My friend and I decided to take a trip to the far north side of town. In the industrial area, off to the corner, there’s a place blocked off for a mountain bike park that the cities provided. The park is full of boxes and jumps all ranging different experience levels, and during the winter it makes a great place to snowboard. I’m by no means a professional and probably never will be, but the sport itself is a rush and a thrill that makes it very enjoyable. The snow was not great, but we managed to create a decent run out of three bike jumps, one-after the other. It was a great time, just hanging out and riding a session. I had my camera, so I put together a short clip of our day. Enjoy.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Monday, December 27, 2010
Calmness of Loneliness
Here you go internet viewers - this is an honest burst of true expression. I am settled nicely within the constraints of the place I consider home. It is a rented place, which I share with my girlfriend. She is amazing, but she is visiting parents, and I have decided to take(ing) advantage of some lonely peace which I sometimes crave. My alone time is never calm, well to the naked eye it may look like it, but inside, my mind is racing.
The thoughts run so fast, and in a moments grasp, I struggle to keep up with them. Writing has become my niche, something that I strive to achieve in some way. My mind is always racing with ideas, and sometimes when I feel I have a good one, the opportunity is poor to strike. When things are busy, school, work, homework, and making sure I spend time with my girl, it can be tormenting letting the good moments go to waste.
Spending the entire day alone, pre-meditating the idea of relaxation, peace, and non-mental stimulation, I spend nearly the entire day working on a novel, trying develop a screenplay (which I know absolutely nothing about), and even finding myself drawn to the blog world.
It’s something that I don’t really understand, but when I can let people hear my voice, I feel a sense of power in it. My words seem so drowned out by the commotion of the crowed. I am just one single human being, facing the world from my own perception, trying to preserve a glimpse of it that might live it’s days past mine.
It’s past 1:30am and I am completely awake. I should be sleeping, trying to keep my body healthy, but my mind keeps turning, like a set of gears, fulfilling their purpose. When I started my blog I posted pictures all over it, mostly mediocre ones that I snapped while wandering town and trips, etc. It was all just to attract followers, but I stopped, and gave my blog a bland, probably non-attractive look to fill up with writings, and writings only. It’s what I do, it’s what I love, so why not share the true me? Pictures of random shit doesn't really define the messages that I try to communicate, so the beauty of language is what I produce, if I try to be a photographer, I’m only faking it.
The thoughts run so fast, and in a moments grasp, I struggle to keep up with them. Writing has become my niche, something that I strive to achieve in some way. My mind is always racing with ideas, and sometimes when I feel I have a good one, the opportunity is poor to strike. When things are busy, school, work, homework, and making sure I spend time with my girl, it can be tormenting letting the good moments go to waste.
Spending the entire day alone, pre-meditating the idea of relaxation, peace, and non-mental stimulation, I spend nearly the entire day working on a novel, trying develop a screenplay (which I know absolutely nothing about), and even finding myself drawn to the blog world.
It’s something that I don’t really understand, but when I can let people hear my voice, I feel a sense of power in it. My words seem so drowned out by the commotion of the crowed. I am just one single human being, facing the world from my own perception, trying to preserve a glimpse of it that might live it’s days past mine.
It’s past 1:30am and I am completely awake. I should be sleeping, trying to keep my body healthy, but my mind keeps turning, like a set of gears, fulfilling their purpose. When I started my blog I posted pictures all over it, mostly mediocre ones that I snapped while wandering town and trips, etc. It was all just to attract followers, but I stopped, and gave my blog a bland, probably non-attractive look to fill up with writings, and writings only. It’s what I do, it’s what I love, so why not share the true me? Pictures of random shit doesn't really define the messages that I try to communicate, so the beauty of language is what I produce, if I try to be a photographer, I’m only faking it.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Yet Another Scene,
As I’ve failed to keep you updated with over the holidays, here is another scene from my writings. In this scene, John is being introduced to the life of ‘Chad,’ a friend that complimented on his belligerent behaviour during class. This is John’s first time seeing the depths of Chad’s secret lair. Enjoy,
“Hey Sylvester” he said, petting an orange and white striped one as it purred at his legs. The sight of all those cats made me think of the crazy cat woman that lived down the street from me. She was so stereotypical, old and angry, but she loved her cats. In his room it was a different story. He had a giant flat screen TV, a shelf of movies, video games, CDs, and like three computer towers all hooked up to one another with surround sound speakers.
