Day Fourteen.

And it ends. As swiftly as it had come, it goes now into a memory, into the past.

It had occurred to me that there is a long stretch of silence between Day 4 and Day 14. What happened? Well, a whole lot, and perhaps, I think, not much worth mentioning. The ending of my grandfather came as a blow to my vacation, and put a blot right in the middle of my plans. My mood changed and I no longer had any desire to write anything. It was indeed with great effort that I moved on and that I find myself writing again. Even now the sadness has not fully faded away, and there may never be closure. I can think when I try not to think of what's gone and missed.

As I had said, it ends here. Without regret? I do not know; can anyone say that with certainty? There were days when I was so busy I had no knowledge of time passing. Then there were days when I did absolutely nothing, just passing the afternoon with sleep and spending hours resting on my chair. Now when I think back on this I feel it was never a waste. Be it resting or busying about, I spent those days quite well. I cannot recall everything that happened in the past ten days, but I will attempt to update what I did in a quick summary.

Right after the death I spent two days in mourning. That night friends of the family came over to see us. That was the day of my last blog entry. I attempted to write something but I fell apart midway through. I had not cried in a very long time, but that night everything came out. The next day I went out for a lunch with Ruth, and that evening we went for the temple to do a service. I was holding up fine that day until I saw all those people there with their sympathies, and that brought tears into my eyes. After the service ended they all congregated outside the temple and talked. I stood a fair distance away by myself, looking at the ground. The day after I was supposed to meet up with Alex, but I cancelled because some family friends came from Montreal. They were really surprised to see my physical change. I'm getting used to the compliments now, but it's always nice to hear them. Then came Saturday, MMA day. We spent half the class on Jiu-Jitsu and the other half on kickboxing. I didn't learn that much from the former, but during the latter half I picked up a lot of tips. I felt quite happy about myself and my progress.

Much of the next week was spent dazing off into space. Perhaps I needed that. At what other time can I truly do nothing? On Wednesday we had more MMA, but there was hardly anyone there, so we just worked on arm-triangle escapes. The next day Alex, Ruth, my brother, and I planned a trip to the Warsaw Caves in Warsaw, Ontario. This was one of the best adventures I've ever been on! We saw so much: from giant ball-shaped mushrooms, to bats, to a cross-dressing Asian man. When we arrived it was too late to buy firewood from the camp officials, so we had to drive into town to find a convenience store. We tried several with no luck. Finally we came to one with an Asian man who's face was completely white with makeup and wore red lipstick. He looked like a Geisha. He sold us enough firewood to last the night. Camping was a lot of fun. We ate barbecue, roasted marshmallows, and acted like a bunch of goofballs. When we snuffed the fire and everyone crawled into their tents I stayed outside by myself with a flashlight. I wrote this on my book:

I cannot see the stars anymore.
In this place everything is quiet; absolutely quiet.
And I cannot see anything outside my tiny pool of light.
The human body is such an impressive machine.
It can exist so far from home and still survive.
With whatever food or water it can gather,
it continues to live
hundreds of miles from home.

The sleep that night was broken. I was awoken by sudden sounds in the night, and the uncomfortable position my body was in inside that tent. Several times I would awake to check if my brother was okay and to double-check things I kept inside the tent. The next morning we packed all our belongings and headed for the caves. The Warsaw Caves were created by an enormous glacier receding away 12,000 years ago. As it melted it left behind a giant body of water, and there was evidence of its existence by the little "kettles" left behind on the rocks. Kettles are perfectly cylindrical holes drilled into the rock. They range from a several inches in diameter to about a metre (if i'm not mistaken). They were created by eddies in the ancient river that flowed here. The eddies trapped bits of rock and sand, and as they spun, they slowly drilled away the rock underneath, creating these deep holes. There were many of these kettles we saw on our journey. I noted that this whole forest was filled with moss and limestone rock. The ground rises up and falls down regularly, often into crevices. Some of these crevices lead deep under ground: these are the caves. Using clip-on lights on our caps, we crawled into these caves to explore. They were dark, cramped, cold, and wet. The space inside was so narrow and was arranged in awkward angles, so one had to always maneuver in such a way to fit between the walls. One could not afford to be claustrophobic. Inside the caves it was so dark. But we did see a bat at one point! It was so small and it was shaking in fear. We went through about 5 caves, and when we had enough we hiked the area. Jumping over cracks, climbing hills, skipping stones, examining animal droppings, slipping on rocks, finding mushrooms, we had the greatest time ever! But in the end I think it was the people that made the adventure. If it wasn't for Alex, Ruth, and Pavanth I don't think this trip would be what it was.

On Wednesday I have to go back to work. I don't feel sad about this. I don't dread this. Perhaps what I feel now is a sense of satisfaction; so much so that fear and anxiety is quelled. Hmm, if there's one lesson I learned from these two weeks off it's this: no matter how much time you have, you cannot accomplish everything you want. There will always be a million things unaccomplished. And now, where do I stand? I think I feel more sedated and pensive now. I find myself just sitting and being in silence. I hesitate to use the phrase at peace, because I don't know if my mind is all that peaceful. There are a dozen more things I want to do, but I need to be at a better place with my life to do all of it. We'll see. Thank you for reading.

Day Four.

So thus concludes the fourth day. It ends on a sombre note, although not as sad as I thought it would be. You see, my grandfather died yesterday night. It was probably about 24 hours ago from now. I was deeply affected by his loss today, and a part of me still is, albeit not so deeply.

My grandfather was a very strong and dominant man. In his youth he was involved in politics; he once related to me the stories of his involvement in the Communist Party of Sri Lanka. He was a born leader, and was never one to be tied down to this world. Even as he aged he maintained that powerful stature to him. I don't have any memory of my father's parents, for they died when I was very young. But my mother's parents, of which he's her father, I have very clear memories of. My grandfather and my grandmother came to Canada a couple of times, staying with us for long stretches at a time. They were the ones that took care of me when I was young boy in Sri Lanka and during my teen years here in Canada. When I was with them I felt very much at peace. Their conversations weren't like those of my parents: busy, pragmatic, and hurried. They talked mostly about their past; memories of times long past yet to them seemed so near. I don't know my grandfather's history as well as I do my grandmother's. I do recall my grandma saying how much of a playboy he was. And I remember my mom saying how my grandma asked him to change his hairstyle in the way of a famous Sri Lankan actor (kind of wavy and combed back), and he had that look his entire life. As a child I got my affinity for stories by listening to them talk. When I heard them regaling a story it was very different from the entertainment I received on TV. Their stories were peaceful, and drawn out, including seemingly useless details, to paint an accurate picture, but without any real plot. It was like being in a timeless park, where it was just the green grass, blue sky, and the white clouds all day; and you had forgotten why you're there or where you had to go. This is what I remember of their stories. At some point my grandparents moved back to Sri Lanka because they found Canada too stifling to their way of life (they were very active and energetic people, and here they had nothing to do). I didn't speak to them for many years then. I would occasionally speak to them over the phone -- actually, as I typed that, I realized the last time they called I didn't want to speak to them because I felt it was just a waste of time as they would just be asking the same old questions about what I'm studying, how much longer it would be, and I would give the same answers in the same tone. I told my parents I was busy and I never took the phone. But whenever he did speak to me he would be so happy and spoke in English (both my grandparents speak very good English). He would often write me birthday cards addressing them Mr. Sahan. I just have so much regret now in my heart. I was supposed to go see him, this is why I'm having this vacation. He had a stroke and he became paralyzed. My mother went a month ago to take care of him. But she saw how he was getting better so we didn't have to come. We cancelled our tickets and thought we'd buy them again later on in the year when it's easier for us to take time off. But then a few days ago he had a heart attack and he was put on life support. His kidneys were failing so he was put on dialysis. Then they said he was recovering again, so they removed his life support, but a day or so afterwards he died. I couldn't believe it. Of all the things I've heard I couldn't believe that. It was such a slap on the face for me. I was about to go. We had the tickets, but we cancelled them. At this moment I would've been there with him. Yet, instead, I am here now, never being able to say a word to him ever again, filled with enormous regret. Just so much regret.

