March 27th; Loved Ones

Sometimes, we make mistakes:


Snatched – gone – taken from your home
The terror beyond your unseeing eyes
Stolen from the world that you have never known
Never hearing your mother’s sorrowful cries

You will not get the chance to scurry
To play and to enjoy your beautiful youth
The Hounds of Hell took you away in a hurry
Filched of the period where you could run aloof

I held your hand in mine
I could feel the sadness in your heart
The pressure in my own
And the hurt inside of my breast
“You will never be opening your eyes”
It was all I could think as I dried your hair
I looked inside to find some life
All I found was more pain in there
I am sorry I took you from the Earth
The kind nurse of bone, leaf and soil
Now you are violated and decapitated
Left in an orange bag – left only to spoil

Detached – done – I’m a beast and no less
I love you too late so I suffer the pain
I thought I could help but I was wrong
There some are things I cannot obtain

Once I was a saviour – but that is no more
I failed to be your kind human friend
I remember your grey, black and white patterns
But I cannot put your sweet body back again



- Jeffrey

March 25th; Full of Good

I know I have been hard on myself.

I know I do not really give people the time and day that I should.

I know that sometimes I think too much about thing and miss those wonderful opportunities.

I know that I come across as a self-seeking, smart ass from time to time

I know that I am nowhere near the perfect person I want to be.

However, today I received something that proved to me that I am not the loser I think I am. I am smiling and I feel good about myself. There is that long sought spring in my step. The sun is shining both on my face and in my heart. I love myself today.

I want to share this love. Who will receive it?

March 21; My Infliction Realized

Every so often you get one of those moments where you just stop and realize that your life is not a pile of gos se but rather things are quite excellent.

This weekend is a fantastic example of that. My father picked me up at Fleming College on possibly one of the best days – weather wise – that the town of Lindsay has experienced in months. I am saying winter is not beautiful in its own way, but after a few REALLY cold weeks, it is nice to have the sun shining and a light breeze blowing between the Scots pines.

When I got home, I played some basket-ball and settled in for the evening. The next morning I got up with my mother and we went off to work. I had a job interview with Human Wildlife Control at 9:30am which I was both looking forward to and, in a way, dreading. I realized a little too late that I might not meet some of the qualifications.

In the words of the interviewer, I “nailed it” and I am going to call him mid-April to see if he needs me. It felt as if he was telling me that I had the job as long as there was a need for another person on the crew. In my mind, that is a mission accomplished.

That evening my father and I watched a really bad Japanese monster, had a good hardy laugh, and went to bed refreshed. Rarely do I get that these hectic days at school. Usually my thoughts are too enraptured in assignments and tests to feel much peace. It is as if my eyelids close from exhaustion rather than a will to have a good night’s rest.

Saturday I woke up tired but excited. I had the feeling that despite the tranquil process of going to bed, my sleep was packed full of dreams. I do have a fleeting recollection of my mother, in the dream, mentioning my shoes were too effeminate and that my ribs were enlarging underneath my skin; stretching it to the point of tearing. The excitement was around seeing my friends, Kyle and Matt, after a brief but acknowledgeable absence. It may have only been two weeks, but I already felt like I was losing touch with them. Also, I was looking forward to giving Matt a CD for his birthday – “Read Music, Speak Spanish”.

Kyle came around 3:20pm; we quickly picked up some isopropyl alcohol (for my beasties) and then played 7 solid games of pool. To my surprise, I am played well. I always thought I was insufficiently talented for a guy whose parent’s OWNED a pool table. My brother, his girlfriend and two friends joined my parents, Kyle and I for dinner. We mowed down on sausages and salad for dinner, my parents left for a concert and then we ‘kids’ played Cranium WOW. The game is quite tricky but it was a lot of fun.

Matt popped by around 8:00pm. More pool was played and fun was had. Something about Kyle and Matt – even friends in general – make me so happy inside. I am sure that sounds kind of silly, and rather perverse, but that is what I feel. There is this swell of “goodness” that has the most enjoyable sensation ever.