“Holy fuck.” I gasped.
“You like it? This room is where I escape the world. Or I guess I study it.” He turned on his massive TV, which he used as a monitor and went on the internet.
“Yeah it’s awesome.” I replied
“Hey John, if you could hack into anybodies computer who’s would you hack?” he asked in a curious tone.
“Hmm, well” I thought hard to try and give him an answer. What would I want to hack? I mean, there are so many things that would be awesome. I could change my information; change my grades, or my bank account. What if you could just add a couple of zero’s to the current number of my account balance to make life allot easier? “My bank account balance.” I answered.
“Oh yeah, that would be a good one. What bank are you through?”
“Um, BCE” I replied.
“Hmm” he squinted towards the screen that took up half his wall as if he could barely see it while he navigated to my banks website. “These guys have good security.” He replied. I thought he was just joking, trying to make it look like he was some professional hacker or something. I’m sure he wasn’t professional, but he seemed to know what he was doing. He made the computer go into some weird mode that was all numbers and signs like “<” with a line of words and “>**95673645.aza) 9000” something like that. None of it made sense but he typed things and made it look pretty real. “What’s your bank number?” he asked. There was no chance I’d give a complete stranger my bank information. “You need to tell me if you want your balance changed.” He replied.
“No way! I’m not giving you my account information. How do I know you’re not just going to steal from me or something?” I asked.
“I guess you won’t, but you won’t get a bigger balance either.” He replied. I couldn’t believe it; I mean his house was a piece of trash. He would have tons of money if he really knows how to do what he claimed he could, so I didn’t give it to him.
“Hey Sylvester” he said, petting an orange and white striped one as it purred at his legs. The sight of all those cats made me think of the crazy cat woman that lived down the street from me. She was so stereotypical, old and angry, but she loved her cats. In his room it was a different story. He had a giant flat screen TV, a shelf of movies, video games, CDs, and like three computer towers all hooked up to one another with surround sound speakers.
“Holy fuck.” I gasped.
“You like it? This room is where I escape the world. Or I guess I study it.” He turned on his massive TV, which he used as a monitor and went on the internet.
“Yeah it’s awesome.” I replied
“Hey John, if you could hack into anybodies computer who’s would you hack?” he asked in a curious tone.
“Hmm, well” I thought hard to try and give him an answer. What would I want to hack? I mean, there are so many things that would be awesome. I could change my information; change my grades, or my bank account. What if you could just add a couple of zero’s to the current number of my account balance to make life allot easier? “My bank account balance.” I answered.
“Oh yeah, that would be a good one. What bank are you through?”
“Um, BCE” I replied.
“Hmm” he squinted towards the screen that took up half his wall as if he could barely see it while he navigated to my banks website. “These guys have good security.” He replied. I thought he was just joking, trying to make it look like he was some professional hacker or something. I’m sure he wasn’t professional, but he seemed to know what he was doing. He made the computer go into some weird mode that was all numbers and signs like “<” with a line of words and “>**95673645.aza) 9000” something like that. None of it made sense but he typed things and made it look pretty real. “What’s your bank number?” he asked. There was no chance I’d give a complete stranger my bank information. “You need to tell me if you want your balance changed.” He replied.
“No way! I’m not giving you my account information. How do I know you’re not just going to steal from me or something?” I asked.
“I guess you won’t, but you won’t get a bigger balance either.” He replied. I couldn’t believe it; I mean his house was a piece of trash. He would have tons of money if he really knows how to do what he claimed he could, so I didn’t give it to him.
Reading John Updike on a Kobo E-reader
If anyone is interested, I received Kobo e-book reader for Christmas. I had wanted one really bad, and to tell you the truth, I think it’s amazing. When I opened it, I instantly started reading, nearly every chance that I could find throughout the holiday. I sound like a spokesperson talking about it, but it is truly great. It already has nearly 150 books pre-downloaded to it, like a personal library you can carry around with you. Some of the books already on it are true classics such as pride and prejudice, The Adventures of Huckleberry Fin, and loads of others. The free section even has some great picks.