The last bit must've been very incoherent. I had a lot of trouble writing it. I think I'm going to stop now. I wanted to talk about MMA and Narnia and all these other things. But I can't. Thank you everyone for your support, I really appreciate it.

Day Three. Kickboxing.

I should point out that I'm writing this on the morning after Day Three. Being too tired to type anything coherent I decided to sleep on it and write in the morning. 

My body is sore right now; yesterday I was in pain. Although yesterday turned out not to be as productive, I did accomplish an important task during the evening. I worked on my boxing with Alex. This is an area that I need tremendous improvement on. I enjoy Jiu Jitsu and I find the moves come naturally to me with practice, but I have yet to find any comfort with standup fighting. Alex tells me that I have the technique down, but not the engagement. As anyone who's new to fighting would tell you, it takes a lot of courage to overcome the fear of punching (or kicking) back. The moment you punch you leave an opening for the opponent to hit you back, if they're faster or have a longer reach. And if you're not confident in your own strikes, you just curl into yourself in defense without throwing a single hit. I did this, and I paid for it. Like a punching bag. 

I didn't have time to apply for anything yesterday, but I did do a bit of reading. I finished the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Afterwards I contemplated writing stories again. The creative juices within me were boiling. I was inspired by this bee who happened to find itself in my room. It was surely on a voyage of exploration! I thought of this, and thought what a wonderful story it would make. I had many ideas I want to write down, but haven't had enough time. Now I do. Yet I feel there's never enough time. 

I am pummeled and beaten, and through pain and tears I stay, but will it be worth it? Is this goal too far fetched? I've boasted after I've climbed small hills before; I now seek to conquer Everest, but it had killed greater men than I. It has no mercy. It has no sympathy. Maybe I'll break miles before I reach the base.

Day Two. Jiu Jitsu.

Someone asked me today how my vacation is going. I thought about this for a while, and I answered that it was moving steadily. I haven't fallen behind, nor am I impressing myself at this point. I did actually get a lot done today; I'd say exactly on par with what I expected to accomplish.

I woke up a bit late because of all the napping I did yesterday. And looking at the clock now I would say tomorrow will turn out to be a similar morning. Seeing Tariq made me very happy today. It's not often I get to share my thoughts with him, and to hear of his doings, so today I definitely got my fill. We spent a good portion of the afternoon roaming Square One. I found out today that there's a Lutheran Church inside the mall, and it had been there since the late '70s. It's tucked away beside the Food Court. I've also noticed how many Asian teenagers roam Square One now. With their bony legs and large shorts they scurry about, often with an equally bony boyfriend in hand.

With our outing coming to an end, I headed back home where Ruth and Alex met me for a session of Boot Camp. But tonight was a surprise. Tonight we replaced Boot Camp with an evening of Jiu Jitsu. It was as intense as I remembered it. It had been weeks since I've grappled with anyone, and my body writhed and cramped in pain, adjusting to the level of strain. During the Triangle Chokes my calves cramped and I had to stop, twice. When I think back on all the training I did months ago, I begin to hate how much I've degraded. Despite all the cardio and muscle conditioning I can do alone, I could never practice grappling or kickboxing by myself. Tonight was a reminder of where I used to be in this game. My body remembered the pain, it came back to me like an old friend. Towards the end of the 2 hours I felt my body getting used to the pains, as it should be. I can only hope this is the worst I'd be, and that after today I will start to improve, especially as I go into the dojo on Wednesday.

I realize today's was a shit post. I'm so tired. After coming home from dinner I spent a couple of hours job hunting. I managed to apply for one job. It's good enough. The quota is filled. And right now it's 3 am and I need sleep.

Productivity: 8

Pain: 9

Morality: 2

Day One.

Today was a day of decompression. I have many plans for the upcoming 14 days. I have so much to do that I don't know what to give priority to first. Coming out of that Hell Hole of work I feel as if I can now do everything I couldn't do before. With the sights and smells of freedom, perhaps I was too overwhelmed today. But it wasn't a bad thing, really. I wanted to rest, I had a tough two weeks behind me, and I will have tough (albeit enjoyable) two weeks ahead of me. Today would probably be the real intermission in between.

Today I napped for the first time in a long while. It was the most pleasant sleep I have had since I started working. During the late afternoon it started to drizzle a bit. Along with the grey clouds outside, this made me so peaceful that I felt a nap would be perfect. So I opened the window and climbed into bed. With my eyes closed I heard the sound of rain outside, and the smells of a wet summer day, and I felt the breeze come in.
It was the most peaceful sleep I had in months. In my sleep I dreamt of many things. I recall something about walking outside with Ruth, showing her the various stars, and then we came across a strange comet in the sky. I also remember the sky was purple and pink, as it is in the Autumn and Spring. When I woke up I was feeling cold all over. Keeping the window open might've been a bad idea, but at least I felt at peace. When I was a child I recall sleeping in my Uncle's house, next to a window, with the rain splattering across the glass. I felt so safe and secure while the sky fell apart outside. I was protected behind that thin pane of glass. Today as I slept I thought of that memory and I felt happy.

As I come to terms with the fact that I'm not going back to work for two weeks I feel as a hardened crust around my body is starting to crumble. The crust that was formed by working in that labour camp, which mechanized me into a robot. As that layer begins to crack, I feel my older self - the one who wrote poems and stories, the one who sang songs and played guitar, the one who drew things, the one who adventured into the forests - coming out from underneath. I felt a living mind inside all the frustrations and hardness which developed over me; a mind of creativity and imagination waiting to write and draw and trod once more. And trod I will! I want to go adventuring in the wilderness again. Why, the very thought of it brings warmth to my body.