I am going to stop there before I say something really disgusting.

I am truly lucky to have these people: Emily (x3), Matt, Kyle, Amy, Meg (x3), Karen, Jason (x2), Andrea and Brett. Sometimes I am really naïve about it, but recently I have realized that these are the people that make my life matter. It is not school. It is not good grades. It is not even following the rules and being a model citizen. It is my friends.

Why did I see this earlier?


- Jeffrey


(image courtesy of MindStep ©2008)

March 17th; Decisions, Decision, Decisions...

I am having some difficulty deciding – am I am helpful fellow or am I a smart-ass?

Here are the facts in the issue:
1. Whenever someone is studying something out loud, I am extremely tempted to get involved.
2. I like sharing my opinion.
3. I learn through trial and error.
4. When possible, I will ask others about what they think the answer is and gauge it with my own.
5. I study a good three hours a day.
6. I had my little way; I would eat peaches every day.

The honest truth is that I do not intend for it to be malicious. People have learned that I am well-informed and usually have the correct answer. I enjoy the attention and the respect. Is it really wrong for me to feel good about that?

I have been taught from a young age that it is good to share your talents. I feel there is not much more to share than my dedication to my program. I am a pretty boring guy aside from my scholastic capabilities. Therefore, I share my wisdom and experience to anyone who asks of it. Through that I have built a reputation that I adore. People know my name and that feels great.

There are some down sides to this. There is an awful large amount of pressure to stay on top of my course material. This alone makes me rather anxious. I feel almost as if I lose my smarts, no one will care about me. There is a push to be perfect; one which I may or may not be able to upkeep.

Part of me does not want to care THIS much about school and my grades. I am happy-go-lucky guy by nature. I care more about relationships (social interaction) than I do about how well I do in school. However, with that said, there is still that self-requirement for me to achieve high marks. Unfortunately, it is all too easy to ignore people to keep these standards at the level I has thus far held them at. It is this key element that causes the most conflict in my days.

Although, I think I got it down. I have decided I am a nice guy that likes to help. Sometimes I come on too heavy and stick my nose in business that I do not belong in but it is based in good intentions. I am not perfect but I want to be. I realize that is an unachievable goal. I also know that school is temporary and people have the potential to be forever (they are certainly a lot more long lived than test marks).

Love each other!


- Jeffrey

March 16th; First Canada Wins Gold and Then This?!

It is amazing how much a little number can make you feel. I did not think it would affect me this much. It’s kind of scary.

In no way am I an expert birder but I am proud to say that I got 100% on my Bird Identification test in my Wildlife course. The teacher even picked it out of the pile to use it as a marking sheet. I guess he had confidence in me.

Based on this test alone, I can ID 40 birds. That is more than a lot of people can boast. It is one step closer to knowing my beloved Earth. I consider this a great accomplishment.

I was so worried about it. In retrospect, I am not even sure why that was. I am always a very diligent person. When I put my heart and effort into something, I always get results. However, I still get this silly feeling now and then that my grades are a fluke; that I have just gotten lucky. It is ridiculous.

To make things even better, it is a truly beautiful day outside. I am definitely going to sit outside a read. Nothing is better after a day at work/school, then relaxing on the front porch of your house, enjoying a good novel, and possibly sipping on a cool drink. I used to think Spring was a ugly season. I am beginning to reconsider.

I still have three more exams/tests this week. I am confident that I will do well on those as well. Perhaps it will not be 100% but there is always the potential.

More than anything, I needed this. I was down last night. I was done most of the weekend. As a celebration of my 200th piece of poetry, I posted a “woe is me” piece. The weather was grumpy and so was I. I can admit to that. I agreed to take a job and then regretted it. I had this notion that I did not have enough time for it, that the hours and pay was not enough and that I would probably be no good at it. All of it combined made me miss my home, my friends and everything in Ancaster

However, today was a great day. I woke up late, shoved cereal down my gullet and then sped to school. I made it to class exactly on time – out of breath but smiling. Within the hour, the sun came out and filled my heart with gladness. I was laughing easy and wasn’t stressed out for once. Then I wrote the Bird ID test and that was like the whipping cream onto of my apple crumble day. It was amazing.

