Beginnings III

The person in the next room had obviously decided not to accept his fate as calmly as Thomas had. They were throwing something against the glass panel set in the doorframe. The glass itself was safety glass and had wire run through it to prevent such an attempt at escape but with enough force, the glass itself could shatter and then it would just be a matter of trying to find a way to bend the wire out of the panel. Thomas considered this course of attack as the crashes repeated from the next room. Finally, he heard the glass break, followed by a voice of his inmate neighbour. The voice held a jubilant note but it was overshadowed by a crazed quiver of fear. Obviously, whoever it was had not counted on the wiring holding through their barrage. As the cries went up, Thomas again slid into memory.

He had sat there in the alley, staring at the bottle, complete with the requisite paper bag. He laughed at the stereotype he suddenly found himself a part of; homeless, alone and out of options. All he wanted was to fall asleep and not wake again. He cracked the top of the bottle and took a long draught from the cool glass. The taste was not at all what he was expecting and not at all as unpleasant as he had expected. It wasn’t exactly good, but neither was it horrible. He drank deeply a second time, this time a little too fast and found himself coughing back up half of what he had drank. As Thomas recovered, he took note of his surroundings for the first time. Directly across from him was a brick doorway that had been closed in. At one point, perhaps, it had been the back entrance or service entrance to one of the many night clubs in this area. Now it was simply a barrier. A little further down the alley was a fire escape that was rusted and quite obviously broken at the joint where the ladder met the landing. It swayed slightly in the night air, creaking with a noise that seemed to obliterate the sounds of the city that was all around him. Below the fire escape sat a dumpster that had seen better days. The hinged top was nowhere to be seen and the sliding door on the front had been beaten into a shape that was almost unrecognizable from its former self.

“Much like himself,” thought Thomas.

He took another long pull from the bottle and then glanced up. Light was spilling down from the apartments that sat on top of the bars and storefronts. There were no laundry lines in this part of town, he noted. The balconies/ fire escapes were bare, and many of the windows were open. The sounds of different types of music and television shows all filtered down to Thomas’ ears, even overriding the groaning metallic creak of the broken ladder. One sound in particular seemed to ring louder than any of the others. It was the sound of a woman’s voice. She was softly singing along to something coming from the stereo. He didn’t recognize it but he could make out some of the words.

Tomorrow I was nothing, yesterday I'll be…

……………………………………………………………………

Nothing in this room but empty space

No me, no world, no mind, no face

But it was the voice, more so than the lyrics that grabbed his attention. The sounds were almost ethereal in nature, ghostly and barely above a whisper, yet they sounded so loud and true against the din of the city. Suddenly everything went black. All sound, all light disappeared in a single instance. It took several seconds for Thomas’ eyes to adjust to the newly darkened alley. By the time that they had, the silence brought on by the blackout was beginning to fill with the sounds of confusion. People were stumbling around their homes, trying to find candles or matches. A dim glow began to creep out of each window as people found alternatives to their electricity.

Thomas glanced along the alley again. At the entrance, he could see people moving back and forth along the main stretch of sidewalk. Occasionally a car went past, and the headlights split the darkness of the night like a spear. Each passing vehicle meant a minute of readjustment to the now limited lighting and Thomas was forced to shield his eyes whenever a vehicle went by. He took another long drag from the bottle and then absentmindedly tossed it towards the dumpster. The clatter that the bottle made as it hit first the lip of the dumpster and then shattered was matched by another loud crash.

“Wait,” thought Thomas, “it didn’t happen like that.”

Once again he was brought around by the sounds from within the building. The klaxons had ceased at this point, and the traffic outside the building was now non-existent. His neighbour had managed to get the wires twisted in such a way as they were able to get their arms out, from the sounds of it. And now, whoever was next door was tearing their skin against the bits of metal and broken glass. The screams were a mixture pain, ecstasy and fear. But now there was more than just his next-door neighbour’s voice. He could hear several more voices in the mix. Some were coherent enough to use words, others just let out shrieks of panic and pain.

Thomas decided to take stock of his situation, he glanced at the clock.

7:06

“Well at least it doesn’t read 666,” he said aloud.

lyrics from K's Choice "Believe" from the Cocoon Crash album, 1998.

Beginnings...