Now, this is what I meant earlier by feeling overwhelmed. One week prior, when I planned of this week away from work, I had only intended to train and train and train. My intention was purely for MMA. But now that I am here I want to do more! I want to go adventuring in the woods, I want to write stories, I want to meet up with friends whom I've neglected like Francis, and Bobby, and Jyoti, and Bhante Rahula (of the Windsor Temple), and Bhante Mitra (of the Waterloo Temple)! And I want to wake up early and listen to the sound of morning while eating a light breakfast - not at all in a hurry and copiously as I do when I leave for work. And I want to do something nice for Ruth and Alex, who've been beside me at all times and cared for me for so long, and even called me today to come out even though I simply couldn't. Aside from all this remain my original plan: to train for MMA. I don't know how I'd fare at the dojo now that I've been absent for weeks. Would I even remember anything? Yet I must. I must use these two weeks to grow.

Perhaps I can. Perhaps all will be done. Today I have rested. Will that be enough? It is too late now to consider the answer. Whether yea or nay, I will have to start my plans tomorrow no matter what. So with that I end my Day One.

As far as scales go:
Productivity: 0
Happy fun times: 5
Relaxation: 10

Day Zero.

I stand now at the crux of my vacation. And even as I stand here, about to embark upon two weeks of happiness and freedom from work, I feel afraid and doubtful of my choice. I would afterall lose two weeks worth of pay. Will it be worth it? How much can I really train in two weeks? This time off is what I've been awaiting for a long time. Yet now that it's here I am with doubt. And further yet, I think, it is too late now to entertain these doubts, for I've come too close to the edge. Now there is nothing left but to leap into tomorrow.

Much has happened these past few weeks, yet nothing much had changed. My work stagnated any growth in me, both physically and mentally. Everyday at work I would pray for some change to occur. For some ounce of fortune to fall upon me from the heavens. For the girl across my lab to look up, for even half a second, and catch my eyes; I would wait the entire day for that. When you're dying of thirst in a barren desert, you would cherish even the dampness of a wet cloth upon your tongue. When I think about this I understand now why I decided to take these two weeks off. It was for my wellbeing. I wasn't well, at all. What's even more frightening is that I was getting comfortable with that life. I even thought this morning, "Why would I need two weeks off? I could keep doing this. I'm actually getting better now." This is frightening because that thought would lead down a path to complete stagnation. I would have given up my dreams of finding a better career, my passion for MMA, and my creative endeavours. There are young guys at my workplace - no more older than I - who've worked there for 10 years! Ten! I couldn't believe it. These are intelligent guys, at the prime of their youth, wasting away labeling bottles for 10 hours a day. When you lose that drive and fall into complacency, you would slave away and not even know it. Not even feel it, for your mind has now been numbed. I fear this will be me. That is why I must take these two weeks off. Not just to train, but I must use this time to find a better job.

As I would work the best days of summer, inside a lab, lifting bottles from cold boxes of ice, labeling them with stickers, I would often ponder the notion of death. I hesitate to even say this, but there were times when I thought of ending it all. As my days of work was filled with the thought of death, my two weeks of freedom must be filled with life. I must live every hour, starting tomorrow. For once these two weeks are over, I am back into that hell. This is Day Zero.

Emocoaster 2.

Ah, I dunno why I haven't written in a long while. Maybe nothing significant happened. Or maybe I've just been overworked. I hardly have time to sit and think anymore. Maybe that's a good thing. Tonight I had too much time to do that. Tonight I feel empty. I'm a charlatan, I put on this act to entertain others, yet in the end even I'm not amused. Who am I really? Tonight I thought about all the friends in the past who've left me. Who am I to them? Despite everything I've attained, what have I to show for that? So many mistakes, so many people gone.

Argh, I dunno why I'm even writing this. Yesterday I felt so happy. My two best friends came over to see me and I had the greatest time as far back as I could remember. Perhaps this is the Emocoaster.

Silversun Pickups rock.
I've been waiting. I've been waiting for this moment alllll myyyy life. But it's not quite right.

Wait, you know what it is? I've talked to girls today. I find that I get depressed after talking to those idiots. It's like I put on a show - I dance and do a jig - and they're not impressed. I'm left on that stage, with the spotlight turned off, all alone, and the audience gone home. Fuck, I was so happy yesterday with Ruthie and Alejandro.

Cover Letter.

Victor Von Doom
Doomstadt, Latveria

Human Resources


Dear Dr. Doom,

I am seeking to apply as an Electronics Engineer for a full time position at your robotics facility in Doomstadt. Designing electronic systems and optimizing through software simulation is a personal interest of mine. My extensive knowledge of electrical circuit design and experience in robotics would be an asset to your engineering team.

Despite your landlocked country's numerous trade embargoes - obviously perpetrated by enemies of democracy and peace - you have single-handedly maintained a strong technology sector as can be seen by your vast armada of Doombots. This type of management can only be attributed to the wealth of intellect and polymathic skill of its glorious leader. You will find that I too am learned in a multitude of arts and possess a multifaceted skillset. Throughout my years at McMaster University I have worked with computing programs such as Matlab for finite element analysis; Multisim for schematic circuit design; AutoCAD for 2D and 3D drafting; and computing languages like C and Assembly in many of the projects I undertook.

I too have had such moments.

I understand that your armour is of your own design. This is a trait of a true leader: not to allow for chinks by giving the responsibility to lackeys and peasants. Like your majesty, I too possess leadership qualities and I enjoy building from my hands. As such, I have designed and built electronic systems, from optical guidance systems to a working robotic vehicle where I undertook the responsibility of a group leader.

Today's robots utilize mechanical, electronic, and software systems that work in union to perform specific tasks. Although your Doombots and other machinery appear to be mostly governed by the principles of steam-power and alchemy, I believe my unique microsystems background will be a great boon to your army. I have a thorough understanding of RS-232 and PCI interfaces, having used them in the building of a spectrum analyzer, and data analysis using microcontrollers. You might find that controlling the world with such a vast army troublesome while managing the issues of your own nation. But possessing a strong background in digital communication I am also equipped with a thorough understanding of RF circuit design, and analog and digital signal processing. With a constant radio connection you can lead your armada of mechanical troops from the convenience of your throne in Castle Doom!

Doombots could perform better with Arduino microcontrollers.

As a world leader you have had notable professional disagreements with fellow colleagues. Although imprisoning the Fantastic Four in the depths of your dungeons might have been the best course of action at the time, I believe I can provide dispute resolution techniques which can avoid costly battles. I have worked in group environments to solve group disagreements, where I have learned to both lead and to co-operate among teammates. Despite the doubts you're sure to have regarding my ability to work with Team Doom, I have honed my communication skills through years of technical presentations, design proposals, and publishing technical reports. I now feel confident in my ability to be both comfortable and productive in any engineering group environment.

Doctor, I am keen to use my skills for your government, and I believe I can be a strong member of your engineering team. Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,

Sahan Rohanatilaka

The East Wind.

I wrote this while at work yesterday.

Cute-Indian-Girl-Who's-Scared-of-Me is sitting up head. Pretty-Eastern-European-Girl-Who-Snubs-Me is seated to my left. Little Nog is two tables away, opening up a candy bar. My ears are filled with Gord Downie, so I could care less!

