New Blog

Hey y'all. I got a new blog and won't be posting on here anymore. If you find my material interesting, check out http://fictitiousimpression.tumblr.com/

A Nice Suprise

After leaving my shift at six in the morning, I made my way to the shop, weary, tired, and sick feeling. I pulled up to my dad’s truck—the one I was borrowing, and unlocked the door. Something felt off but I couldn’t understand what. I started it to let it warm up and shut the door, but as it slammed closed I could hear bits of something falling inside the truck. I opened the door and took a better look, realizing there were pieces of glass scattered all over the inside of the cab. The back window had a massive hole through it, with shards of tempered class jagged around the edges. I shook my head and mumbled the words ‘fuck’ to myself, not knowing how to react. I went into the work truck and called my dad.

            
“Hello,” I said.

            
“Hey. How’re you?”

            
“Not so good.”

            
There was a slight pause before he asked, “What’s wrong?

            
“Someone,” I stopped, not wanting to inflict him with any more troubles than he already had, then continued, “someone smashed out the back window of your truck while I was at work.” I awaited his long drawn out sigh before asking, “Do you think it could have been him?”

           
“I don’t know. This really sucks. Go to Joe’s and I’ll call him to help you cover it up.”

            
My exhaustion forced me to dread the idea. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and go to sleep. I told him, “There’s glass everywhere. I can’t drive it like this” and asked, “Should I call the police?”

            
“Just clean it up and get it covered. You can call the police after.”

            
I groaned and said I’d call him back and phoned my boss to tell him what happened. He told me to call the police, so I did, and after leaving a report I worked on removing the bits of glass from the drivers seat. I tried taping garbage bags across the window but it was too cold for it to stick and I eventually gave up the idea. I called my dad back and told him, “I’m going to drive it home like this. The tape won’t stick and I’m tired and have to go to bed.”

            
He said, “Okay” and that he’d meet me at my house to fix it, but before I left two police cars came into the parking lot wanting a written report.

            
The police officer asked me to get in the back seat of her car, which I did willingly, and I uncomfortably sat there, feeling like a prisoner, waiting for her to come back. When she did, she flooded me with a series of questions after I gave my personal report of what happened. First was, “Why do you think that it was him who did this?” 

Some Artwork I Created With Spray Paint

A Breeze

Neon Bird

Neon Bird Reversed

James Blunt

Who Owl

Angel Brings Light

Midnight

​“Isn’t it great that spring is finally here?” I asked.

​We sat upon the deck, underneath the blanket of darkness that night had brought with delight. The clouds seemed to glow, picking up the radiation of the streetlamps, and they parted, like a curtain revealing the opening of a new show, to the glow of the constellations, which glimmered with rejoice in their awakening.

​When I brought my gaze from the sky I noticed that Lucy had been staring at the gravel alleyway in the distance in discontent. I asked, “What’s wrong my love?” and waited through her drawn out sigh for a reply.

​“I don’t like spring,” she admitted, hesitantly, and then added, “It’s so repulsing.”

​“How so?” My attention still remained on the stars, which seemed to become brighter the longer I stared towards them. As my vision shifted, more were revealed, and it became difficult to look away.

​She answered my question while I remained transfixed at the midnight sky. “The snow always leaves behind a disgusting display of human waste. The roads are always littered with salt rocks, mud, and litter, and it always gets all over the place. The house is always muddy, with dirt and slosh brought in from our shoes. There’s puddles everywhere that always manage to find their way through my shoes and destroy my good socks. Everything’s cold, wet, and dirty.” She whimpered with displeasure.

In an attempt to persuade her views on the season I suggested that ​“It’s only temporary, and then we're blessed with summers warmth.”

​“I like summer!” she exclaimed, “I just don’t like everything in between. It’s a horrid part of nature.”

​“But Lucy, is it not like everything’s being renewed?" I provided her with the analogy that, "It's like we are witnessing the birth of seasons--a renewal of life.”

​By this time I had diverted my thoughts from the stars, giving her my full attention. She looked at me in disgust, wrinkling her nose and shrugging her eyebrows. “Birth is one of the most disgusting things to exist."

I felt revolted at the comment, believing that every woman had an appreciation for the birth of life. It altered the security of our relationship with conflicts of family expectations.

It’s dirty, bloody, and atrocious, just like spring,” she went on, destroying the euphoria my beliefs had secured. ​I sat quietly trying to accept her judgments. Her words continued but I had distanced my attention from her while I pondered the inaccuracies of my own perceptions.