The next couple of paragraphs in the story

He watched the growing chaos outside the window with a kind of resigned detachment. He couldn’t get too upset about his current circumstance as he had brought it on himself. With a regretful smile he thought back to the day he had arrived at Cromwell Industries. It had really seemed like the only logical choice at the time. He had lost his job when the tech bubble burst and he found himself stuck in a rut of attending interview after interview, only to be told too often that he had either not enough or too much experience for the position. He saw the faces of the others in the interviews, and knew he must look exactly the same way. It wasn’t so bad for the first few months. He had the package he had been given when the company bought his position out but that slowly began to wear away. The credit cards slowly became maxed, and the stresses had begun to grow on his relationship with Susan. She had been understanding at first but could not seem to understand why he was having such difficulty in finding work. Eventually she had written him off as being lazy and had subsequently written him out of her life. Next to go was his car, repossessed by the bank for failure to pay, and soon after he lost his home. Nowhere to go, he had tried to stay at the hostel until he found work but on the second night his clothing and his possessions, including his resume disks, were stolen. It was at that point that something inside Thomas simply went away. There was no snap, no dramatic breaking point, just a hole where a piece of him used to be.

He left the hostel that night and found himself walking the busy downtown streets. On the surface, you would say that nothing in his town had changed. The theatres were bustling, and the bars did not look to be hurting for business. Neither were the drug dealers or hookers looking like they were seeing a slowdown. Yet the number of those sleeping in alleys did seem to have increased, and now Thomas was one of their numbers. He passed an all night liquor store and used his last twenty dollars to buy the biggest bottle of malt liquor he could find. He had never in his life tasted malt liquor but it somehow seemed appropriate given his circumstance. He found a small alley and sat down with his bottle.

A loud noise brought him back from his reverie. He tried to find its source but he could not seem to focus on anything in the room, anything except the clock.

5:55

He had been launched into his past memories for more than an hour. The scene outside his window was now one of mass confusion. A heavy rain had begun to fall during his absence, and the clouds that had rolled in had replaced the grey with an ominous black, casting a surreal hue over the land. Cars were sliding form the wet roads and there was no longer any pretense as to obeying traffic laws. People were fleeing from something. the alarm sounded again and again Thomas could not tell if it were coming from inside the building or out beyond the walls. A second loud crash, seeming to come from the room next to his brought his surroundings sharply back into focus.

3 days in the valley

ok well not in the valley, but on the lakefront at the very least. I have done three shifts at the ink refilling spot. So far so good. That also means three days of bike riding, which is also so far so good, although I am certainly feeling it today. The job is such that I should be able to study on slow nights, which it appears many will be. The owner is a very nice man, and the manager seems like a good guy. The work itself is repetitive but has the added bonus of showing immediate results, which is always good =)
Sleep has once again become a foreign concept though. I am just not able to get there, and when I am there, I am not able to stay there. too much running aounrd in my head I guess. I will be glad when the semester begins so that I can focus all of this mental energy into my studies. Physically I am doing ok, mentally, a little... suspect but this too shall pass =)
I spoke to my good friend Vicki last night, she is off to her MA at Simon Frazier University. She already has waaaaay more information from her university than I do. I hope that is not a sign of things to come.
Today is my day off this week. I am going to celebrate it by doing laundry!

the best way...

to write again is simply to begin writing again I think. So, here it goes.

Thomas sat staring out the window at the world outside his current abode. It was a grey day, with wind gusting occasionally and rain that speckled anything in its path. He noted, with a bemused grin, that everything, even the most vibrant colours looked dull and uninteresting. He watched as cars travelled along the narrow road that lead to the former base hospital that was now his regular home. There were puddles forming in the ruts of the road and anytime a vehicle moved through them, there was a a spray thrown up that was reminiscent of a ships wake on the water. Any pedistrian in the area was forced to dodge this deluge of muddy water, as the motorists paid little heed to anything other than their wristwatches. Thomas glanced, almost absent-mindedy at the cloak on the pale institutional green wall.
4:44
He found it interesting to note that it always seemed to be a time such as that whenever he looked. The last time he had turned away from the window it had been 2:22. He turned his gaze back to the great grey wastes that lay outside his perch. The traffic was intensifying now, nothing coming towards the building, but many vehicles moving in the opposite direction. In the distance, or what he perceived to be the distance, he could hear an air raid siren and instructions on where and how to evacuate. He could no longer tell if the sounds were coming from inside or outside the building, they had faded into the background of his consciousness and were fast on the way to becoming nothing more than white noise.
After all, they didn't really apply to him. No one had come to unlock the door to his room, and the bustle in the hallways outside had gone from rapid to frantic to closing in on silent. There would be no evacuation for either he or the others who had been admitted with him. Each would be left to their own devices in their solitary rooms as whatever the warnings predicted came to fruition.

don'tcha hate it when....

you start to write something and suddenly realize that someone has written it far better than you already. Damn you Billy Corrigan!!!!