Hello again my friends
I've come to see you again
Like the East Wind
The laziest wind
It doesn't go around you, it goes through you
It doesn't go around you, it goes right through.
Buda dada dum, buda dada dum!

It pours outside. Like a curtain of water, draping out the play. All the actors are still.

Drowned out in this music I feel powerful. As if I'm somewhere they cannot be; somewhere they cannot find me. In my mind I'm standing in the ring, standing above my opponent, screaming in victory, and I see it all in a tableau. Here I am happy.

I wonder what they think I'm writing
...

The List
Julie
Mark from Accounting
Ted, that smug fucker
Barbara from HR
Mr. Chen he gave me a ride that day
Rob, that meathead fucker.

I was thinking of MMA because I was hoping to go that night. As it turned out I did end up going. And I was the happiest all week! I was in my heaven. I enjoyed it so much that I had a dream last night that I was doing the armbar on my dad.

Captain America.

I feel happy at this moment. It's due to a mix of soothing music and a realization. The latter I'll get to shortly.

I had a pretty good day. Today I bought two comic for myself and ate some Caribbean food for lunch. I bought a Neil Gaiman comic where he depicts Marvel heroes in the 17th Century. It seemed very interesting and being a Gaiman fan I had to purchase it. The second comic was Captain America. I've been really interested in Captain America lately. I'm not sure why. He lacks any superpowers, and is a rugged, manly hero, much like Batman. But unlike Batman he lacks the complicated mental issues and moral battles. I like how simple and straightforward he is. He's the archetypal hero. He's also iconic. He was created during the latter years of World War II. Almost as a joke, he would come to represent the American will. Even his name was not to be taken seriously. After the War no one really cared for this character, so he disappeared from comics. But they brought him back to life in the 80s or something. They made some story like he was frozen in time and they revived him again. Anyhow, I admire his iconic image. And who could not love his awesome shield? It's indestructible! Reading this comic and listening to my soothing music is making me happy right now. It's moments like this that make me forget about my work.

I hate my work, so I really look forward to these weekends. The past work week was especially difficult for me. A series of e-mails from someone came and threw my mind off balance for a while. In a way I expected this to come. I wrote a poem about this many blog entries ago, and it happened just as I predicted. I was beaten down to the ground, and as I tried to get back up, I was crushed into a pulp. Well, I deserve it. I think what bothered me most is how I never have enough courage -- or maybe skill -- to fight back. I don't know why I don't fight back. I never do when it comes to women. I'm always apologizing, always accepting blame. Maybe because I value friendship at the cost of anything, even my pride. I would do anything to minimize the damage and salvage the friendship. In the end I'm left feeling empty and weak, like a loser. I think that's something that has always bothered me about my past. I always lose every argument. That's something that bothered me about my previous relationship. I'm wrong, even when I know I'm right. I accept defeat. But this builds frustration in my head, and I end up feeling like I missed a chance. I end up feeling like a loser. It results in that low-self-confidence issue which has often plagued me. People take advantage of me, I know this. Maybe I don't want to hurt the people I love. Maybe I don't know enough words? Me no speak English.

During the Spider Man series there was a period where he was transported into a strange universe to fight in an epic battle. This battle would pit the best heroes versus the best villains. It was an ultimate battle to discover who was the best in the universe or something. I never read the comic, but I saw the episodes from the Cartoon. On one side it was Spiderman, Iron Man, X-Men, etc. On the other side it was Dr. Doom, Carnage, Dr. Octopus, the Lizard, etc. It was an epic battle and Spiderman's leadership saw that the good guys won in the end. He was transported once again out of this world and into some limbo dimension where Madam Webb explained everything to him. But the onus of it was that he could not tell anyone about this war. Once he's returned back into his normal life his memory would be erased, as will all the other superheros' and villains'. This would be known as the Secret Wars.

None of my friends knew of the series of e-mails that took place that week. It was my own Secret War. I wanted to fight it myself. To be honest, I didn't think it would turn out badly as it did. I know I'm the type to often lament and pour out all my feelings in a lengthy blog entry, but I wanted to keep silent during that time. It was only after a week had passed that I told anyone of it.

... She's like an immovable wall. But I tried my best.

Oh, as for that realization I spoke of earlier: I realize that I'm quite blessed, in many ways. I have a sound mind free from many mental problems others suffer from. I have a functioning body free of any diseases, disabilities, or other ailments. My family is alive and well, which cannot be said about every other family. I have great friends who love me and take me out to do things I would not otherwise do! I have my trusty steed (the Volvo). I have my strength and determination, which keeps me going even through the worst. Just like Captain America! Um, where was I? So I feel blessed that I have my lot in life. It's not much, and I could complain, but it could be a lot worse. And I could struggle to achieve what I have now, with a lot less. Despite all this shit I complain about, I feel lucky to be me.

Despite all my rage I'm still just a rat in a cage.

I wrote this whilst at lunch on Thursday:

It's lunchtime once again. Today wasn't so bad. I had to inspect a 100-bottle job today. Can you imagine typing in 100 different names, double-checking, pasting 100 labels onto bottles, and scanning them into a bin? And today's a good day. Tomorrow, I overhead, will be a very intense day. I'm gonna die! DIE!

I'm sitting at a new table in the lunchroom, it's close to the window. Outside the sun is heading West, it's against a vibrant blue sky. Flakes of clouds are scattered about. The wind blows the red leaves on a row of trees, they stand out of a lush carpet of green grass. There is a wooden bench sitting firmly on the ground, still against all things fluttering in the wind.

Today I'm having pasta that a family-friend made for us. Next to it I have two fish cutlets, and a piece of salty fish. This is a good lunch!

I was having a bit of an emo day today. I thought a lot about someone in my near-past. I felt that everything she has done, and everything she is doing, is perfectly called-for. She had a difficult time with my family, and an impossible future with me. No one deserved the abuse she got. She only wanted to be loved and included, but my family wouldn't have that. She deserved better. And amidst all this I did jack shit. I just let things slide and sat back passively. I couldn't give her what she wanted. I should've... I could've... I don't blame her, at all. I just wish I could tell her how sorry I am. I wish she'll find that happiness soon - if she hasn't found it already. Maybe it's better she isn't speaking with me. She will be happier. She doesn't need my drama. This is what I thought today while labeling bottles.

I'm going to do some cardio today. I might do an 8 km jog again. We'll see, it depends on when I'd get home. I hope my dad cooks something delicious! I want some meat. I want some smoked meat! I think we have fish - bleh. I'm fished out. And I don't want curry meat either. Damn curry, I have it every day.

Man, where are the hotties today? The lunch room's full of married, middle-aged women. The light outside is aging, getting bronze by the minute.

