Like a drum, baby don’t stop beating

Looking and searching. Searching and looking.

Time is slowly creeping up for my yearly pilgrimage home. My little road ventures up north, finding things to do, planning out my schedule.

I’m looking forward to the time alone with my dog, time alone with nature, time alone, walking the beaten path and making my own paths.

It’ll be new adventures. It’ll be new experiences. I’ll be new memories.

Life. It beats. That’s one thing that is constant. It beats. Eventually, you’ll stop beating, but the beat still goes on.

* * *

It’s gloomy today.

The freak nature of heat has turned towards the cool, leaving its brightness with the sticky wet humidity.

It bakes, basting our skin in our own sweat.

I’m in side, typing away, watching life happen as I live my own.

* * *

Empty chairs and empty tables.

Life of a hermit.

These are the times that make it for me. These are the time that makes it bearable. The emptiness of things around me. I’m just here, doing my thing, by myself.

No one is around me, but the people that need to be. No patrons, no loud people chatting, no distractions.

I sit as I just type away, thinking and thinking of words to put down. I sit and type and think of other stories that I can tell. I sit and think about the current projects that I have. I sit and think of a solution.

I sit.

Once in a while someone would come in. I glance up, give them a once over and think that is it.

It is time to play a little game.

* * *

Tall Asian guy in the Green shirt:

He’s a computer engineer working at a development company. He came over a while ago from Taiwan, but not at that impressionable age where he was able to fully assimilate into the culture. His way of dress is showing that he’s keeping his fobby sensibilities while trying to fit in at the same time. It’s too much, but it works. We can spot him.

He’s here for lunch at Tsujita, waiting in the long line. He was thirsty, coming in here for a quick tea and boba while his friends, all with similar backgrounds and that one token white guy, wait for their table.

They are all single, out here to just people watch, maybe hopefully catch someone’s eye, while talking about the latest and greatest in technology and maybe a little problem solving about work.

Tis is his life. Tis is their life.

* * *

Time to brainstorm. Time to write.

I think I have gotten to the point where I’m bored with my prose and want to jump back into some screenwriting.

I want to write an action script. I want to write a smart action script with a female lead. She’s not a gung ho unstoppable female lead, but someone that is flawed and can be hurt. She’ll pick up a partner who’s the same. Someone that is broken.

What is it though? What is the plot? What is the story?

I need to brainstorm.

Brainstorm.

Time to switch gears.

Stretching my fingers. Stretching my brain.

Testing the dexterity of these digits that haven’t been put to the daily grind of letters and words and sentences that transcribe the thoughts in my head. It has been a while where these free flowing thought are what they are. Free flowing. Thoughts.

I am always worried about finding something to talk about, something to write about. I am getting the creative juices again, thinking about new projects, new ideas and new scripts. I just need to stop being lazy and just do it. I need to change the way that I live and just be more active in the pursuit of these interests.

Do.

* * *

Change.

It comes slow, but it does come. It comes when it is ready. When there is a strong and united force that brings it on. Old thoughts slowly die as the new ones take its place. Change.

It’s a gradual process that doesn’t happen overnight. It’s slow, methodical, and sometimes it just explodes onto the scene.

Same Love.

Closer to equality. Closer to being the same. It is an idea that should have latched on so long ago, but it is sad that it has taken so long.

But it is here. A step closer to all. A step closer to equality.

No freedom till we’re equal. Damn right I support it.

* * *

Stirring. It stirs from within.

It ravages and howls with ravage intensity.

Its hunger surges through my body to take whatever it is that I can get for sustenance. It wants to devour all. Me

There’s a hunger for difference. There’s a hunger for a new status quo.

Change.

* * *

He drops.

His head cracks hard on the floor.

Everyone stops, not moving. They couldn’t do anything. It was a slow motion accident to them. All they can do is watch.

The howls of the boy blast through the little shop followed by the screams from his aunts, mother, and grandparents, in that order.

His mother reaches him first, picks him up and cradles him. She didn’t see it, but her sister did, the dark wet crimson that was on the ground. More hysteria.

All is quiet, but the soft whimpering of sobs.

* * *

I’m living on such sweet nothings.

I have run out of words to say. I have run out of thoughts to write about.

It has been really difficult to write much of anything. I have no idea why.

Is it because of the brain fog? No idea.

Riding riding, traveling with many others that I’m not familiar with even though they are family.

Family trips are difficult. Trips with people are difficult.

I’m just use to the solitary journeys between with me and my four legged son. Those are the best. Those are the simplest. But I guess every journey and company has their place and time.

* * *

Niagara Falls.

What can I say about it? What is there to say about the majestic falls that softly mists its tears, drenching us with its sorrows?

It was just simply beautiful to see in person and to experience the rage of the fall. The vastness of nature just makes me feel insignificant. It was definitely a treat for me to see it, as a nature lover.

Sure the area was a little touristy, but it is what it was.

As beautiful as the falls was, the wonderment of being at the bottom just getting drenched by its own precipitation, I didn’t have the sense of wonder that I did as when I saw the Grand Canyon for the first time nor when I looked out at Yosemite Valley after the first time climbing up Yosemite Falls. It was grand for sure, but it didn’t touch me with its beauty.

I don’t know why, but I thought it would touch me more than it did.

I’m not saying that I didn’t enjoy it for what it was. It was great. But compared to the other wonders, I guess I just wasn’t as moved. I mean, going to the Grand Canyon for the second time, I was still deeply touched and in awe by the vastness of it. It just put me in my place. My little problems are nothing. I am nothing. We are nothing; just little insignificant specs of sand in the grand scheme of things.