Honestly"

I believe
I believe
I believe
I believe the love you talk about with me
Is it true, do I care
Honestly, you can try to wipe the memories aside
But it's you that you erase

'cause there's no place that I could be without you
It's too far to discard the life I once knew
Honestly, all the weather and storms I bring
Are just a picture of my needs
'cause when I think of you as mine
And allow myself with time
To lead into the life we want
I feel loved, honestly
I feel loved, this honestly

I believe you mean the best that life can bring
I believe in it all
Honestly, you can try
Your heart is just as long as mine
Is it ours to let go

'cause there's not place that I could be without you
It's too dark to discard the life I once knew
Honestly, a single wrong is not enough
To cover up the pain in us
'cause when I think of you as mine
And allow myself with time
To lead into the life we want
I feel loved, honestly
I'll make a joke so you must laugh
I'll break your heart so you must ask
Is this the way to get us back
I don't know, honestly
I don't know, this honestly

There's no place that I could be without you
Honestly

There's no place that I could be without you
There's no place that I could gleam without you
There's no place that I could dream without you
There's no place that I could be without you
Honestly

and then another!!!!! he stole my creative genius away I tell you!!!!

El Sol"

empty-armed
and half a soul to go

and all i wanted
was you here next to me
a little sunshine and sympathy

now everybody knows
that i've been hanging down so low
'cause now i'm feeling up
soon i'll be feeling out so cold
wondering, will you call
and now i'm feeling high
soon i'll be feeling left for dead
sometimes someone saying yes
changes what you'll bet

and all i wanted
was just to hold you close
a little sunshine
just to butter my toast
and your love next to mine

i had to let you know
that we were meant to be just right
heaven sent, not sympathized
by everybody's lie
and now i'm feeling high
now i'm feeling left so dead
kicking up the dust in bed
wondering, i guess

sunshine
sunshine
sunshine
and some tea

and your love
your love
your love next to mine

i had to let you know
i had to let you go so i
could see my lie fade from your eyes
and to my surprise

that's what i wanted
it's all i wanted
it's what i wanted
me and you

sunshine
sunshine
sunshine
and some tea

that's all i wanted
it's all i wanted
that's all i wanted
it's all i wanted


*sigh* I had those thoughts, those ideas and he pressed them first! I have been robbed I tell you, robbed!

missing muses

I used to write, write a lot, and quite often. I used to have a lot to say... on politics, on sex, on love. I used to write what was in my heart, and in my head and I was unapologetic about it. I wrote poetry, short stories, commentaries, rants, hell even movie reviews. And somewhere along the way I stopped, I started writing short little blog entries, here and on blogspot. Updates, often without substance, devoid of any deeper meaning. I wonder what happened.
I went back over some projects I had done for a WebRing called Fugue and some of them were actually quite good. Even some of the poetry was good. I still don't know what happened, why I lost my muse or when it happened, but it did.
Today there is so many thoughts that swirl around my conscious and my subconscious mind. So many ideas and arguements and laments and stories that are aching to get out, and yet I cannot find the drive to write, can;t find the right vehicle to express myself. It is frustrating... I don;t think it is writer's block so much, as the ideas are there. There is something more to it, but I don't know what that something is. Perhaps it was because I got out of habit, perhas because I focused my creativity into my school work, perhaps it is because I became worried at offending anyone who might read what I wrote. I just don;t know. All I know is that I miss it.

