatory sanction to upgrade all licensed taxis in Hamilton, however, may not be the optimal solution. This requirement would cast many cabbies into financial dilemmas, limiting the number of operable taxis, and diminishing taxi services in general. These drivers are already facing elevating gas prices, deleterious to their finances. Should city council mandate a law proclaiming all taxis become accessible, they should consider investing themselves, so as to lighten the load on the cabbie's wallet, and consequently hasten the proposed changes.

    With the vast quantity of cabbies in Hamilton, modifications to some vehicles could benefit some drivers. With accessibility comes a broader range of potential clients, and leaves these drivers with more opportunities to generate income. Additionally, the number of taxis required to possess accessibility features should cater to the demand, so as to accommodate those with special needs while limiting the excess spending required for drivers to accrue such features.

    City council must come to a decision that favours both taxi drivers and those with disabilities, and should look further into the financial effects of their proposition. We need to find a middle ground.

The Hamilton Spectator: City looksinto taxi accessability

Re: Celebs react to Osama's Death

With the extremely shocking news of the assasination of Osama bin Laden, and with the Western world celebrating a victory over a powerful Saudi-born figurehead of terrorism, it seems crucial to extol the perspectives of numerous celebrities.

Although deviating from important details, such as the actions sanctioned to procure Osama's death and that which had occured to the corpse, their highly educated insight on the issue is surely superior to those of government officials--the senator of defense for example.

This article is merely a manifestation of a complimation of Twitter responses, touting the opinions of celebrities and lacking crucial factual information. To accrue statements of stars (really, petty blog posts, tweets) from the internet solely to republicize them seems to be more of a boon to celebrity popularity than a newsworthy article, and instills a sense that we require celebrities to formulate opinions of our own. This piece neither entertains, nor informs.


The Toronto Sun: Celebs react to Osama's Death

A Dark Shadow

Cold desolate eyes reflect a convoluted scene
Calmly bestowing visions of a dark misanthropic dream
Clearly characterizing this cruel world as a dark deep well
I live every day surrounded by the vicious depths of hell

But I know there's only so far to fall
If at the bottom, the water does not drown me
I find venemous serpents who hungrily surround me
Taking my life is their only desire
I will be lost for the light is too far to see
Assuring no end of this crushing isolation for me

I live day by day, waiting for a way
A fork in the road
I wander this dreary path hopeless as could be
The only fork I see is the one embedded in me
Stabbing me in the back, I'm defenseless,
 And uprooted like a tree

Can you feel the hate, pain and disdain disseminating from my brain?
Wreaking havoc on society, I am lust and greed
Everything you don't want to see or be
But don't forget, when you close your eyes I am still here
Corroding your soul, filling you full of dread
Resurging daily like the hairs on your head

I shroud your life with scorn and hate
Never early, never on time, never late
My emptiness is filled by the hearts on which I feed
Malevolently gorging on your body, mind and soul
Leaving only when there is nothing left to bleed

I am your disgust, your fear, and your hate
I am everything that is wrong with you
I am your sickest and cruelest fate
I am death

Plenary Introspection

Im more looped than a knot.
Im a convoluted, twisted, and contorted thought.
Searching seemlessly for sun among skies filled with falling sleet,
I feel it come down, freeze below my feet.


Thoughts are a reckless train,
riding hellbound, departing from the brain.
Unveiling the mask I recognize,
I am blind as I see through my own eyes.


A fleeting, passive stare,
fades like smoke exhaled into air.
The smoke rides the furious winds that blow,
embarking on a journey, pace never to slow.


Swiftly sailing by,
revelations pass at the blink of an eye.
Sand storms sift a simple mind,
stripping humanity, sanity is left behind.


My detatchment from reality inhibits my morality,
bringing in question my mortality.
Friend or foe, the truth always shows, invoking a chilling blow, or emitting a radiant glow.

This Would Be Nice Today...

Here I lie in my hospital bed
Tell me, Sister Morphine, when are you coming round again? 
Oh, I don't think I can wait that long
Oh you see that I'm not that strong

The scream of the ambulance is sounding in my ears 
Tell me, Sister Morphine, how long have 
I been lying here? What am I doing in this place? 
Why does the doctor have no face?