Some time later while lying next to her, my mind was trapped in fifth gear and wouldn't slow down. My beliefs, expectations, and securities changed frequently, but things just remained either way. The world seemed to shift uncontrollably, like a ship at sail, and with the possibility of death with the swaying of each wave. The mind, reality, the deception between two minds--it creates nothing but inconsistency.

​Noticing that I was awake she pointed out, “It’s been almost two years since we’ve lived with each other.”

I didn't respond, or know how to. Her tone suggested she wanted a change. I had pondered the idea of searching for a better suited parter, but dismissed it with the acceptance of security. She loved me, cherished me, and I was supposed to be the one with discontent. I was blind to the actuality of our unhappiness.

She asked me, ​“What do you think our relationship is going to be?”

​“I don't know?” I didn't think our current state would have changed much.

The room sat eerily awaiting something to be spoken and unhappy with my reply, she was the first to commit. “What is going to happen with us?”

​“What do you want?” No answer would have soothed that moment. I believe that no one really knows what they are searching for. A moment of happiness suddenly overtook my realization of loss. Past memories shared flooded my mind, like a lucid dream, I relived the moments as if watching a painful film.

​The flickering light of a candle bounced its illumination on the wall, as if dancing to the chant of a divine presence. “Look how it makes the waves of that painting seem as if it’s moving.” Lucy’s arm rested over me as we lied together on top of my bed. “It’s almost as if the candlelight makes it real. Doesn’t it seem like were looking through a window?”
​
“Sure.”

​“It makes me want to escape.”

​“You don’t like it here?” I asked.

​“Well...” she paused. “I like you. You're cute. So you should escape with me.”

​“Where shall we go?” I laughed at the thought.

​“Anywhere but here. Let’s just drive somewhere new. Fuck this place.”

​She sat up and turned on the night lamp that sat on a side table next to the bed. “Well,"she persisted, "Let’s go right now. It will be a spontaneous adventure!” She tugged at my arm, trying to pull me from my cozy slumber.

​“Right now?" I groaned. "It’s already past midnight, and I have to work tomorrow.”

"You hate your job. And I don't want to come back. Let's just leave this waste behind and start fresh. We can become whoever, whatever we want. The possibilities are infinite. It will be a new life, how we want, with us."

It was her eager ambition and spontaneous drive that I fell in love with, that drove me to experience what I feared. I was in need of a push, and she pushed me, but what good are memories when life is lived moment by moment? Thoughts of future happiness is what had driven me. We were both running away from a past, but stuck in the moment, and the farther we seemed to get, the worse things developed. The future seemed dismal and unappetizing, but life goes on either way, and luckily it does, because confrontations of the unexpected are what make it an adventure.

Bits of a Dream

I've created a new song. Lately this has become an obsession of mine.

This song's titled Bits of a Dream.


Press The Play Button!
 Bits of a Dream by Mad Vibes 

a melodic mixture production

I started working on this yesterday (Friday November 12) in between study periods. I had no real intentions of trying to mix it into a song, but I became consumed by the project. By applying different instrument plugs, creating over 10 tracks, an enthusiasm to produce unique sounds, and no real knowledge of what I'm doing--this is the result. If you decide to listen please do give me your opinion.

The song is called: Insomnia

A time ago

Most days of the week after classes we would always hang out at Laura's place. She lived in an apartment building on the north end of town. The place was haggard. Right across the street from a prison. Pretty much as downtown as you could get. If I had to decide on what to consider the slums of that city, that was it, dead centre. It's not like any of us had nice places or any money considering we were students, but we managed to entertain ourselves with the little we had. As you walked into the lobby there were often homeless people trying to keep warm, begging for cigarettes, or at worst trying to follow us into the building.

This one guy was laying down across the front entrance wearing what looked like his entire wardrobe. He had a big beard and a stench of body door surrounded him. My nose stung as I walked past him but I tried  to ignore it so I wouldn't cause any issues. I pressed the buzzer.

"Hey," crackled Laura's voice through the intercom.

"It's me."

The clank of the door unlocking caused the man to get up. "Hey my friend lives here and I can't remember his apartment number. I know where his room is though," he tried to explain.

My heart raced. He looked like a junky and I'm sure that there were dealers for every drug within that complex. Gangs and guns and thugs, people pushing heroin, the most extreme. Maybe not, but it wouldn't have surprised me. So I told him, "I don't think it's a good idea." I should have just quickly walked in and pretended not to hear him. But I didn't.

"What do you mean, not a good idea? I have just as much right as you to come and visit my friends."