Niagara Falls never made me feel that way. It was a different feeling. Was it because of the company that I went with or was it just that it didn’t do it? I guess I’ll never know.

* * *

Toronto.

It was cool. Like most metropolitan areas, it’s a city and everything that you would expect from a city. Traffic. Public transportation. People.

It was a very clean city with their different neighborhoods and their little quirks.

The best find for us was probably Kensington Market. It was a very quaint and cute area that reminds me of Los Feliz or even Silver Lake. Very hipster, artsy, healthy, bohemian, crunchy.

I guess I am secretly one of them. I never thought I would be. I’m still in denial. I think I’ll always be.

I did find the city to be very walkable, but in my sense of the word walkable — that I just walk everywhere. I never felt at any time I was in danger of being robbed or mugged or in any danger at all. I hardly saw any homeless people.

It was definitely a nice city. One thing that I found interesting was the amount of construction that was going on. There was a shit ton of construction that went on.

Usually for a city, a sign of construction, for the most part is a sign of a strong economy or a sign of growth. Whether that is the case for Toronto, I’m not sure. But interesting indeed.

* * *

The Storm.

It came out of nowhere. It was probably the worst storm that Toronto had in 60 years. It was very very interesting for us.

After we came out of lunch, the wall of dark gray and black came moving in behind the skyline. It was definitely going to rain. Thick clouds. No breaks. Storm clouds.

It was funny because before lunch, just an hour earlier, it was a bright and sunny day with a little cool breeze to stamper the usual humidity.

We were on our way to the ferries to go to Toronto Islands, hoping to spend a few hours there to see the Toronto skyline lit up at night.

Never got the chance.

As we walked onto the ferry, the cloud kept storming its quiet march over the city. The ferryman said it was going to rain and it definitely did. Almost right when we stepped off of the ferry to the Islands, the rain came and it never let up. The boom boom booming of the thunder with the light dance of lightening. It was almost majestic and beautiful if we weren’t stuck under a gazebo trying to steer clear of getting wet.

We’ve been there for about 30 minutes, waiting waiting waiting. Just waiting for an end that will never come any time soon. I was getting impatient of waiting. I need to be out there, doing something. Whether it was waiting for the ferry or go exploring the islands, I needed to be anywhere but under the gazebo; ’cause either way, we were going to get wet.

So the decision was made to get back on the ferry and head back into the city. Five seconds in the rain and we were drenched. Soaking wet.

We got back onto the ferry, got shelter for a few minutes as we patiently hit the city. After we reached land, we had to figure out how to get back to the hotel, or just figure out our plan of action.

Hailing a cab was pointless. Traffic was pretty much at a standstill. The city was flooded. Water was crashing over the curb, reaching over my ankles.

I haven’t been in a storm like this in years. Years! Instead of freaking out, I was actually kind of having fun in the rain, seeing the panic in some people and just how fucking hard the rain was coming down. The city was in a standstill.

We needed to get out of there (shelter under an office building). All I know was that our hotel was a few miles up the street and over a few blocks. We just need to figure out how to get there. I was prepared to walk. So that’s what we did, we walked a few blocks closer to our destination. We braved the rain, the power outage streets, the traffic, the over-ankle-high flooded streets and eventually made our way to Union Station.

Freedom. Salvation. Fucking awesomeness. We can get home.

But looking at the schedule, I had no clue which train to take.

Speaking with a Transit office, he told us that we can actually walk to our destination. At first I was like, ummm, how can we get there without getting wet, but then he said we can use PATH.

It is a series of underground pathways and corridors that connects all of these buildings downtown together. It was a MOTHERFUCKING MOFO BRILLIANT IDEA.

So, our series of unfortunate events turned into one of the most memorable and adventurous things we did in Toronto. I don’t think I would ever forget it. Just plain awesomeness.

By the time we navigated the maze of corridors and buildings and ended up at Dundras Square, the rain stopped, leaving the city stranded in a standstill of wetness and people.

People caught unprepared without umbrellas or those that were, were left without a way home. Subways weren’t running as they were flooded. They relied on shuttle buses, but they come on an inconsistent shuttle, even though they had replacement relief shuttles for the storm. Floods of people push forward trying to get on each bus, but they were soon filled leaving many to wait again, patiently for the next one, and the cycle continues.

The next day, it felt like nothing from the night before happened, but the pictures and news of the event. The city went on. The subway lines ran.

Life went on.

The city weathered the storm.

Toronto — a memorable trip.

* * *

Annoyances.

There were some annoyances on the trip. Most of it probably stems from the fact that I travel alone. That’s who I am, a sole sojourner, paving a path just for me and no other.

It’s just a matter of dealing with other people and their schedule and what they want to do, whereas when I travel alone, I only have to confer with myself.

Usually, I am go with the flow, do whatever and I still believe I am that way on this trip, but there were times where I do feel hindered and it was just a matter of there being a lot of waiting, of not doing anything when we can be doing something else.

There were some annoyances of health issues and things that came along with the food allergies and finding places and things to eat. Or even the constant discussions of all things health related.

In a way, it gave me the motivation to be fit, to exercise more, to excise this sedentary lifestyle that I am living. Maybe it did. I’ll make an effort.

Hopefully it’ll become a habit.

But we will see.

We will definitely see.

* * *

Change is coming. Change is on the cusp.

It all hinges on decisions and commitments and conviction. Change is on the way.

* * *

Travel.

The next one is planned. It will start soon, in about a month.

Looking for things to fill up the many days that I’ll be spending up north, and hoping to fit in some days of relaxation and be with family.

I guess we will see. We will see.

Tis the season to be wanderin’. Tis the time to walk this earth.