Oh, I can't crawl across the floor Ah, 
Can't you see, Sister Morphine, I'm trying to score.

Well it just goes to show things are not what they seem 
Please, Sister Morphine, turn my nightmares into dreams. 
Oh can't you see I'm fading fast? And that this shot will be my last.

Sweet cousin cocaine, lay your cool cool hands on my head 
Ah come on, Sister Morphine, you better make up my bed
'Cause you know and I know in the morning I'll be dead 
You can sit around and you can watch all the clean white sheets stained

red.

The Reflecting Ray

There is a light that shone on the shore
Some say it doesn't shine anymore
Some say it's just too dull to see
But maybe these propositions aren't reality
There is a fog in the air, but one nobody can see
The light is too dull to break the fog
But it is too bright to see
Observations forming thoughts that come to me
Show the light is nor broken, bright or dull
It has no prejudice; It just wants to be free

As the sun rises on one side, it has set in the other
To a dark side, there is always one forever bright
The world alit is never out of sight
Fireflies remain, even in the darkest days and blackest nights
Like a deer, you can always find a stream
And if you have searched on and on
Never finding fire, you assume the light is gone
But close your eyes, you will see it in your dreams
Because the light has no prejudice, it just wants to live free

Cloudy skies cast a calm cold shadow on the land
The darkness devours the great greenspace
Like a face without a man
And so we wait, and wait
Eventually the clouds shall dissipate
The sun shines down through the earth
To the land, the sea, and unto me
I reflect upon the light that's reflecting on me
Reflecting in my soul, I see now what it means
I am the light
I just want to be free

Intrinsic Deception

Deluded I am, time and time again. Betrayal is a force driven by man, plaguing my mental vitality. The lack of trust I accrue from those considered f(r)iends is as useful to my conviction as an extolment rendered aspersion. With a conscience so ravished, I am lead to assume anonymity will fortify my existence as a human being. I see purpose in solidarity and consequently introversion. As it would seem, any credence I endow is a means to dishonesty. Through years riddled with unfaithfulness and contempt, I have increasingly been required to erect barriers, for we seem to not possess self control yet are consumed by avarice; "give a man a key, he cannot not open the door. Give him something free and he'll resell it to the poor." Humanity is the embodiment of a rational mind gone astray. Blinded to the riches we are bestowed, solely searching for happiness through others' vicarious suffering. I struggle to comprehend these selfish ideologies, but, nevertheless, I would rather be a complete recluse than perpetually fooled. A civilization where vice dominates is one I would hastily exile myself from. They are just "one big myoma that thinks [their] planet supports only [them]," including all other inhabitants of this gaseous ball that would benefit to explode. I do understand that not all of humanity suits this description. However, through my trials and experience, I have developed a misanthropic disposition. I lament this fact, but sadly it has helped me defend myself time and time again. It atrophies my sociability. It exhausts my motivational resources like one clear-cut forest after another. I recognize this mundane society with much abhorrence and displeasure - morality has degenerated and virtue has been distorted.

The loss of my innocence seems to have catalyzed the demise of my enjoyable existence. Admittedly, I do take pleasure in some situations. It is rare and scarce. I fail to find solace in the drink, exercise, or relaxation. Only in my dreams can I escape this insipid reality I could call my legacy. Increasingly less are my aspirations to fulfill something achieved. "I sit on my ass all goddamn day. A misanthropic anthropoid with nothing to say." I can connect to very few in my life. Myriads of acquaintances have found means to successfully sanction my abandoning of them. Whether by dishonesty or judgmental points of view that would, in their eyes, compromise my integrity. All the users, liars, thieves, they incessantly potentate my anxiety and cynicism, and for good reason. These personalities are invasive, and impartial to any altruism you have to offer. To dig deep under one's skin just to devour the body from the inside out. The most evil instill a sense of trust and friendship through a lengthy period of time, then demolish it at the foundation, as were their intentions all along. This has left me exhausted. Finding it hard to perceive most trust as veracious, leading to my current antisocial nature.