His argument was poor so I decided to indiscreetly call him out before sliding through the door and locking him out behind me. "At least I remember my friends apartment number. I told him, "That gives me more right than you." I reached for the handle but the man shoved himself in front if me, knocking me back a few steps. He reached for the handle but it had already relocked. I was trapped in the cubicle class corridor of the entrance with him.

"Your a little shit you know that? All I wanted was to visit my goddamn friend." He was starting to get hostile so I backed away and turned to leave. I imagined him coming up behind me and knifing me in the back or something, but I just didn't want to deal with him so I didn't look back.

"Where do you think your going?" he called at me. I could hear him following. "Come back here asshole," he shouted. I just kept walking, trying to ignore the harassment. The parking lot was a dark stretch, probably the worst place I could have turned. I was starting to panic just before a set of headlights turned in.

"Hey Sam, what are you doing wandering around out here? Your car is parked right by the door."

I jumped into Jack's front seat without answering.

"What's wrong?"

"Just drive, don't stay here. Someone is following me."

"Dude, just chill. No one is following you."

He must have seen the fear in me because he followed my directions.

"Where should I go?"

He had left the parking lot and turned onto the road facing the front entrance. As we went by I searched for the man. There was nobody to be seen anywhere, and the entrance was clear.

"This is stupid. There's no one anywhere. You're just trippin'."

I hesitated, but agreed, "Okay let's just go in then."

How did this occur?

You know that feeling when your sitting there, freaking out inside, but you just sit there trying to compose yourself? You can feel you heart beating against your rib cage, blood trying to push out of your ears. That's what stress does.

"It won't be that bad," she warned. But she didn't tell me I was going in alone. She told me we were partners, half and half, but it started to feel like I was getting pushed into all of the dirty work.

"I'm not doing that," I told her.

"You have no choice. He said it's you or no one. We can't get in any other way."

I didn't say anything right away while she stared at me. I wanted to say no. I wanted to overpower her glare, but it had no mercy over me. "There's no other way?" I asked, already knowing what the answer was.

"There's no other way Ollie." She was the only person to ever call me Ollie besides my parents. The situation I was in was a result of me trying to impress her. "You know you can be a real chicken shit sometimes. You told me once that you were fearless."

She was right, I did say that, but I didn't imagine what was happening.

"Think about all of the people we will disappoint. Think about how made we will be."

I finally worked up the courage to say, "Fine. I'll do it," but I didn't know if I actually would. It was more of a way to avoid dealing with the situation for a little bit.

"Just relax," she suggested. "Why do you have to be so tense all the time?"

I replied with a subtle shrug. "I guess it's just in my nature." I have pondered her suggestion, those simple words, 'just relax.' It seems so simple, yet it's impossible.

"Let's go to my place. I'll help you relax." She winked a naughty gesture. I knew exactly what was planning.

I least I thought I did.

A Moment of Clarity - Continued... (Scene 4)

            When I made it to the top of the cliff I was panting heavily. I stopped to look around at the houses that surrounded the area. They were all massive estates, obviously dwellings for the rich. I thought about ringing one of their bells but to tell you the truth I felt intimidated. My house was only about five blocks from where we were so I grabbed my bike and made my way. Of course I didn’t have my phone on me because I left it at home during our excursions so that I would have no outside distractions from those joyous moments. I was also scared that I would ruin it.

            I lightly peddled enjoying the crisp feeling of the fall air not really thinking about the pain I had left Colton in. I don’t know why exactly but I decided to not find help. Although he was my best friend he was a prick and I enjoyed the thought of him suffering. It was an act of vengeance, one I’m not so proud of, but that’s what you get for getting with your best friends girlfriend.

            Kendra was her name, a petite and very attractive girl that I gave my heart to in grade ten. She was my first lover and I must say she was good at it. Her body was perfect but her mind was evil. We dated for two years before I found out that Colton fucked her, and not just once. He was doing it routinely behind my back for months. When I found out I freaked on both of them, making Kendra fill with tears and temporarily discarding Colton as a friend. After about three months of him begging for forgiveness I decided to allow him back into my life because unfortunately, we were best friends. He was pretty much my only friend. But now he was going to finally pay for what he’d done so long ago.

            I walked into my house. My roommate Stan was watching a movie with his haggard looking girlfriend Tanya. She was completely disgusting in my eyes but I guess that would be because I compared her to the attractiveness of Kendra. She was still the only girl I loved despite our years never talking and the handful of pointless lays that have got me through our breakup.

            “Hey Nolan. What are you up too?” asked Stan.

            I replied, “Not much,” and left them to their business. Stan was not ugly and I couldn’t understand how he could lower his standards enough to accept a girl like Tanya. She was repulsive, the way she ate, the clothes she wore, her views on life, there was nothing I could find attractive about her. I hated the images of what their sex must be like, but to all there own I guess.