Anyways, I downloaded The Widows of Eastwick by John Updike and started reading it. I love Updike’s style of writing, how he manages to dig so deep into the desires of his characters. The story takes place in the view of an elderly widow, trying to get on with her life away from her husband. It was very difficult to imagine John writing this, as he has done such an amazing job placing him-self into a female voice. One of my English teachers absolutely loves Updike, mostly I think because he is an established Canadian writer. Digging into this type of book is outside of what I would usually pick up, but the experience is definitely worth it to check out. His style, voice, and everything is just so different from the ordinary. He captures feelings in a profound depth, and the way he speaks of things that I’ve actually seen is so accurate, it nearly gives me goosebumps.
Anyways, I downloaded The Widows of Eastwick by John Updike and started reading it. I love Updike’s style of writing, how he manages to dig so deep into the desires of his characters. The story takes place in the view of an elderly widow, trying to get on with her life away from her husband. It was very difficult to imagine John writing this, as he has done such an amazing job placing him-self into a female voice. One of my English teachers absolutely loves Updike, mostly I think because he is an established Canadian writer. Digging into this type of book is outside of what I would usually pick up, but the experience is definitely worth it to check out. His style, voice, and everything is just so different from the ordinary. He captures feelings in a profound depth, and the way he speaks of things that I’ve actually seen is so accurate, it nearly gives me goosebumps.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Desire for Vengeance
This is a scene between the characters Scott/Mr. Thompson (the principle of John's school) and Linda (Scott's wife). Within this scene, Scott is venting to his wife about the vengeance he strives to seek against his brothers murderer.
“Are you joking?” he asked, “You know what will happen if I let the justice system take care of it?”
She just looked at him with her mouth open unable to speak. She muttered, but felt silenced by the lump that seemed to be lodged in her throat.
He burst out, “They will do nothing or at the worst he might end up in a government paid vacation center. They feed them, give them free classes, take them for walks, give them gym equipment, they probably all become best friends, it’s a joke of a punishment is what it is. I’m going to get vengeance on my brother’s murderer if it’s the last thing I do, even if I have to die for it.”
Linda looked up at her husband’s behaviour and struggled not to cry. She was terrified at the anger that he possessed, the lengths he was about to take, she couldn’t imagine her husband not being with her and she didn’t want to lose him. “You can’t do that Scott.” she cried, “Please just don’t.” She looked at him in the eyes to judge if he was actually thinking about it or not. He looked emotionless except for a movement in his eyebrows that made him almost look like he was possessed. “You don’t even know that he was murdered!”
“It’s been almost two weeks and he hasn’t shown up yet, probably because someone tried to cover up their murder. I’m going to find out who murdered him and I will find them.” he reassured her.
“Are you joking?” he asked, “You know what will happen if I let the justice system take care of it?”
She just looked at him with her mouth open unable to speak. She muttered, but felt silenced by the lump that seemed to be lodged in her throat.
He burst out, “They will do nothing or at the worst he might end up in a government paid vacation center. They feed them, give them free classes, take them for walks, give them gym equipment, they probably all become best friends, it’s a joke of a punishment is what it is. I’m going to get vengeance on my brother’s murderer if it’s the last thing I do, even if I have to die for it.”
Linda looked up at her husband’s behaviour and struggled not to cry. She was terrified at the anger that he possessed, the lengths he was about to take, she couldn’t imagine her husband not being with her and she didn’t want to lose him. “You can’t do that Scott.” she cried, “Please just don’t.” She looked at him in the eyes to judge if he was actually thinking about it or not. He looked emotionless except for a movement in his eyebrows that made him almost look like he was possessed. “You don’t even know that he was murdered!”
“It’s been almost two weeks and he hasn’t shown up yet, probably because someone tried to cover up their murder. I’m going to find out who murdered him and I will find them.” he reassured her.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Blogger's the Imformation Seeker
I meant for this to somewhat be a satire dealing with the whole idea of blogger and Google. John and Jessica are discussing plans to attempt to find a way clean out of their situation in this scene. This is one of my favourite parts in my story,so I really hope you do enjoy it.