I attempt as best as possible to be pacifistic. Well aware of my capabilities as a human, a non-aggressive approach is prudent and crucial to my future. As a Scottish proverb states, "where vice is, vengeance follows," and I would prefer not to succumb to that path. But all I have to show for it is recessive benevolence and a self-ostracized being. In theory, complete coexistence is possible. My yearning is for this to come to pass, but, until all humans cease autonomic functions, it is too demanding. Though it can be achieved in an interpersonal manner, I find it difficult to find more than three or four people who reciprocate these inclinations. Regretfully, I am obliged to identify and expunge the many nefarious individuals from my life, but, when I do discover a devout, steadfast individual, perhaps my endeavors are not as pointless as they seem.  In time, absolution will be granted to my pondering.

The Electronic Era

I surf the air and through your wires
Invading your home, I am smoke lacking fire
My subtle persuasion penetrates through your pores
My permeating power invades you subconscious

I, a coercive tyrant without a face
Will consume your thoughts and leave no trace
My vocation to procure wealth with stealth
Your anonymous dictator, I decide what you will be

World renowned and resurgent with your every blink
You write with my ink, I consume what you think
In my immense supply I instigate demand
Silently singing the song stuck in your head

Your conformity clearly endorsed on shirts and shoes
Ignorant to all but the views of the news
My persuasive propaganda procures your personality
I set the status quo so you can follow like an ant

From radio waves to satellite transmissions
Internet adds and subliminal television
I get inside your head as a splinter in the skin
I methodically manipulate the minds of myriads of consumers

A subversive strategy syphonin your savings
Transcending impulses of material cravings
Infallibly rampant and impossible to ignore
Your life I live, freedom of choice I abolish

Oops, Scrambled Eggs or Scrambled Brains?

Woah. I thought it was one a day, not one a week. But then I read it, I mean I must not have been paying attention or maybe I wasn't there when it was first mentioned. Oh well, it doesn' t make a difference. It just means I should be more attentive. Or less truant. Then again it's better than last semester. That's how you sidetrack yourself. Anyways, now, with the rubric, I know that I only am supposed to blog every week (once, at least). I think it's scrambled brains. And this is definitely a trivial assimilation.





P.S.
Oh yeah. Today I went into a Timmies, and told them I was eating in. They gave my coffee to me in a mug. I tried to roll the rim up to see if I won but the mug shattered and I cut my teeth. Damn. 

Decipher

Reality is swept from under my feet
A hallucinogenic realm riddled with deceipt
I must unveil the potent disguise
To procure life's truth I will discover its lies

A tangled transfusion of reality and illusion
Clouding conclusions, creating confusion
Altering all that which I see
Distilling doubt in simplicity

As I trudge through the desert I see a mirage
I seek the man with the ever-changing visage
Like a sage's knowledge requires interpretation
Existence bears baffling and unsolvable revelations

When I close my eyes, which world is the dream?
Subjectivism dictates nothing is what it seems
Implementing rationality is infinitely wise
Defining an unidentifiable man by his disguise

Take life in stride to optimize oppurtunities
Empower your success and recreate the world you see
Mortality's essence will inevitably fade
Embrace it with determination to fulfill your crusade

Thought Goes A Long Way

In light of the environment I found myself facing at home upon arrival, I thought it may be beneficial to any individual reading this, mentally stable or not, to elucidate the impacts that cognitions have on man's  mood and behaviour. Our thoughts predicate our emotions, and, consequently, our behavviours. Habitually, negative assimilations are scarce and usually influenced by negative situations, which is rational. However, when these thoughts are overwhelming, they can lead to negative emotions, and, therefore, actions. This is seen a lot in people with mental disorders such as depression. Psychologists regularly adhibit a treatment called Cognitive Behavioural Therapy.