exciting day

Ok today has been somewhat exciting. It started with breakfast at the greasy spoon around the corner, which, as always was great. Did a load of laundry and as I was hanging it on the balcony to dry, I received a phone call from a place I had put a resume in. They wanted to interview me on Monday, but as I will be in Ottawa next week, they decided to fit me in today. The interview went very well. Small family run organization, does inkjet refills, nice people from what I can tell. It is in the Frontenac Mall which is about an hours walk, by my estimation... but I decided I would do something aboutt hat on the way home from the interview. I passed a rather seedy looking used sport's shop and bought a bike that was priced at 45 bucks but managed to get it for 30.
Now, I have not ridden a bike since before my back injury. That is 8 years ago now. Turns out, you never really forget. I managed it without any hassle for the first part of the trip home =) but my thighs certainly let me know Iwas using muscles I have not used in a long time after about half an hour. But still it was a major achievement.
For those who don't know, I used to be very active with my mountain bike. I rode everywhere. It was one of the things I really and truly missed after the back injury. Back home, it simply wasn't an option. The coniditon of the roads and the steepness of the hills meant I was not able to ride. The potholes were bruatl and one of them could have destroyed my back altogether. Here, there are very few hills, and the ones that are here are on easy inclines. So I had been toying with the idea for a little while. The 30 dollar price tag, however, clinched it for me. It isn;t a great bike, and several years ago I would have scoffed at getting CCM mountain bike. I was far too snobish with my GT, and later my Trek. But these days all I need it for is reseaonable transportation and moderate exercise. I will be able to ride it to school and (hopefully) work most days, into at least December and then start again in March. It will help me physically a fair bit (once I get used to riding again) But I have to tell you, in spite of the pain and the current temperature (it is 31 degrees celcius before humidex here) it felt amazing. It felt great to have the breeze in my faces as I rode toward home. The fram is a little small for me, the chain needs oil and I need a helmet, a lock and a set of hand grips, but other than that, the gears work fine, the peddles are strong and the wheels and breaks seem to be in decent shape.
I figure at 30 bucks, if I ride it to and from work (hopefully) at least three times, I will have paid for the cost of it outright =) so if it lasts at least that long everything is good =) and should it get stolen, enh what odds. If it had been one of my 1500 bikes that I used to own it would have been a huge issue, This one... it is only 30 bucks =)
On a sad note, someone whom I worked with a great deal in theatre, and the father of a good friend of mine, Dick Bheuler passed away this week. I wish I could be there for the services. But anyone out there who reads this and who knew Dick, they have asked for donations to be made to the scholarship fund in his name. You can do so by sending a check to Memorial University of Newfoundland for the Dick Buehler Award in Theatre through the Office of Alumni Affairs and Development, 20 Lambes Lane, St. John's, NL, A1C 5C7.
Hope you are holding up ok Mike, and I hope the rest of your family is as well, thinking of you

Thousand Islands

So Jill's mom is here with us for a few days... in our one bedroom apt. Sure is cosy. Though I shouldn't complain I suppose. She took us out to Gananoque yesterday to do the three hour boat cruise through the Thousand Islands and it was stunning. The weather was perfect, I got to work on my farmer tan... and the scenery was just frickin gorgeous. Plus it was a boat tour, and anytime I get to spend on or in water is usually a good thing.
Still no luck on the job front but I think I have things covered to get us through to September... just means there will be no house-outfitting spree in the fall...
I have been devouring textbooks for the upcomging program... one down the second one in progress and two more to read while I spend the next week house / dog sitting for my brother in Ottawa. I am looking forward to that very much. They are leaving me the house and a car... so I can get myself hopelessly lost in a new city.
One of the profs posted a syllabus for the fall for one of the three courses we will be doing. lotsa reading, at least I am going to be a little ahead of the game and will have the stuff read, hell maybe even somenotes taken on it by the time we start =)

age discrimination

it is funny how things work in a circular pattern. 10 years ago this year, I got married ( I have since been divorced). At that time my wife was a mature student working on her Masters at a Uni in NL. She had a hell of a time trying to find work for the summer months because she was too old (she was several years older than I). Too old meaning that all of the student employment projects are geared to those under 30. I am 37... that rules me out. I had a chance at a couple of interviews today, only to have to turn them down because they are a part of the federally funded work projects, which require that the student be between the ages of 16 and 30. I can understand the need to set up youth employment and job experience programs for the younger, and newer workers in the work force, but I don;t believe that if you are a full time student, you should be excluded from working due to your age. I am a full time student. I do not have the ability or luxury of being independently wealthy, and I have to work hard at the school end of it to maintain my grades to achieve scholarships and fellowships so that I can continue my academic career. I should not be penalized on the job front because I happen to be a decade or two older than my fellow students. The fact tremains I need a temporary position, just for a couple of months, until the fall semester starts. My age should be irrelevant to this process.
I remember watching my ex-wife go through this hassle, and how frustrating it was for her, trying to finish her degree and trying to survive on top of that. Now it is my turn. I was understanding then, as my current partner is now, but it is a struggle to say the least.

idle

Idle hands may be the devil's playthings but idle time is depression's playground...