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.