CBT is a "short-term form of psychotherapy based on the concept that the way we think about things affects how we feel emotionally. Cognitive therapy focuses on present thinking, behavior, and communication rather than on past experiences and is oriented toward problem solving." It is used to treat mental disorders such as depression, anxiety, eating disorders, OCD, PTSD, drug dependence, manic depression, and other conditions, but also can be useful for circumstances with high stress. Practical examples of when this technique could be used are: in preparation for an exam, test, job interview, performance, or any extremely stressful situation. If one were to say, for example, "I am sure to bomb this job interview. I'm not qualified enough as others, I have less experience, and less free time. I am going to do badly," this would effect the way you present yourself during said conference. Coerced by negative thoughts and inhibiting your confidence,  your performance will decline and it will be increasingly likely that you will not seem to be the correct candidate for the job. If, however, you assure yourself that you are represent the perfect, infallible worker and will have no problem convincing the interviewer that he may as well send the people waiting home, your performance will remarkably improve. Although your impression is only a portion of the abilities you need in any job, it will inevitably have an effect. Even you have an enormous workload, telling yourself that you will get it all done on-time will aid your motivation to fulfill said cognition. You don't need anything wrong with you to be able to influence the way you think, feel, and act. CBT  "is the most effective psychological treatment for moderate and severe depression [and] one of the most effective treatments for conditions where anxiety or depression is the main problem." Observing its effectiveness, it couldn't hurt to give it a try yourself on a bad or stressful day.      

Watch This, Learn A Few Words Maybe

V: [Evey pulls out her mace] I can assure you I mean you no harm.
Evey Hammond: Who are you?
V: Who? Who is but the form following the function of what and what I am is a man in a mask.
Evey Hammond: Well I can see that.
V: Of course you can. I'm not questioning your powers of observation I'm merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man who he is.
Evey Hammond: Oh. Right.
V: But on this most auspicious of nights, permit me then, in lieu of the more commonplace sobriquet, to suggest the character of this dramatis persona.
V: Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin van-guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition.
[carves V into poster on wall]
V: The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous.
[giggles]
V: Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.
Evey Hammond: Are you like a crazy person?
V: I am quite sure they will say so.

Maniacal Sanity

A madman's sanity speaks through silent screams
Words left unwritten slip through the seams
Dreaming while sleeping awake, I see the world take shape
If we could tell what was meant to be
We'll never look to the other side,
The truth we'll never see
So what inspires the prejudice and decree?

Still the sane psycho sits and stares
Wondering from inside his cell what is out there
Ever growing weary of the days
His sanity further slips away
 There are always dangers while walking on the path
But if led astray, there won't only be poison ivy on your way


Not everything golden is counted in karats
And not every disease can cause illness
Not all bad apples are rotten completely through
Remember there are two sides of a wall
If you can't see both sides, then you don't see at all
Sometimes insanity is the most rational thing of all

Three Schools, Zero Brains

While I was waiting for this extremely efficient Westdale Secondary School computer to load, I had about an hour to think of a topic that I could write about without boring myself. With no success, I concluded that I would address an issue that I heard  on the radio while commuting to school today.

The HWDSB is debating on the closure of not one, but three Hamilton high schools; Barton, Sherwood, and Mountain. Their claim is that low enrollment rates are coercing them to sanction this decision, but such dramatic actions would force many students to relocate, perhaps out of catchment, creating myriads of transportation problems, and, consequently, attendance difficulties. Students would have to wake up earlier to commute further, and lates and absences would inevitably increase. Knowing many teenagers are prone to go to sleep later, this change in sleeping would leave numbers of desiring learners exhausted, effecting their ability to accrue information and deteriorating their memory. This could be detrimental to their success during exams, tests, and anything else pertaining to scholastic abilities.

Furthermore, this proposal could be altered to accommodate the needs of both students and the school board. By closing one of said schools, the enrollment would increase in nearby schools, therefore satisfying both the board's expectations and the students' situation. Obviously this is easier said than done, but if the HWDSB plans to potentially shut down three schools, then the closure of one should be no big deal to them. They have thought the whole situation through, indefinitely. The above point can be exemplified by the fact that, if Barton, Sherwood, and Mountain were to all terminate operation, hundreds of students would have to be relocated, potentially overpopulating other schools, and catalyzing the need to re-open one of said schools, or to erect portables to host the extra students. And portables, we all know, are to be extolled for their aesthetic properties, their beautiful paint jobs, and their eye catching railings and windows.

Lastly, if the proposition to close these schools is a success, then so is the abrupt change in many teachers' lives, and not for the better. Many jobs would be lost, and many qualified adults would be effected financially and mentally. Teachers, caretakers, counsellors, all to fall victim to an irrational, idiotic decision. Is it worth all this trouble? Probably not. Common sense is not so common.