A Loss of Courage

            I was studying in the college library before class. My feet were rested on a coffee table surrounded with a couple chairs, one that I had claimed, and a couch. I had my laptop open on my lap and I was entranced in my work until I noticed someone sitting across from me.

            A girl whom I’ve never seen before sat down and opened her binder to study. She sat passively and to me she seemed lonely. As soon as I noticed her I had trouble paying attention to my work. I glanced at her, probably more than would be socially appropriate, but it was hard not to. I didn’t know if she even acknowledged me but she was absolutely gorgeous! The most attractive girl I’ve ever seen.

            Her eyes were light blue, her hair as dark as it could be and she sat innocently while I struggled to build enough confidence to try and start a conversation with her. I couldn’t find the words to say and I didn’t want to look intrusive so I just continued reading, thinking about what I should do. The clock was ticking and I had fifteen minutes before my next class and time was running out.

            I took out my notebook and wrote my name and number. I thought that maybe if I gave it to her before leaving she might call me back, or if she didn’t at least I tried. My mind wandered with what to say. I thought that maybe if I said, ‘Excuse me. I have never done this before but you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,’ and gave her the piece of paper before leaving it might seem flattering to her. That was the idea I was going to do.

            I packed up my things, except for the piece of paper I wanted to give her and walked up to her. I was about to say something when I lost all words. My heart was pounding and I couldn’t do it. I put the piece of paper into my pocket and walked to class never saying a word.

The Play

My mind seems to wander in a circle with no end

Like a road that keeps going, one which I depend

On the art that surrounds me, the most indirect

It's the things that go on I’d never suspect

Through a changing perceptions the clouds change their form

From light to dark my surroundings forlorn

But just for a moment until I push them away

You’ll always be the same because that’s how you stay

Inside my own world apart from the rest

This is a place where I sometimes feel best

A tree loses its texture but next spring it will bloom

But we’re all part of a play so never assume

A Moment of Clarity - Continued (scene 3)

(Part 3) 

           “Let’s wander down through the woods,” suggested Colton one time.

            “Yeah that might be fun,” I replied. It was one of those grey colorless days where everything seemed awkwardly still. The leaves were starting to turn their fall colors and were piling on the streets from the shedding of their summer dress. We were cruising the streets on bikes, me with a bright green cruiser and Colton with a black BMX. We often wandered the streets in search of ideas for films and searching for artistic scenery.

            “Check this path out." suggested Colton, "we have to take it.” He pointed to a cliffs edge. “If we climb to that ledge and use those vines to cross that part,” he pointed, “we can make it to that ridge and take the path down next to the river.”

            It seemed dangerous, but thrilling, so I accepted the idea so I ditched my bike against a tree and started climbing, but let him take lead.

            “Watch it,” I warned him. He wasn’t taking any time to try and swing himself down with style. So many terrible images went through my head of what would happen if one of us fell.

            “Stop being such a pussy Nolan.”

            “Fuck you,” I laughed and I tossed a small branch at him. The moment I threw it I realized he wasn’t paying attention and I remember the feeling of regret as soon as it left my hand and started whirling towards my face. It seemed almost slow motion and just as it was reaching him he turned his head and it stuck right into his eye. He screamed and let his grip off from the branch and slipped down a steep dirt edge through shrubs and bushes. I felt comfort by the fact that it was bushes rather than rock but when that blood-curdling scream rang from below I knew something terrible must have been wrong.

I asked him if he was okay and he shouted, “I think my leg is broken, it hurts so bad. Oh my god Nolan you need to get help.”

I climbed down to reach him and I wish I didn’t. The sight was grotesque. He had landed in between two logs and broke his leg at his shin and the force must have pulled him hard because it was completely bend as if he had two knees on that leg. He was so pale white he looked like a ghost. “It’s broken. It’s so broken,” he whimpered, “You need to get help.”

“Where should I go?” I looked up the large cliff edge I’d have to climb to reach civilization and tried to understand how help could even get to the location we were at.

            His helpless struggling eyes stared deep into me while he cried, “Please just find someone, I need help Nolan!”

            I panicked, turned and left him, and made my way up the cliff to get out of the forest and back into the city center. 

A Moment of Clarity - Continued...

(part 2)

That doesn’t bother me, but what does is that no one pays any attention to anything that I throw on it. I take as much time as I can, try to act as professional as I can, and I always manage to convince anyone I decide to use in my parts and create films that are somewhat how I envision them. But still there is never any traffic on any of my sites. I’m not sure weather it’s my “networking” skills or if it’s because I trust Colton with my media output. He is my partner in this ordeal, the profession which we’ve both obsessed since high school, so naturally he's become my partner in business.

