Now time is distributed in a fashion that is more common among humans. The scarcity of time left for creating is not as bad as it could be, but it somehow is harder to do when our mind is not in the right place when it should be. The notion of forcing it to do what I wanted to do has changed as there is little energy to do it, and inspiration is usually concentrated on many other things: Mainly Twitter.

Not to say that Twitter is a bad thing, but the speed at which I can transmit information compared to the traditional way that could be compared to a post is simply depressing. Any good Twitter user does not have to think more than a couple of seconds to compose a proper tweet that may or may not get the attention of more people… some people are talented enough to make many that will meet those conditions over a space of time similar to the amount of tweets.

Ever since time became scarce in our life, the volume of tweets I started to produce also became significantly larger: It is much faster to tweet than it is to blog, and most of the time more people get to read that which I have to say through that media. I am to blame for both things though: I increased my amount of interactions in Twitter while I allowed absolutely all of my blogs to die the most boring deaths they could have possibly experienced. I now am left with carcasses and abortions that never got to see the light of day, and that are most just waiting for me to blow some life into their bodies through content… but I just do not have the will to do such a thing anymore. If I allowed myself to the indulgence of living in the moment, I would probably delete every single one of my blogs in this very moment.

I, however, know better than to let my humanity take away the best of me.

This is pretty much a desperation post through which I hope I can process enough to convince myself to not only balance the amount of information I share through social media, but to also allow myself to finally get back into blogging the way I once did — the way I have always wanted to but have never managed to quite understand and perform. The final result and all that is expected from this last push would be to make a considerable boost to all the online activities in which I am somehow involved in.

Right now I am a mere day away from starting what I believe will be three of the most inspiring weeks of my life: Starting tomorrow with the fifth installment of Kinetik Festival, and then moving on to Toronto’s Anime North just to conclude with a barrage of pictures to process and a whole lot of materials arriving to or waiting at my homeplace upon my return.

I will hopefully have the energy to force myself to post once again, but if I do not… then after the next three weeks something marvelous is sure to happen.

Cheerio,

This is supremely alarming.

During the time we spent in the motherland, we had time to think about the priorities and objectives of our existence as we disposed of many a memory and reviewed what the notions the previous iterations of our self wanted and yearned for. It was a pleasant experience, and it surely helped us develop in more than one way in order to prepare for… what?

Alert. Something hideous comes this way: We discovered that after having many a dream and many an aspiration, our dreams became banal and simple — a mere shadow of what they once were. Quite the amount of ambition gone, and plenty of nonsense taking space that should be used by more useful things.

Not only did we suspend our laboural specialization, but we also stopped learning a vast amount of things altogether for almost a year without stopping. It was not until last week that we started studying a new human language once again, and that we picked a hobby based solely on knowledge that has to be learned/studied (entomology). During the time we spent doing nothing, however, we did… nothing. The pattern began with a lack of interest for the BA we were taking, and it devolved into a separation with absolutely everything we loved with the exception of photography, which managed to thrive in what has otherwise been a completely arid creative environment.

No more writing (no more blogging or stories), no more music making, no more painting and sketching, no more carvings of any kind, and no more philosophic dilemmas were cast in to the abyss. Just a plethora of emptiness so thick that it took us almost a year to realize that it was there.

The hour, however, is most convenient for this realization to have come — as we just opened our photographic portfolio and are about to embark into many an adventure through photography, music, and visual arts in general. Inspiration will thrive and multiply over the next couple of weeks.

This will hopefully kill the human and bring the monster back.

Cheerio,

Communication is one of the basic elements of human interaction. Communication has its own degrees of disgust and simplicity that vary from person to person, culture to culture, and language to language. The basic elements of some of its levels, however, are more easily understood by reducing human expressions to their animalistic equivalents. Treating someone nicely versus being mean in some degree towards someone and the inevitable reasoning behind the reason for each kind of treatment.

Some humans are here just to watch everyone kill each other.

Over the last couple of moons we have had the chance to interact with someone whose only purpose would seem to be to create confusion among other humans, and every truth is converted to an exaggeration of that which can be interpreted as a lie from it. Turning every single notion into something negative and then converting it in such a way that it becomes something poisonous that does nothing but spawn pestilence and create an absolute atrophy in the wheels of normal human interaction.

It could be said that we are supporters of pestilence, but depending on its situation, it can be either socially destructive (relatively good) or logically annoying (disgusting). The latter should not be attempted merely because it serves no purpose at all other than making things work in a slower fashion and create unnecessary conflict between parts that are not mean to be in conflict with each other. It is unfortunate to know that some humans in this world enjoy doing such things without any reason or purpose at all: There are some that justify their actions through a very schadenfreude way of being through the derivation of pleasure through the chaos and suffering of others, but there apparently are some humans who do it just because… no pleasure, suffering, or any kind of emotion is obtained from the resulting confusion infused into others. Nothing is gained – pointlessness is everything that is obtained.