Sometimes I wonder about the future. Okay, I often wonder about the future. Where am I supposed to look? Who will she be? I look into the future and I see darkness. In the past I'd see something, some symbol of what's to come - like Tangerine. But I see nothing now. Maybe this is it. There will be no one else. Maybe I had all my chances and I blew it. Kenny's right - maybe we missed some opportunity in the past. This doesn't feel like where I should be right now. Fuck! I'm turning into Kenny. You know what I'm really scared of? My parents guilting me into marrying someone. Some fobby ugmo. And I'll be too weak to fight. And I'll live the rest of my life with regret and sadness. Maybe I should invest in a gun.

The sun suddenly became harsher. Like it's giving a final blow before it disappears. It's too uncomfortable to sit here.

That was what I wrote two days ago. For the record, I did get home early on Thursday, but I never worked out because one of my best friends called and we talked for hours. It was a conversation that needed to happen. And for the record my dad did cook something delicious - it was a baked whole chicken! My friend on the phone told me not to eat any of it because it's so late into the night, but I did so anyways. Friday was indeed intense, but we got home early because everyone stayed behind to help. As a result of going home early I did an intense workout regiment last night.

I don't want anyone to worry, I'm feeling much differently today (as I was yesterday). Thursday's episode was just that - an episode. I think the repetition of labeling bottles got to me! Haha. On another topic I've come to realize that I should be more weary of posting things related to other people. This is my post for my own personal thoughts, but often I come close to describing my drama with others. And I should be weary of crossing into this territory. As a result I deleted certain sections of a previous post, and I censored a few sentences from what I wrote at work.

As I mentioned I worked out intensely yesterday. I was feeling so lethargic lately, not getting a proper workout to increase my muscle-mass. So yesterday I went all out. It was 2 solid hours of cardio and muscle-conditioning. First I jogged around my basement lightly. Then I put two stools on my path and jumped over them. I then continued this holding a 10 lb weight. I then switched it to a 25 lb weight. Can you imagine continuously jumping over two stools holding a 25 lb weight? It killed my abs. I must've done about 50 jumps. I want to count next time so I know how many I'm doing. This is a great exercise because it forces you to jump, otherwise you'll injure your foot! Then I did my regular pushups and situps. Then I practiced some low kicks and then my newly discovered Axe Kick. Then onto weight training for biceps, triceps, and the bench press. Man, I really felt it in my abs and pecs. I hope this would help my boobies disappear soon. Oh! I also did a new weight training drill for my lats, this should help my punches. And did it end there? Oh no. It's not over til it's over. So I ran on the treadmill for another 20 minutes. I put the "hills" program so the treadmill was simulating elevation. It killed my abs! But I didn't give up. I actually spat at the treadmill after I completed it without giving up. Booyah!

My plan is to continue this intense workout all weekend up to Monday (with Alex's Boot Camp as the finale). Then Tuesday I'll take off for recovery. Today I have MMA, so I'm not sure if I should do anything. Maybe something light. Fuck yeah, I'm not gonna just rest tonight. It's beautifully blue outside. The sun is hidden behind some rain clouds, and it's light is casting a greyish blue on all things outside. Definitely Sahan Weather. I'm feeling well. Ya know, despite everything I've lost, despite all the petty dramas that revolved around me, I didn't do so bad. I'm quite proud of what I've achieved, considering what I had to work with. I like how I look, I can hold my fight, I'm earning more money, and I'm determined to go further.

Thanks Kyoshi. Osu.

1979.

I wrote this during lunch today:

Luuuunch time! Ah, it feels great to get outta there! I am eating some brown rice with chicken, mushrooms, okra, dal, and jackfruit curry. My supervisor wasn't too pleased with me today when I told her I had to go to Martial Arts classes in the evening. That means I'm only doing half an hour of overtime. She looked really disappointed. But I made a choice, to commit to my training, and I can't stop now. I owe Kyoshi too much to give up now. To be honest, I can't wait to see him! Wah, I'm so excited for tonight!

I worked out a lot yesterday, mostly muscle conditioning, but also some cardio. It wasn't enough. I honestly could've gone for another hour (I did 1.5 hours). I stopped because it was getting too late - some freak was waiting online for me. My body feels rigid today, and that's a feeling I missed. I gotta push harder next time. Push it to the limit! Past the point of no return!

I wanna take up guitaring again. Top of the list-of-songs is Simon & Garfunkel. Anything by them, really. I'm gonna be a folk-rock MMA fighter. Part hippie, part killer. Just like Charles Manson.

Why do girls with great butts have awful faces? And why do girls with great faces have awful butts? It seems to be a tradeoff. Oh! Speaking of this, I was bending over to fill up my water bottle when Cute Girl was standing right beside me. I didn't even notice her! I must've been bending over for 30 whole seconds without taking notice. She exudes a weak presence.

The weather outside is so beautiful! It's raining dogs and monkeys! The heavens are pouring forth! Perfect Sahan weather.
Hmm... cute brown girl looking at me, that's twice now. She looks a bit fobby. A bit drama-baggage-ish. Must consider further.

Man, I'm in a good mood today! I dunno what it is.

Booooobiiiiieeeeeesssssss!!!!!!!

For the record, people at work made a big fuss about me leaving early. I pretty much had to apologize to every person so I could pry myself outta there. But it was all worth it. MMA was terrific! I didn't get much of a workout though. I miss cardio kickboxing so much. I hope I don't spiral downwards. At least I get to fight in MMA, that's what's most important.

Today I did my first Axe Kick. Unfortunately it landed right on Frank's head. I just saw him get clonked and stumble backwards. I ran, grabbed his head, and caressed the spot I hit with my heel. I never realized how powerful a kick it was. Then we did some grappling work on the ground. We found a way to get out of the Rear-Naked Choke. I loved it! It worked really well. But the timing has to be just right and the movement fluid. It probably won't work 7 out of 10 times.

Also for the record, the cute brown girl (the new one who was looking at me) had a ring on her finger. So forget that shit.

I want to take some of my Smashing Pumpkins cds to work to listen on the drive. A couple of songs came on this week and I realized how much I missed those guys. Man, it just hits the spot. Right there, aww yeah.

TV.

I wrote this while at lunch:

My plans to workout in the mornings hasn't gone so well. I stay up late after work so I wake up late. I'm going to workout tonight, after work. Is that bad? Nah, a workout's a workout. There's some good news. I checked my body fat percentage and I'm at 18%! This means I've dropped 2-3% in just two weeks! Earlier I was losing fat at a rate of 1% per month. I think it's due to Alex's boot camp regiment. Hmm. Oh, and my weight is at 182 lbs, btw. This means I only lost fat and not muscle.

I'm still thinking about yesterday's meeting. I'm a bit disappointed. I expected more to come out of it. Sigh. I'm not sad, just disappointed. I love my friends though. Thank you for always being there, especially last night.

Man, the lunch room's full of ugmos. Where are the hotties? Where?!! I saw that snobby brown girl earlier. She's the only non-married hot girl in my department. She totally ignored more again. I hope she chokes on that water she got - just a little bit.

Woah, a hot tall girl just walked in -- blugh, nevermind, she just turned around.

