1st Installment - Giving This A Try

So, I'm starting my daily practice.... and even though I'm.... shouldn't be walking, I've been asked not to walk cause my feet really hurt, I mean, I can walk if I had sneakers, and I do have sneakers, except I think they're the ugliest things on the planet and quite frank I'd just rather not wear them. And I know that's really crazy 'cause my feet hurt so much sometimes that I can't even walk. I don't exactly know what's wrong but, apparently it's wrong enough that I can't walk..... Anyway, I've decided my daily practice, I've decided that my daily practice is going to be me kind of recording me talking to myself, as I walk home, cause I always walk home, its my down time. I generally smoke a joint during this time too which sometimes helps, sometimes doesn't. We'll see I guess........... So what's on my mind today? I don't know, the weather's amazing! I've been thinking about all the brilliant things I would say on this little recorder, once I started doing this, by the way, the date is February 21st, 22nd I mean, 2010. I think it's my best friend’s birthday, actually I don't really know when it is. I just know it's around this time and, February twenty- something and, well s/he's living in Jamaica, with the father of his/her son, a wo/man who s/he really doesn't get along with very well and s/he's not really in a happy place right now and I kind of feel for him/her, but at the same time, we all write our destinies...... going to pause for a moment while I readjust my situation............................................................... That's better , I hate carrying things when I walk, especially things that I can’t just, like, throw on my shoulder, things like lunch bags and bottles of water and what not....... I don’t know, I decided to do this because, well for the past year or so I've been collecting conversations and supposed to be transcribing them but I only really transcribe a minute of each conversation, it’s got to fit a sheet of film or a role, I haven't quite figured that out. But, it’s got to fit on a limited space and so obviously it’s not the entirety of these conversations that gets transcribed but just a tiny little section. I was wondering what would it, what would it be like, to collect my own conversations with myself, and transcribe them? I don't know, I kind of, have noticed that there's a lot of people that talk to themselves openly and out loud and I'm fascinated by that cause, I don't know if it was just me, or what, but I was under the impression that only crazy people talked to themselves and you know that was something that you do in the privacy of your bathroom, bedroom in front of a mirror, that it doesn't actually happen out loud cause if, if no one hears it does a tree in the forest actually make noise, I don’t know, is a person who's only crazy in front of the mirror in the bathroom by themselves actually crazy? I don't know. So I kind of said in my mind that everyday that I walk home which is everyday ‘cause I love walking, I'm going to record the conversation I have with myself, my rants, my raves, my thoughts, doesn't matter, whatever, and transcribe them. This doesn't take more than, I don't know, an hour of my day, the recording part of it. I've never really been good at transcribing and I don't ever do anything quite official or technically or appropriately or anything like that. I usually fuck things up and it’s usually through fucking things up that I realize, how brilliant the fuck up can be and the fact that I love fuck ups and the fact that I absolutely love and I think I'm going to make it , like, a mission of mine to collect brilliant fuck ups. Fuck ups that just say so much. And not that I want to put judgment on the people that make these fuck ups cause, don’t get me wrong, we all fuck up all the time, fuck up with everything, even ourselves. I don’t know, I don’t know. I just feel, like, instead of downing on the fuck ups, sometimes you need to embrace what comes out of them rather...... there's very few times in my life I've actually let myself down...... but anyway. I.... the reason I smoke pot, before I uh.... rhyme my thoughts of..... On this digital recording, is because ..... I'm..... I don't have as much inhibition, I'm a little more calm and a lot more thoughtful. I feel, anyway, a lot more thoughtful...... and so why not share them? That, and I care less as to whether or not I'm some out loud talking crazy pothead on the street. I actually love it, I love making people feel uncomfortable, and I love making people a little intimidated or afraid of me. I think that comes from being bullied or beat up or hated or feared or resented or just misunderstood, I don't know. I feel like I've always been misunderstood..... I feel like even now-a-days people don’t know who I am and really cant, when you tell people certain things about you, about your past or your opinion or who you are or what you think or why do you feel you are a certain way, they kind of freak out man! They kind of, they kind of lose it. Like their bubble's burst and its like, honestly, I hope I wasn't a bubbles, I hope you didn't think that of me, I hope you didn't expect that I would meet your expectations, cause isn't that fucking ridiculous?..... I like making people feel uncomfortable. I like freaking them the fuck out! I like saying things that make their eyebrows raise and then makes them knot and them into a knot in the middle of their forehead. And the reason why I think I like this is because....... people are most surprised by, I feel, that most real truisms. And their most offended by these truisms too, like, patriarchy exists, and black people still suffer and I've never felt normal...... I'm afraid of the standard we set for ourselves sometimes..... I'm afraid because I feel like we're really fucking up.... but anyway....... I miss my family, it’s an early spring in Vancouver and I miss them. Spring reminds me of Persian New Year and Persian New Year reminds me of my family. My mom especially, who I remember being the most beautiful wo/man