Confusion is good, but making humans fight each other for no reason or purpose is a waste of energy and time. If there is to be a reason for doing such a thing, let it at least be something possessing an existence in whatever realm one can come up with – but doing bad for no reason is absolutely wasteful.

And waste is repulsive.

For the last four years the place wherein most of these memories were found laid dormant and absolutely still. Now that the time has come for it to go away, the need to purify and reduce everything that was found within its walls arose. The notion at first seemed like something simple that would be able to be executed without flaw or effort, but upon venturing into the enterprise for a while longer things turned out to be quite different.

The organic mind in some instances has the convenient capability of associating memories with objects or ideas. Something quite common in the world of humans is to reflect memories through or with objects: A gift, a souvenir, or maybe just a random object that had something to do with a memory on its own… over time it could be harmless depending on the human, but sometimes it is the complete opposite when people just cannot let go.

When young we were taught to keep what others gave us in order to keep those who wanted us to retain a certain memory in order to please those who gifted something, but we were never taught to get rid of things that had little to no value, and by the time we figured it out on our own there was no time left during our days to do that. What happened after many a year of this happening continuously was the storage of many an object and the disposal of absolutely none. The consequences, however simple, were repulsive now that the time of purification had come for them – as there was much to get rid of and little memories tied to the objects that we found; adding the decay of time and the destructive haste of the elements the entire equation proved to be something of utmost disgust for someone to deal with.

Three days, countless streams of blood, and decayed flesh later most of the forgotten memories are finally gone. The things that were kept are scarce, but something that is abundant is the need to get rid of things that are not necessary, beautiful, and useful – for the little things that we have hoarded in our new home are starting to pile up, and that is a notion that we are not willing to accept in any form or manner at all.

Everything must eventually go.

It took quite a while to develop what is commonly known as casual emotion, for the teenage years of our life were spent lying to everyone abut everything in every possible way in order to appear moderately normal when interacting with others. The things that hurt the most as far as learning goes were understanding the emotions of others and acting a way slightly close to what society teaches humans to act like.

Acting in society is something that we are definitely not meant to do properly: Not in that of our motherland nor in those which we usually are involved in (Canadian and online societies), but now that an opportunity has risen to interact with one with which we have had little contact (motherland), there are things that are surprisingly depressing as far as our abilities to interact and coexist with others go: Family is the one thing that we are not yet able to understand and act properly in its presence. It was a space of many years during which we decided not to have any contact with the family other than that which we were forced to have; a space wherein most relationships with family turned into something stale and awkward… notions that have made interaction with family half a decade after the disaster rather difficult.

The last time we were here we had a similar opportunity to interact with friends and family that did not turn out quite the way we desired: There was little to talk about, not many a relative expected anything from us, and we did not know what to do before these situations. Communication was eerily complicated whereas it should have been natural, and the situational emotions displayed by all parties were stale and relatively false. We messed up somewhere along the path and there were many a wound left to patch and heal now… but they are far from that point. In most cases it is plentifully hard to have proper communication without a medium to intervene in those moments where both parties know that there is something wrong, and while there are many individuals with which the damage was moderate or nonexistent, there are plenty of others where the damage can be seen and felt instantly. The things we did left scars that have remained in place for over half a decade, and over that period of time we have done little to nothing to fix some of them… and that has rendered us an awkward creature in the face of almost forced interactions.

How does one, however, fix something over so vast a space lying in between?

We are children of the modern age: Everything should be able to be done online in some manner to resolve every problem in the world… or at least that is what one would expect could actually happen. Contact through the online world is limited with some individuals that refuse to use it but to have funny with their villas or watching recordings of feline amusement. The fact that we all have poor verbal skills when it comes to phone calls adds to the problem and makes a solution slightly more complicated to obtain.

Something has to be done. Something will be done: How? In the easiest of ways that is simply forcing every attempt until it becomes something natural. Maybe it will work… or maybe it will not. It will be a fun ride nonetheless.

At the beginning they were clearly different as we were trying to adapt to a new environment with completely different notions, ideas, and cultural ways of living. As time went by, things got better for both ends: Being in the motherland with the old notions and ways of being, and living in the new world where we were still learning of things to do and things that were.

Now that we are back to the motherland, however, the notions that once were simply seem… silly.