“That’s what we’re doing.”
“On a laptop?” I asked.
“Yeah - Where else could we find information to dispose of two bodies?”
This girl was smart. I thought maybe we did have a chance. Who better to seek information from then the other psycho’s on the internet? There’s nothing you can’t find on Google. She searched the words, “how do you dispose a human body?”
The searches were endless. I went through page after page weighing the consequences of every idea that could be posted.
I found a random blog page with everyone’s ideas and this is what sparked the creativity.
The first one read,
“Place the body in a bunch of ammonia and let it chill out until it is completely dissolved. You should cover it in plastic so that the smell doesn’t make it to your neighbour’s house and raise suspicion. Place bowls of baking soda around the bathroom, use air fresheners. Be careful all of the parts are dissolved enough that they won’t back up the sewer system. That would be a sure way of being caught. When you get it completely drained, that’s it, you have a body gone from the face of the earth.”
Only if it was that easy I thought. I needed more ideas so we kept searching through but nothing but basic ideas from people who have obviously never been in the situation. One finally caught my attention.
“The hardest part of disposing a body is trying to not raise any suspicion when doing it. If you’re out in your backyard digging a hole, someone is going to notice. Try dissolving it and not have the stench of chemical and decomposing flesh seep into your neighbours or anyone else’s senses. The best way to get rid of a body is to slowly transport it piece by piece. It’s allot easier to dig a hole big enough for a hand or a thigh without anyone raising any suspicion then it is for someone to bury an entire body. If someone’s dog digs up an entire body, you’re busted. If it digs up a finger, it’s a likely chance it will be mistaken for an animal or eaten before it could even get a chance to be seen...”
The descriptions went on for another four paragraphs giving in depth detail about what I needed to do. It sickened me to know that that situation was common, but the knowledge was definately useful.
“That’s what we’re doing.”
“On a laptop?” I asked.
“Yeah - Where else could we find information to dispose of two bodies?”
This girl was smart. I thought maybe we did have a chance. Who better to seek information from then the other psycho’s on the internet? There’s nothing you can’t find on Google. She searched the words, “how do you dispose a human body?”
The searches were endless. I went through page after page weighing the consequences of every idea that could be posted.
I found a random blog page with everyone’s ideas and this is what sparked the creativity.
The first one read,
“Place the body in a bunch of ammonia and let it chill out until it is completely dissolved. You should cover it in plastic so that the smell doesn’t make it to your neighbour’s house and raise suspicion. Place bowls of baking soda around the bathroom, use air fresheners. Be careful all of the parts are dissolved enough that they won’t back up the sewer system. That would be a sure way of being caught. When you get it completely drained, that’s it, you have a body gone from the face of the earth.”
Only if it was that easy I thought. I needed more ideas so we kept searching through but nothing but basic ideas from people who have obviously never been in the situation. One finally caught my attention.
“The hardest part of disposing a body is trying to not raise any suspicion when doing it. If you’re out in your backyard digging a hole, someone is going to notice. Try dissolving it and not have the stench of chemical and decomposing flesh seep into your neighbours or anyone else’s senses. The best way to get rid of a body is to slowly transport it piece by piece. It’s allot easier to dig a hole big enough for a hand or a thigh without anyone raising any suspicion then it is for someone to bury an entire body. If someone’s dog digs up an entire body, you’re busted. If it digs up a finger, it’s a likely chance it will be mistaken for an animal or eaten before it could even get a chance to be seen...”
The descriptions went on for another four paragraphs giving in depth detail about what I needed to do. It sickened me to know that that situation was common, but the knowledge was definately useful.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Hesitation to Arson
Like I promised, here is another scene from my novel.
This is an introduction to Jessica, a beautiful seductive female who John, the main character has fallen completely in love with. In this scene she is suggesting arson, which to John seems dangerous and exciting, but he doesn't have any idea what he's really getting into.