in the world. S/he used to wear amazing flowy skirts and beautiful tops, I mean s/he was so beautiful, I didn't understand why everyone wasn't in love with him/her. But s/he would dance in front of us in like these amazing ways and his/her skirt would just rise as s/he's spinning and it would ripple and it was beautiful. I mean it wasn’t just one skirt s/he had, like, a whole collection of these skirts or something, I just remember it wasn’t one skirt...... At that point, I wished I was as beautiful as my mom..... But doesn't everyone have that feeling?..... How could you not think that your mom was the most beautiful wo/man in the world?...... My mom definitely is. And yet she's nuts, and not like nuts like you know, needs to be put away nuts or anything, not that anybody needs to be put away but, you know, life takes its toll on you and when, you go through enough you kind of, you unravel a bit……… and uh….. Not that the unraveling is bad but it makes you a little nuts I think…… I mean, I think we’re all a little unraveled and some of us could admit to it better than others but, s/he’s nuts, s/he’s manipulative and controlling and those things seem to go hand in hand and be… huh.. Passed down from generation to generation I’m not sure…………. My grandma was nuts, not my mom’s mom but my dad’s mom…. So much so that I resented him/her until s/he died and then I loved him/her cause….. S/he wasn’t around to be nuts anymore and… I could build this beautiful fantasy of how incredibly wonderful of a woman s/he was and how much s/he loved us and …. All of that…. I can’t shake the memory of wishing that s/he was just like every other grandmother who wore a bun in his/her hair and baked cookies and had you over for the weekend and... But it wasn’t like that.... my grandma was a widower since my father was fourteen and.. Uh.. A widow since my father was fourteen and ….. S/he……. Lived a very independent, life, you know…. S/he was the first in our family to get his/her face lift and s/he ended up getting two or three, no one really knows. S/he was like the Liz Taylor of our family………………. There’s pictures of here where s/he’s absolutely stunning in a dress that I would kill for, just decked to the nines, smoking on a cigarette being super cool, living like a single wo/man for the rest of his/her life. I honestly believe s/he hated men, s/he had three boys, one of which is my father……. I think s/he hated men………………… I don’t know, maybe this is sounding all a little too poetic.. I feel like I’m speaking in prose, which never happens, although I ramble a lot but, huh…. Maybe I need to ……. Slower my pace and take a few more drags off this joint………… huh… Do I speak like this to myself in my head?…….. I feel like I do, I feel like this conversation is still normal and natural but it isn’t cause its out loud and I cant help but… try and sound like I’m some brilliant author writing some brilliant book….. 'cause why else would somebody walk down the street talking out loud to themselves….. At least I have the recorder…… what kind of social experiment would this be if I didn’t?……… I like it when people think I’m a little crazy, except recently people have been thinking I’m straight edge which really bothers me…. Like why? 'Cause I’m old? I’m not that old…. I’m not even thirty yet, even though it’s a few months away……. I still feel like I’m seventeen except I’m totally incapable doing the amount of drugs that I did when I was seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, I don’t know…. Sometimes I wonder if I’ve done permanent damage…. Don’t we all though, in one way or another?….. I quiet as people pass by, I really don’t want to be screaming into, a recorder as people are walking by that’s just, a little nut bar, I’m just not comfortable with it at all………… This walk, has become what I look forward to in a day, when I was told I couldn’t… I wasn’t told….. I don’t go to the doctor, nobody tells me things, but, my body tells me things and, when my body tells me that I shouldn’t be walking, I listen to my body because…. Fuck…. Its painful communication but it………… anyway, I’m just not wearing sneakers and so I shouldn’t be walking the whole way home….. Maybe I’ll make sure I take my sneakers with me, but you know, I hate carrying things around, I hate carrying things while I walk…. A purse is enough……… When I was younger I used to carry a massive bag and like, it would weigh on my one side and my back always hurt and I couldn’t figure out why, it’s this massive bag with all my shit in it and I would walk for hours, with it on the one side…………… as soon as I let go of that bag, cause in high-school you have to have a new bag at least every two years if not every year, but when I let go of this Doc Martin massive side saddle sort of bag, my dad scooped it up in half a second, made it hers/his. It had a wicked broad strap and it was all just so well put together and think it’s still exists to this day, it… it’s a beast of a bag……………….. I don’t know, sometimes, sometimes I really don’t want to do this but you know, part of me is kind of committed to this and I’ll tell you completely why, it’s because, the conversations you have with yourself they, you know, they, they , they mean something…….. They’re important conversations just like all conversations are important, just as conversations reveal things about people, places and things that, that, you may not be able to isolate otherwise and, time, they kind of, do the same thing, I’m doing the same thing, I can go back and listen on this and its pretty fucking interesting, you know, and I don’t know, I feel committed to figuring out, what I think about my own voice and my own language and my own way of saying and speaking things and communicating, people say I'm a great talker and to be quite frank, I mean, I say stupid shit all the time....................................................... ................................................... I don’t know what else to talk about in all honesty, it’s a beautiful day in Vancouver and you don’t get very many of those, ever............. I hate