Just for all those people who feel like giving up – like I did before today – hold on because I know there are days like these for each and everyone. If you run, they will never be able to catch up with you. Hold tight and have faith.


- Jeffrey

March 14; Insanity Returned

I probably should not feel so happy that the landlords are gone but I do. It is not that they are bad people – they are kind enough – but it does take a lot out of me when I am so paranoid about them. I fear I will do something wrong. I fear that they will think less of me. Most of all, I fear that I will be kicked out.

I am glad that I have a house with some pretty awesome people I don’t want that taken away.

I have been thinking a lot about who I am and what I stand for. I am kind of lost in around who that person is. I think I know but then I lose it. It is the most frustration thing I have dealt with in a long while. A lot more complicated than the silly school worries that I am used to.

One thing is for sure, and that is that I miss the person I felt I was once upon a time. Somewhere, I lost who that person was. I have written extensively about who I think I am becoming. I am not sure I like that person. I strive to be the best I can be in everything that I do. However, that is not always possible. I do sometimes fail and that tears me apart.

When the landlady mentioned that I have changed, it really bothered me. I could tell by her tone what she did not think it was for the good. I wanted to ask her what she meant by it. I wanted to know what I had done wrong. The fact that such a little comment can still have that much power over me is disconcerting.

In good news, I think I have a grasp on my 280 bird species. I get a little mixed up with the warblers and sparrow but otherwise I have been blazing through that PPT like a wildfire. It feels good to know what I am looking at when I walk out my front door. The only thing left to do is to master their calls. That will probably be a lifelong thing. Not everything is so easily acquired.

Probably the best thing all week has been that I have finally found my words again. I can write and I believe to be writing some quality stuff. This garble that I write down from time to time is my form of expression. Without, I do not know what I would do with myself. The week or so without it was bad enough. I would not like to see me after a prolonged bout.

I think that is all for now. My time is limited on this library computer that I report from. Wish me luck in my endeavours. I will be praying to you.

- Jeffrey

March 13th; Bond Street Tyrants

It is Saturday afternoon and I am sitting in Fleming College typing this baby up. It is raining and my motivation to bike back to the house in meagre at best.

I am a few days early for posting a journal but I feel as if I have rather important to things to be discussing (aka I have something to say and want at least someone to share it with).

I have been living in this grand, old house in Lindsay, Ontario for over a year now. The location is great and the house is spacious. Last September I was introduced to three great people, two of which still live with me know. They have become fantastic friends and I hope to remain in contact them even after our college days are over. All in all, I am happy there and consider it like a section home.

However, there is a problem. It is my landlords. Well…the landlady.

I feel as if I need someone to support that these people are not positive spectrum of crazy. Here are some items as evidence.

(a) The woman loves the smell of stripe skunk spray.

(b) She once said, after complimenting me and displayed modesty, “You know I am not putting you on a pedestal. Your brain failed to synapse a few times this year. You were part of the couch incident” (which, in truth, I was not).

(c) She openly taunts and torments her six year old daughter and calls her retarded.

(d) She fanatically cleans the house, noting that we the housemates have “attempted” to clean, and mentions her disgust of us; thus undermining our efforts.

There are more examples but my purpose is to say that I am considering moving because of just how awkward and demeaning she can be to my housemates, her family and me. Additionally, I kind of have been offered a room at a house that is closer to the college, cheaper and where the landlords do not come every three weeks to make me feel unclean and anxious. I am usually not this critical. Something is wrong with me...

Maybe it is the fact I have four tests next week. Perhaps it has to do with how tired I am from standing for 5 hours in order to skin a Virginia Opossum (Didelphis virginiana) and not even getting half way done. It could even be that I am pissy that the landlady says that I have changed my personality for the worse. Whatever the reason, I do not like how stirred up I get when she is around. I don’t like that I am feeling afraid to go back to that house.