            We both took a class that was supposed to be a photography workbook beginner tech class in high school but we convinced Mr. Lukas, our teacher, that we were worthy of taking film early. The film portion of the class was supposed to be for third year students only but with a bit of sly talking Colton and I took that class for the entire three years of high school and skipped all pre-rec work. “I already know about different lenses, the aperture, contrast, shutter speeds, lighting angles, my dad is really big into photography,” I told him, which was a lie. My dad wouldn’t know how to turn on a camera let alone become an expert with one. If it wasn’t something heavy that he could pick up than it didn’t matter to him. “If you let me into the third year program I could spend three years creating a masterpiece, rather than one, and it could be something big.” I tried desperately to convince him that I was some prodigy and he fell for it.

            “Okay, okay Nolan.” He stretched out his words has he thought about how to deal with me. “I think that we could work something out but you will at least have to take a test on the basics of photography so I can get permission from the school board to let you do this.”

            “Sure,” I replied and that was that. The test took maybe ten minutes and an hour every day became nothing but creating films with friends. We’d always have friends skip their classes, or get permission even, to come and film during our tech class. When we all turned sixteen and started getting cars the class became even more fun. We rented out cameras, got in our cars and took off, usually not even taking the time to turn on the camera within the hour of class. We’d have races through gravel roads, highways sometimes, even through town, and we planned our destinations over cell phone usually with passengers doing the talking. We’d come up with games, such as hide and seek. One time we even drove out into the country, kicked out Mark, who was the easiest to manipulate, and everyone else shot fireworks at him while he ran from us. He trotted in a pool of adrenaline as flame balls zipped past his head, bounced against trees, the ground, and danced bright colors all around him. 

A Moment of Clarity

This is the beginning of a fictional piece I just recently started writing. I'm hoping to expand this piece to create a depiction of the city I have been living in, Red Deer, while using fictional characters and an exploration of the human psyche to express the truth behind the reality that exists.

Suddenly I’ve realized the truth behind my reality. I usually freaked out at social events because I hate not having loneliness. The dark confines of what makes up the inner chamber of my room is all I’ve been able to grow accustomed to. In any place I’ve ever called home there was always a room where I could escape the torture of others and call the space my own. My belongings, the little I needed to feel material satisfaction is always neatly packed neatly into whatever rented space I’ve managed to salvage.

            I disconnect from the world and live in a transcend state of focus. It could turn out good but I can never stay enthralled in one thing too long. It’s been music, an attempt to exploit my feelings through sound, mostly sticking to acoustic guitar, writing novels that I never get around to publish, or even try, video comedies created out of script I’ve written, documentaries, and the video’s I like to think are art that contain nothing but beautiful sceneries and the music I write while expressing how that moment taking the  photography made me feel.  

            Colton always convinced me that my talent could go somewhere. He pushed me to take my ideas further so that’s what I always did. I spent hour’s alone typing scripts to film with people I could gather up for the parts. I usually tried to create scripts out of the people around me so that I could use them as my subjects. It was a fun game, forming people’s lives, so that’s what became my goal.

            My parents hated my idea’s, my frame of mind, style, direction, they just hated all of what I stood for. My dad was the heavyweight tough guy type and my mom was the type who just followed and supported every idea or thought that he had no matter how rational it seemed.

            “Can you believe this kid,” he would say. “The runt of the family.” He would laugh it off as if it was no big deal but it was torture. I was different than my brother, the athletic one. I wasn’t unfit or anything, averagely built, but they obsessed about the stature of their bodies. “Eat shit,” I’d reply, wanting to say so much more but scared of the force behind those people. They became consumed by their obsession to a point that they were becoming angry monsters. My brother was three years older that me, a first place champion in high school football and he thought it gave him the right to torture, belittle, and push me into the ground as I grew up. I didn’t realize until I ran away that life could be so peaceful, so easy.

            I moved out on a low-end job with aspirations of making it as an independent filmmaker. I wanted to stick to my routs as a Canadian and try to express my city, Red Deer in the light that no one ever cared to share. Every place has its interactions, it’s feuds, it’s struggles and beuties, but it is only by the told that anything ever becomes known. I wanted to mean something, make my life something worthwhile, and that’s how the obsession of documentation came about in my life. It’s not just me who has it. I mean look at the world. It’s nothing but a bunch of people trying to mean something and we’ve become nothing but an endless form of media pushed by the public through the Internet with aspirations of acknowledgement.