this city, I hate this city so much I can’t even enjoy it sometimes, at its most enjoyable times cause it's.... god it’s like..... I don’t know, its like living with someone really annoying, that just makes you cringe at everything you do and say.................... I don’t know........ its interesting cause, when I lived in Ontario I went from living in a relatively big city to a small town and the reason why we moved is because my sister who has developmental disabilities has mental disabilities, whatever you want to call them, s/he's, slow in other words, s/he.... my parents... my mother totally devout on his/her receiving the same education as every other person in, in, Canada, in Ontario, whatever, refused to have him/her put in special education and so, s/he found this school, this high-school um, ‘cause she got away with it for grade school but, you know, people were like, you cant put him/her in high-school class with everybody else, s/he pushed and when s/he couldn’t get his/her way, s/he researched and s/he found a school in Ontario that had a program where his/her kid could sit in class with everybody else and ...... we moved 100 kilometers west of Toronto to a place called Kitchener Waterloo and um........ Went to high-school there. It was a small town it was kind of like a German, English community and... actually I’m not a hundred percent sure of...but German, I mean the only city in all of Canada really, to celebrate Oktoberfest really, I mean, I’d, I didn’t even know what Oktoberfest was until, I lived in Kitchener and there, its a feast man, its a party, people are in the streets, its amazing, a better party then I've really seen in Vancouver...... although pedestrian Sundays are wonderful if they had them, in a different place at a different time so that you could go to different communities and just, you know, hang out and uh...... and....... the night of lost souls, I really like that parade as well...... I don’t know....... can’t remember what I was talking about, but it'll come to me........... Going to take the back alley and continue smoking this joint........................ I just feel so isolated here even though, this city is so small I can walk everywhere and its so small that I could know everyone and this city is so small that I could do everything and ... I just feel limited..... I feel like..... This place lacks a sense of community and generosity and camaraderie. I feel like, everyone feels like they’re in it on their own around here and it’s ‘cause they are it’s ‘cause nobody want to like, really...... huh... align themselves with anything, anything, a community, who gives a shit man, like when you're done with it you get up and you go...... but just build something, anything! And then as soon as you got something, anything, it’s like closed off and quartered and it’s a collective and not a community that has the possibility of growing and it’s a collective...as in, we collected these people and, we're not sharing them.... or ourselves................... I love this area, this like, Indigenous Co-op housing.... I love this area and I hate this area.... I live at Commercial and Broadway, I hate this place like, right on the corner, like, across the street from the Rio, Cinema........ And it’s so insane and so beautiful all at the same time. It’s schizophrenic, that's what this city is, and it’s fucking scizo-fucking-phranic..... Its drives me insane............ It’s so weird, part of me can never get used to this place, part of me can’t just, walk up to people and make friends cause they look at me, and just by the way I’m dressed, cause I don’t look like other people and I refuse to dress like a hipster, just ‘cause I’m in the art world and all of that, like, all of a sudden I’m some freak of nature............ and I like it when people are afraid of me but not to the point where they think I'm straight edge! Are you kidding?......... Have we lost our minds?.................. You can’t be straight edge and interesting........ Everyone is fucked up, we're all a little fucked up.... in our own ways..................... that’s the reality................ I’m going to j-walk across Clark...................... it’s a good time to...... oh shit................................................................................................. Oh Jesus!............... what is up with that? What is up with people stopping in the middle of the road here? Like honestly, if you just follow traffic bylaws, traffic laws whatever the fuck they're called, I've never driven a car but honestly? Like, I know how to j-walk man, I’ll wait! I’m not going to run in the middle of the road you don’t need to stop traffic at rush hour for me, honestly.......................................... you think you're doing me a favor but you're actually making me look like the biggest douche-bag............................................ .......................................................... I don’t know, if the heart and soul of the people that is Toronto..... Were to live here, fuck...... it would be a whole different scenario................. But that's how its works..... things work, you know, these, these things never work out the way you imagined them, in the real sense of... kind of, the balance of the universe and the reality of the situation..................... the balance of the universe says there is patriarchy that’s why women feel like shit! Balance of the universe says there is racism, that’s why people feel like shit.... balance of the universe is that we breed hatred...and violence...... and individuality, separation, disconnection........... We’ve made our mistakes along the way....................... Totally not thinking about...... talking right now, actually I should talk out loud I guess, that’s the whole point.. Um.... wondering, if I should, talk you all the way to the door?....... or talk.......... all the way....... to here basically, like, where do I stop?..................... I need my keys, that’s what I’m doing and there is a guy, camping in a tent in the park behind my building...