I'm doing well at my job. My supervisor was very happy with my progress and told me so. Well, I'm out of time, I guess I should go back. Let's hope something wonderful happens to me tonight.

For the record, I did work out tonight. I first set up an obstacle course around my basement and ran and jumped until I was tired. Then I did an hour of muscle conditioning. Tomorrow I'm planning on leaving early (only doing half an hour of OT) so I could make it to MMA class. I will not give up. Even if my body's tired, I refuse to let my progress slide. This means far too much to me. What I've gained in the dojo is more important than anything else right now.

Also, for the record, something wonderful DID happen to me. I smiled at this really cute girl in another department. She looks Middle-Eastern/ Eastern-European. I hope I can smile at her again tomorrow!

Emocoaster.

I wrote this on my break yesterday.

Where would you go if you wanted to run away? I left to take my lunch - what if I never came back? How long would it take them to realize I'm gone? I won't even have to sneak out. No one even notices me in the lunch room, I could just walk out the exit and run off into the beautiful green fields beyond. I'll live among the birds and the flowers. There are so many colours outside - reds, greens, yellows, and blues. In here everyone is just one colour - grey.

There are two types of women here. The older and uglier women - who are the most social and friendly. And the younger and beautiful girls, who are just snobby jerks! They won't even look at me. Would a smile kill you? Ugh. As for the beautiful social women? They're married. Fuck.

I'm sitting under the TV. It makes it seem that everyone is looking at me. I feel special and wanted! There are too many Filipinos here. Why is it that lab coats cannot be worn in the lunchroom but they're allowed to be worn in the washroom? Rice goes everywhere. My cellphone, on this paper, and even in my bag. Or am I just a messy eater? No, it's the rice. The rice is at fault.

I'm going to hide in the freezer, maybe they won't find me there.

Rear Naked Choke.

It feels different not job searching. Having a few minutes free to myself would make me feel guilty for not hunting down enough jobs. I suppose the hunt hasn't ended, but at least I can slow down now to get my priorities straightened out. This job won't pay much, but the money would be very useful right now. I think my parents are in some kind of financial difficulty. I can't be sure, but often I'd see my father stressing over bills in his office, and there was more than a couple of occasions where he asked me for money. It's very unlike him. They money I'm looking to earn in the next month or so will help ease their burdens, which would translate to a happier environment for us all.

Ya know, it occurred to me that a lot of my issues with my mom comes from me being a disappointment in her eyes. I think they praised me a lot growing up, and had high expectations for my graduation. Afterwards when I ended up having no job, and just staying home like a bum, their dreams must've been shattered. I don't think a week passes when I don't explain to my mom why getting an Engineering Degree didn't leave me with a job waiting after graduation. It's as if it doesn't make sense to them. Their equation stated that a great job would await anyone after getting an expensive degree. It all boils down to money. Somehow I think if I had money to appease them my situation with my girlfriends would've been completely different. Fuck.

For the past few weeks I've been stuck in this fitness plateau. It's not so much my weight remaining constant, but rather my fat percentage not decreasing a bit. I've been alternating weeks of muscle building and intense cardio. I've also been very careful with what I eat and how I eat. I've been eating smaller meals now, and at regular intervals. I've been training myself to run longer. The other day -- which was a Tuesday, btw -- I had jogged 8 km nonstop in 50 minutes. The length was a record for me! I was very proud of myself and bragged about it to others. I've also been highly critical of my fighting in MMA. I need to cut out the crap and start making a game plan. I realized that I had no plan to execute. I just go into a grapple and pray for the best. Speaking of grappling, we did a lot of that today. I got many pointers from this fellow who came to our class (he was an older student who took some time off). He showed me the mistake with my neck-choke, and some hints at my neck clinch.

Speaking of MMA like this, it makes me reflect on why I find it so soothing. Kenny put it best, "When you're training for it, or in the ring, all you have is the ring. The ring is now your world. You operate within it, you know the rules, and you do it. Not only is it a challenge, but it's damn comforting to have everything else melt away and only focus on your own little planet."

Philosophy of Genetics.

I'm not sure why I dislike sunny days. I find myself tired, drowsy, and lethargic when I see the brightness outside. I'm enjoying the heat, mind you. I just wish it wasn't so bright. I want to go jogging outside, but it's so damned bright. Some clouds with a bit of cool breeze would be perfect about now.

Um, I guess something Sciency? I recently listened to this talk on CBC Radio. It was a lecture series known as the 2009 CBC Massey Lectures. They presented the first lecture, known as the Season of the Brown Hyena. It was about the importance of preserving language. As you all know a language dies out every 14 days. At this rate about 3500 languages, or half the spoken languages in the world, will be extinct by the year 2100. This is really appalling, but also understandable in the highly interactive and influential way we live these days. Some might say that it's natural for languages to die out, and have been doing so for ages. But what a shame it would be for such unique way of expressing the human experience were to disappear forever. The lecturer, Wade Davis, explained that ancient civilizations are NOT failed attempts at trying to evolve or civilize human beings to what we are today. Rather they were, and should be seen as, unique ways of expressing the fundamental question that we all ask: What does it mean to by Human? That thought really touched me. It made me see differently from the idiocentric view we have in this modern world of ours. Each culture is a unique way of expressing the human experience. And to lose a language means to lose one of those beautiful worlds. As you could already see, we can't talk about language without talking about culture. And genetics! In fact, this lecture was not only about language, but also went deeply into DNA, which surprised me. I love how intertwined all these areas of study are. As if we were all digging tunnels into this large mountain, and somehow we all met at the centre. One of the most interesting things Davis said was that not too long ago, maybe as recently as the 1960s, the concept that different races of people came from different species of human was prevalent even in the community at large. When Darvin came up with his theory one thing people had trouble accepting was that all humans - Africans, Irish, Samoans - all came from a single ancestor. That we were all the same. The beauty of DNA analysis was that it showed, once and for all, in the most beautiful philosophical way, that there was no such thing as race. The differences between us were purely geographical. Except for minor differences, we see that all humans are the same. This means that if the entire human species were to go extinct, we could still repopulate and rebuild our species with just the blood of, say, the the Vedda peoples of Sri Lanka. From their people we could recreate the Chileans all the way to the Manchurians of China. Anyway, I won't go on too much about this because I really think you should listen to the lecture. The next post I'm hoping to talk about the San peoples of southern Africa, who might descendants of be the original Homo Sapiens.

In an additional note, damn New Zealand! I'm done with you. I'm not even gonna talk to you until later this year. I'm glad you've got no games until November (or whatever), it'll give you time to think. Bring back Shane Bond. Ugh.

Free bus.

Whenever I see a city bus on the highway I often feel like it's running away. As if it freed itself from the bonds of the city's transit system and escaped into the free world! It's always an odd sight for me on the highway. Run away free bus! You are free now, flee, flee and be free!

'Cause I'm free as a bus now
And this bus you cannot change!
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.
And this bus you cannot change!
And this bus you cannot change!
Lord knows I can't change.