Once upon a time we had a problem being creatures of two worlds: No longer part of the place where we hailed from, but possibly never fully adapted to the place we now found ourselves in. Now that time has gone by and those notions have been properly assimilated everything seems almost surreal when trying to revert back to the way things were… even if it is just a step back in the constant social evolution that we have been (and will continue) experiencing.

Our share of psychological problems is pretty much nonexistent since there is no room for it while trying to enjoy everything and anything that may cross our paths (videlicet: all the food we have been frantically consuming), and the problems that are being experienced in this trip seem completely banal compared to the issues we once had when life here was the only reality in our path.

Everything seems so surreal.

It no longer is a matter of trying to strive for something different or better, much less trying to survive in the social post-jungle that is the environment that can be breath and felt in every step of the way. It has all turned into a surreal notion of things that could have been and are now naught but fantasy in a place where all that is left to do is squeeze whatever can be obtained from a place such as this one… what once seemed like the life plan is now mostly a fragment of comedic material, and the new plan is surprisingly distant from what once was reality.

Much like a science book that turned into fiction.

Oh, how have things changed.

Over the course of a week I prepared ideas and notions for a post I had wanted to write for at least a month, but did not really have what was needed until just about a week ago. The post itself was written over the course of an entire day, and the ending result was somewhat decent to some, and barely acceptable from my point of view: It seems as though my sole objective was to drill a hole into my reader’s minds while trying to teach them a couple of socially useless words. While this dynamic works in the specific type of fiction I have been preparing for the last couple of months, it does not roll quite nicely with essays intended to be entertainment in a blog.

A series of critiques have been provided, and so things have to change… somehow. Writing will have to be something to focus more on: From the personal erratic style presented in this blog, the extremely complicated that any fiction I write — whether it is posted here or not — has, and the more formal and, depending on my audience, direct writing I will be doing through criticizing notions and reviewing creations. As pointed out by a series of individuals, there is nothing left to do but writing.

So I made this filler post while I thought up things to write about. Here is a random picture from last year:

Cheerio,

Worst idea… and not.

During those few days spent dwelling in the darkness of the night, much progress was made making plans for life, economy, and much more banal notions as networking, research, and reading were performed on a daily basis. Something that was unfortunately not part of the schedule was creating — for as a creator of repugnance, one is not able to properly create anything when well rest and while spending vast amounts of time relaxing with nothing in this world to worry about. No… this creature needs chaos in order to produce a proper amount of chaos.

Introducing mayhem into our life.

During one of the days spent trying to rebel to the newly adopted system in which one is currently trapped, a series of devices and ideas came to be and have been slowly but steadily moving on towards the land of the real and flesh. One decided to put one’s two year old media/aniblog out of its misery in favour of recycling its domain name for one’s photographic portfolio… the notion that started it all. After sharing a previously taken photograph, someone was kind enough to point out that the picture was great and that more from the series/event were looked after first finding that specific picture… but there was no success in the enterprise of this person as it did not know who took it or where it was taken. The data needed to know such a thing must have been embeded within the file, but alas… not something within the realm of the usual. The idea to come up with a watermark was then formulated, and after a lot of experimentation and many frustrated attempts at doing a proper watermark including some basic information along with an URL to link, it was discovered that there was no way that the domains/names being used for the experiment would ever meet the quality standards needed to start publishing pictures with such a tattoo on their hides.

Visual Violence was a website originally conceived to be a news site wherein a team would provide information on diverse subjects varying from technology to banal entertainment in the form of comics and cartoons, movies and plays; all along with the usual things that a tech blog would produce. A team was quickly assembled, and mere days before release… the team came to an end. What did not come to an end, however, was the fire within one to pursue such a venture. Such it was that the fate of the blog remained the same in spite of being a dozen times shorter on staff than expected. Alas, it was not meant to be and mere hours after the first series of posts it was discovered that there was no way to keep up with the pace similar blogs had without a team. The idea to convert the blog into an aniblog was then conceived and implemented, and VisualViolence came to be once more and roared through its +140 post run… until its maker began to run on fumes and the project was forsaken into oblivion.

visualViolence? Is that not a perfect association to something… visual? Last week it became apparent that the fate of that aniblog was no longer something of this world, and the blog itself was put to rest. The domain and wordpress installation live, but there is no content to be shown and there will not be for a period of time while imagination runs wild and creates something new to present photographic captures in.

Something funny happened then: For a couple of months, one had been devicing ways to bring the former aniblog back to life, and now that those topics were unbound and fresh… something had to be done (and was done).

