Friday, February 3, 2017
Sunday, January 11, 2015
Monday, June 11, 2012
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Since my last post, Wolf has begun a new adventure which requires us to work more than full-time hours with no pay, yet. Kitten works in the same place, one day/week, and is the only one of us with a pay cheque. We have 2 additional people living in the house (to help with rent, haha), neither of whom have pay cheques. This work also makes it really difficult for me to draw (I've got something going on in my joints/tendons which has resulted in constant pain and numbness from my shoulders to my fingers) and Wolf's ankles are degenerating at a visible rate from being on his feet over 70 hrs/week.
Yup, things are pretty dire. And yet, every morning the sun rises. Time just keeps going. The world is not ending (even though it feels like it is) and that means there are still options.
I'm looking and open to possibilities. I'm available Sundays from 4pm and Mondays until whatever time can get me to the bus stop by 3:05pm.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
I have been writing, just not here. I have windows live writer - or some such equivalent - which holds more entries than this one (even though it looks the same and publishes to this one with and internet connection and the push of a button).
Friday, December 16, 2011
It’s one of those Twilight Zone afternoons. The fog is thick enough, beyond the trees, to make me question the existence of a world beyond. (Am I removed from space and time, trapped in a finite universe, away from all that once was?) Quiet and eerie, the air casts a violet haze over all I see. Even the Christmas lights seem out of place, their cheer failing to reach beyond the gloom.
Darkness comes early these days; quick enough that you can watch it fall if you’re patient. I can’t watch, though. I’m uncomfortable with this moment. All I can do is glance up now and again, sometimes to be pulled into the heaviness.
On nights like this, dusk has a soul and it isn’t peaceful. Eerie gives way to sinister as dusk approaches. It comes, creeping, slithering down our streets and onto lawns, searching for… what, I do not know. Shade with no sunlight, it travels on the wheels of fear and desolation.
The heaviness thickens, coagulating into a sickening sense of terror and despair – the screaming wail that waits just below the breastbone for one more second.
Then, as dusk deepens past twilight, the air loses its menace. The street light pours out an amber glow over the neighbourhood and - just like that – it’s simply night time.