I think there are more hours in the day than people would ever need. Twenty four is more than enough. No one is really busy. We're just busy with the activities we choose to be busy with. We often burden ourselves with some things and neglect others. "Sorry I didn't call, I was too busy." No you weren't. How can anyone be busy for months and months? Surely you had 5 minutes in those months to watch TV, surf in the Internet, or take a poop. We don't call because we just don't care. We have no need for that person in our lives. Oh, by the way, this is not directed at anyone or have any relevance to my life currently, it's just a thought that occurred to me recently.

It has also occurred to me that Left Wing governments tend to slow economic progress. In fact, they abate just about any sort of progress except social progress -- the one area that such governments exceptionally care about. I say this because I realized under the Bush administration NASA actually had a plan and a budget to go to the Moon. In fact, Bush pushed the Constellation program which would land people on the Moon again by 2020 and on Mars by 2030s or 40s. But Obama cancelled this within his first year. I'm not against the cancellation -- I mean, looking at the economic situation, you gotta make sacrifices. I'm just saying, Left Wing politicians have social concern at the top of the agenda. Maybe the cancellation of Constellation wasn't so bad, I recently heard an interview on CBC Radio with a space businessman. Space tourism will be the big thing of the future. And, I like to believe, that under privatization space will fare a lot further than under the wobbly, restricted hands of a government.

Oh, also, go Kiwis! You've done well to match Australia's score, just don't muck up the Second Innings. Please! Do what you did earlier and you can win this!

Ian Smith.

I love Ian Smith's cricket commentary. The guy's so alive and passionate. He gets mad at the slightest thing. I'm feeling happier right now. Today was a rainy day and I loved that. I love rainy days. They bring back wonderful memories. And maybe that was the problem. But I'm well now, and cricket had a part to play in that. The New Zealand Black Caps are playing the Aussies tonight. I think this is their 2nd ODI game this tour. I love getting mad with Ian Smith, he says exactly what I'm thinking. I love Dan Vettori, but man, the guy's gotta be more responsible for himself. As a captain you have to know when to settle down and bat mindfully. He really did throw away his wicket tonight. It's disappointing. As a result the Black Caps really had to scrape the bottom of the barrel to get the 241 they ended up with. On the plus side the bowling side is having a whole lot of luck. Two dismissals due to bad umpiring calls. And both too ridiculous to err. As much as I dislike the Aussies, it hurts to see that.

I've recovered quite well from the cold. I'm at 80% health. I think this recovery was long overdue though. Had I taken lots more liquids and more hours of sleep, I would've been this well many days ago. And I could've made it to Wednesday's classes. Oh well. Tomorrow I've got MMA and I'm looking forward to go. I feel as if I haven't kicked ass for ages and I've got the urge to kill! Hopefully I'll be able to jog afterwards too. I want to practice running outside now. My fat-loss regiment is working well, and I think adding long-distance running to my bill should just keep the process going.

I found my copy of Moby Dick in my drawer. After Watership Down I've been searching for a good book. I didn't finish Moby Dick, but I've got through about 160 pages of it a couple of years ago. Should I re-start the book, or continue from where I left off? It's not as if I've forgotten everything. The start was pretty boring anyways.

I really should sleep now. It's pretty damned late. But, fuck, I wanna see the Kiwis pull this shit off tonight. I know they can win this!

WAAHHH!!

WAHHH BLLOOGHH AHHH NNNMMMMMOOOOONNG! BLOOOAAHHHH GAAAAHHHH!!!
.... Tron.

Sustainability.

Fucking snow! Completely ruined my evening today. I drove home from Vaughan for two hours (a ride that should've taken thirty minutes)! I was driving at 5 km/h, bumper to bumper, passing at least four accidents, and countless snow-ploughs. And I missed my kickboxing classes today. No warm-up now for Wednesday's class, no chance at the punching bags, and no chance to oggle any girls. I'm almost annoyed!

There's a topic I've been meaning to write about for some time, but I kept putting it off due to lack of enthusiasm. I'm fascinated with the idea of evolution and transmission of tradition. Living in a so-called Developed country we see how quickly technology and method changes from decade to decade. The methods of farming and irrigation we use today is not the same as they were five decades ago. But in many areas of the world the lifestyles of the locals have been the same for generations. For perhaps centuries their traditions and way of life had not changed, passing on their techniques from one generation to the next. The North American Aborigines or the Bushmen of Southern Africa are great examples of that. These peoples learned to find a sustainable lifestyle with their environment for many centuries. Often when we look into "natural lifestyles" we take the Aboriginals as an example. But where did they get that knowledge from? Unless one believes that knowledge was divinely passed, they too must've developed it at one point. And that's what piques my curiosity. The point where the natives weren't even native to their environment, where they were in fact alien. That reminds me of the first North American inhabitants that came over from Asia, who met the Wooly Mammoths and hunted them, possibly to extinction. It fascinates me to think of the point of time where modern native cultures struggled to adapt themselves to their environment and find a lifestyle that was sustainable. Certainly I thought about that when I read this article: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/business/8517748.stm. It challenged the idea of a rural farmer, in my mind. One would think in a country like India, where civilization stretches back several millennia, farmers would be so well adjusted to the harsh temperature deviations. And perhaps they have. But the fact that thousands still suffer in famine says something about their unsustainable lifestyle. But unlike the first peoples who migrated onto North America, these Indians aren't walking into a new world. Rather their population has exceeded what their land can offer, and now they struggle to stay alive by scraping what little they can from underneath their feet.

On a final note, I'm really proud of the Canadian athletes who competed in the Olympics. Even the ones who failed to receive a position on the podium; they practiced so hard, conquering physical and mental barriers, to come to where they were, face to face with the best human beings in the world. That takes a lot. I think Meryl Davis is very pretty. She's American and even if she steals Canada's gold medal I would forgive her. She looks a little weird and I like that.

Hungarian Sausages.

Stupid Bangladesh. Why do I always cheer for the underdog? I just get my hopes up only to have them shattered into smithereens. Now I've focussed my attention onto the West Indies game against Australia. It's not a Test, just a one-day game, so it's outcome wouldn't matter as much to me. Where is Chanderpaul? He and Chris Gayle hold this team together. And out of the two it's Chanderpaul who's reliable. I have nothing to say about the bowlers.

I've completed my snowboarding gear purchases. I have the whole set now: snow-pants, water-proof jacket, goggles, gloves, and toque. Am I excited? I'd say I'm looking forward to it. I don't know what to expect. And this lack of expectation, lack of something to look forward to, might be what's abating my excitement. What will happen on Saturday? It all seems like a passing dream. I wasn't even sure I was going but a week ago. The last few days I've been running about purchasing items from a rough gear list; not knowing where to go, what to look for. And now I'm set, awaiting the morning I'd set off, with little planning or any idea of how I'd get there. It all seems loosely attached, lacking certainty and determination.