She looked into my eyes, creating a moment; it was something special but unexplainable. She continued driving. I had no idea where we were, but we were on our way to get gasoline so that we could burn down her father’s BMW and I don’t think she could have been as animated as I was. “Once my car is gone, there is no evidence for my existence here with my new identity.” stated Jessica. She didn’t turn her head to look at me but kept her glance out at the distance while she drove. “I had a fake ID made so that no one could track me down. This is the perfect plan.”
We pulled into a small gas station out in the middle of nowhere. It was an aged white building – the paint was peeling off of the edge, creating a classic rotting look and the road leading up to it was made of loose gravel.
Jessica stepped out of the car. Her long slender legs walked towards the pump, hips shaking with every step. She had a brand new jerry can in her hand from her trunk, as if she had already planned out the plot. I watched her fill it up, bring it back to the trunk, and she walked inside with the most trusting and honest look on her face to pay for it. I followed her in to grab a drink or something for us to share and I watched her. She went up, looked the clerk straight in the eyes and ordered the fuel that was going to create beautiful splendor destruction. Then she will be stuck here with me, I thought excitedly, forgetting about Stacy for the moment.
I walked up to the counter, trying to seem as confident as I could be. I became over conscious about my breathing and believed that I was breathing extremely fast. It was as if I was having palpitations, but I knew it was all an allusion from the massive adrenaline rush that was shaking my nerves. The long few seconds it took me to buy my drinks were soon over and I made my way to the car where I got in the passenger seat next to her. Again, we continued driving.
“Where do you think we should take it?” she asked whike I looked around at the passing fields.
“Why don’t we just drive it into the center of one of these fields or in the forest somewhere?” I suggested.
“Let’s do it in the forest. There’s less chance anyone will catch us doing it out there.” Enthusiasm and certainty rang from her voice.
“Okay. Jessica, are you sure you want to destroy this car? What if you’re making a mistake? Your dad’s not that bad is he?” I started to reason, getting a little nervous.
“You don’t know the half of it!” she snarled.
“Okay, Sorry.” I quicky replied, feeling kind of nervous.
This is an introduction to Jessica, a beautiful seductive female who John, the main character has fallen completely in love with. In this scene she is suggesting arson, which to John seems dangerous and exciting, but he doesn't have any idea what he's really getting into.
She looked into my eyes, creating a moment; it was something special but unexplainable. She continued driving. I had no idea where we were, but we were on our way to get gasoline so that we could burn down her father’s BMW and I don’t think she could have been as animated as I was. “Once my car is gone, there is no evidence for my existence here with my new identity.” stated Jessica. She didn’t turn her head to look at me but kept her glance out at the distance while she drove. “I had a fake ID made so that no one could track me down. This is the perfect plan.”
We pulled into a small gas station out in the middle of nowhere. It was an aged white building – the paint was peeling off of the edge, creating a classic rotting look and the road leading up to it was made of loose gravel.
Jessica stepped out of the car. Her long slender legs walked towards the pump, hips shaking with every step. She had a brand new jerry can in her hand from her trunk, as if she had already planned out the plot. I watched her fill it up, bring it back to the trunk, and she walked inside with the most trusting and honest look on her face to pay for it. I followed her in to grab a drink or something for us to share and I watched her. She went up, looked the clerk straight in the eyes and ordered the fuel that was going to create beautiful splendor destruction. Then she will be stuck here with me, I thought excitedly, forgetting about Stacy for the moment.
I walked up to the counter, trying to seem as confident as I could be. I became over conscious about my breathing and believed that I was breathing extremely fast. It was as if I was having palpitations, but I knew it was all an allusion from the massive adrenaline rush that was shaking my nerves. The long few seconds it took me to buy my drinks were soon over and I made my way to the car where I got in the passenger seat next to her. Again, we continued driving.
“Where do you think we should take it?” she asked whike I looked around at the passing fields.
“Why don’t we just drive it into the center of one of these fields or in the forest somewhere?” I suggested.
“Let’s do it in the forest. There’s less chance anyone will catch us doing it out there.” Enthusiasm and certainty rang from her voice.
“Okay. Jessica, are you sure you want to destroy this car? What if you’re making a mistake? Your dad’s not that bad is he?” I started to reason, getting a little nervous.
“You don’t know the half of it!” she snarled.
“Okay, Sorry.” I quicky replied, feeling kind of nervous.
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