I enjoyed the Hungarian sausages I bought today. Mmm, I could still taste it in my breath. The chunks of fat, compactly placed in between the flavoured meat, melted on my tongue after every bite. *droooool* I declare this to be the sausage of the month. I would like to try it colder next time, without frying it. There was another sausage I bought, I forgot the name of it, but I think it must've been Polish. It wasn't as flavourful, so it should be used in conjunction with another food. I will use it in sandwiches, I think. I will visit Starsky's again very soon. I want to try a new sausage every visit. Next time I will see if I can buy some Haaring.

On a final note: life seems dull and dreary without Watership Down. Finishing the book felt like closing up a part of my life. It had been with me throughout these integral months of change. The tales of Hazel, Fiver, and Bigwig paralleled my own adventures. When they struggled it seemed I too struggled alongside them. We shared the same battles, the same fears, the same losses, and the same gains. We shared the burdens. We picked our courage from the same pit. When Hazel's heart beat as he hid in the ditch, from the farmer's gun, my heart beat with his. I think what I loved so much about this book is the utter audaciousness of their missions, the lack of a clear plan, and the sheer determination that saw them through to the end. Then there were the straight-forward missions. No matter how simple the idea was, and however minuscule they envisioned the danger to be, something always went wrong. They held firm to the faith that luck was on their side, even when it was running thin. They pulled from a shallow pool of courage, even when it was thought to be dry. I found my inspiration there.

The Black Caps.

I love watching New Zealand cricket. Yes, the Black Caps are my favourite team, but I also enjoy the Kiwi commentary. They're honest, they're silly, and there's something so quaint about their comments. Well, Bangladesh is visiting them right now, playing their only Test, and although I'm a Kiwi fan I seem to be rooting for the visitors. Why? Because I want them to win at least one Test against a strong country. What was their last victory? West Indies? Pfft.

I had Sunday School today. It made me happy! We were asked to teach meditation at a younger classroom. I enjoy doing this because it gives my students a sense of maturity. I start by giving my own students a pep talk on being mentors and examples. They seem to love this responsibility.
"Why are we always teaching meditation?" asked one student of mine also named Sahan.
"Because I'm the only teacher that knows how to teach meditation." They all gasped at that. "Yeah, in fact, you guys might be more qualified in meditation than anyone else." At this a couple of students got very excited and suggested that I send them each to classrooms (as missionaries) to teach meditation. A lot of the students didn't show up today because of the long weekend. In fact, I only had 8 students (out of a possible 18). Due to the meditation I lost a lot of time too, so in the end I only had about 40 minutes to get through the entire lesson. I handed back the tests, went over them, and talked a bit about the Seven Weeks After Enlightenment. I derailed a little bit to talk about the Tipitaka and it's history. Yes, it took away from my lesson, but it really fed their curiosity. In the end THAT's what engenders a passion in Buddhism. Not rote memorization, not the rules, not the dry chantings. I don't mind taking all the time to fulfill their curiosity. Today a student asked me about the Jhanas. I took 5 minutes to explain what results one experiences in each stage. In his eyes I saw the same passion and love I had in mine when I was first introduced to the subject at 16.

In a final note today I want to state how important MMA has been in my life. Forget the physical results; mentally I feel so much more resilient and determined. The past week there was some drama I had to deal with. I don't think I could've handled it had it been one year ago. I feel stronger and more confident in myself. Through MMA I'm starting to love myself. I think all girls are unstable. Yes, I generalized. Lesson of the day: bitches ain't shit.

Sore.

I will come with my two fists
You will come with iron bars
I will stand up tall
You will knock me down
I will brave the worst you've got
You will crush me to the ground.

I'm preparing for a storm and I cannot predict it's strength. I am still not ready. Will I ever be? I don't know what to anticipate. Whatever I've gained, the storm's gained doubly. I cannot win, I will be defeated.

So I survived the ordeal of yesterday. Actually, it wasn't so much an ordeal, more like a mountain that had to be conquered. Work, kickboxing, and MMA. I got through all three. The Kyoshi increased the pain factor last night. Over our grunts of pain he said, "My goal is to make you stop coming to this class. After tonight you will never want to come back again. Hahaha!" I nearly passed out in kickboxing. I wanted to best last week's workout, so I kept up the routine without rest. This came back to hurt me when I was doing punching bags and I nearly blacked out. MMA was slightly better. We did tossing. I tossed Frank about two dozen times, and my shoulder kills today. Frank did the same and I could see the area of my skin turned red where it had been stretched and pulled. I felt like rubber. Frank complemented me as I wiped a bucketful of sweat from my head, "Your cardio's improved one hundred percent!" That man rarely talks, and so it meant a lot to me.

Today had been a day of rest. I should've run or something. I hate sitting around, it makes my muscles sore and cramped. Watership Down is scaring me. I fear a major battle is up ahead, and I'm not sure if the burrow can handle a full out attack.

I feel strong. Yet not strong enough. I've defeated every challenge that came unto me, but it's the one I can't that I fear.

The lull.

Today is a day of rest for me, before the fury of tomorrow.

Watership Down is engaging me in a way no book ever has. I passed what felt like a climax, but I know the end is far from here. I fear what might happen to the rabbits. They came out very luckily, but they might not be so lucky to escape death a second time. Never in my life have I been so worried for the fate of fictitious rabbits. I love them all dearly, but I fear that love will work against me; I fear one of my favourites will die before the end.

A recent conversation with a friend got me thinking about Blue Whales again. They're renewing themselves in my mind as my favourite animal. They are the biggest animal in the history of the Earth. They weight about 150 tons and are about 100 feet long (which is more than the length of two city buses). They are majestic and beautiful, having an almost hydrodynamic body, made perfect for swimming across their oceanic universe. Often found alone or in pairs, they inhabit all parts of the Earth's oceans. I love their solitude and loyalty. And their large size and patience reminds me of myself.

I'm feeling myself being pulled by my friends. No matter how nonpartisan I try to be I seem to be offending someone. I just want to love freely, to everyone in my life, why must I be pulled into their personal politics? A part of me fears that in the end I might lose them all, if I don't pick a side now. Choosing between loved ones, it's a game I don't want to play again.

I've rested the entire day today and I'm resting still tonight. Tomorrow will be a big day for me: work, kickboxing, and then MMA. I will be lucky to come out alive in the end. No, I am made of tougher stuff. I have steel determination.

Single.

Seeing people around me in love, it makes me yearn for someone for myself. I miss having that closeness, that intimacy, that bond. It made me feel like I belonged to something greater. Yes, I am happy with myself and the life that I lead now. I feel beautiful and I feel confident. I am strong and I fight every day. But why does every day have to be a fight? I'm tired of fighting. Being alone means braving the evils of this world. Running through the woods alone under the blanket of darkness. Why can't I rest? I am tired of running, tired of fighting. I want to be safe now. It gets so cold here.
It would be nice... that's all I'm saying.

"The Darkness"

Under the sun I am fearless
Can this strength carry me?
Or is it all folly and facade?
The muscles ache, a witness
To every punch made
Yet they cannot overcome you.
I cannot defeat you,
For I am too weak.
In the darkness I am still weak.