Proudly wearing a slightly modified version of one of vV’s former vessels, Lovelily Plagued is the newest tumour in the compound that is this website and its many extensions (siblings). There is no content in there at the moment, and the blog itself is only waiting for two shows in the current anime season to stop airing to have a weekly amount of content delivered to its feet. While the blog itself will begin updating next Tuesday (and will do so for as long as one’s vessel allows). the idea and the body are merely waiting for blood to be spilled in order to show the world about a very specific form of love.

Photography is currently in an odd place: There is enough motivation to create a portfolio for the pictures that have already been taken, but there are not a lot of things to take pictures of at the moment. There are certain things on the way that will be worthy of attention, but the general pace of the world is still too cold to have many a sight landing in one’s feet without any effort. In these remains of ice and snow, one has to look deep down with curiosity and passion to find the extra inch that is missing from this season.

The cold is pretty much gone, as is the agony of having absolutely too much time in one’s hands. The days to come will be filled with plenty of sights and sounds to capture and write about. The weekend before us alone will provide enough information to satisfy a need that has been continuously starving for the longest time ever since this horrid season of whites and blues came to be.

Wish us luck, and have a great day.

One’s very first Winter in Montreal was a plethora of chaos and confusion: One remained indoors for days on end, forsook almost every kind of physical activity, and adopted an attitude of isolation from the outside world. Coupled with the odd sleep patterns that joined my path during that time, it can be easily said that one’s first Winter was dangerously simple. One simply knew not what to do and it took me a lot of remorse to realize how wrong one was in one’s ways… but not enough to prevent me from repeating one’s own mistakes for a second and almost a third time.

The main problem with Winter is that one finds the lack of colour and difficulty in transportation something unbearable to behold and experience. The absence of contrast was not a big issue until the very first of one’s photographic apparatuses was acquired: Then it became a battle against pretty much every picture looking the same, or resorting to taking pictures in interiors… something one has never been a fanatic of. As far as transportation goes, one is a very warm individual, and as much as one would love to say that it is not a problem to stay outside for hours… it is. For the oddest of reasons.

The past Winter and the current one have definitely been different in the fact that more experimentation has been done, but a big difference between the past Winter and this one is definitely the amount of cold and snow. Videlicet, this Winter feels much more like Spring, which leads one to believe that things might just be strangely different once Spring comes our way. Most snow from the streets is gone, the temperature is mild enough for people to go out with a single layer and no coats on, and the many colours of the world are once again surfacing from under their layers of ice and snow. It is a lovely sight indeed.

Let us hope it remains this way.

One has never been kind to staying inside for long periods of time and only going outside for a limited amount of time, and since photography was picked as a main hobby in this particular path one has been walking, it is most inconvenient to remain trapped within the interior of a building (or buildings) with no things to take pictures of… and since one is too lame and shy to request other humans to play a role in that respect, things might just remain silent and calm for the rest of this season (a commitment has been made to change the model-model once Summer kicks in). There are just so many things that one can capture in an interior as an amateur learning the ways of taking pictures.

The lack of snow and decent weather will hopefully make a lot of lovely ones come out from their cavernous dwellings to have their fun, and to allow one to capture many a memory to show the rest of the world.

Cheerio,

Every year for some reason or another I suddenly decide to neglect my blogs and pretty much every other activity I do online and offline for the sake of doing close to nothing. This year, however, I managed to pull through with one activity that I decided to stick with for the rest of the year in order to obtain valuable information as I performed it: My 365 (366) project on Flickr. Of all the things I decided to stick with, I have at least remained constant with one.

Blog posting, as usual, is more of a messy affair for a large variety of reasons.

I originally stopped writing at the beginning of February due to the fact that I was once again facing excruciatingly annoying wrist pain after I hurt my already weakened left wrist as I moved furniture around my own chamber. One of the biggest reasons why I have moderated my writing over the last year have had a lot to do with me being careless and hurting my wrist only for them to get worse in one way to another: Last year I hurt my left wrist while riding my bicycle, and after I gave up cycling for the season (thanks to the pain) I unwisely made it worse with severe amounts of videogames both at work and at home. When the end of the year (last year) began crawling on me, I was already on my road to recovery. The entirety of January was spent painless, but most of February was a completely different story… until I found a series of exercises to increase flexibility and strength on my wrist. The pain went away, and I am once again back on the right track…

Except I do not exactly know what the right track is this time.

This year I wanted to do something completely different for my birthday: I wanted to gift myself the opportunity to properly write in most of my blogs as I somehow relaunched them from their VERY dormant states: Most of them have not seen a single post in over a year, and those that have just had no content and a laughable amount of traffic when comparing them to their days of glory. March 6th was the date when I decided I was going to bring down this hideous construct of no activity, but when the time came for me to lay down my fingers on my keyboard and spill my mind on it… I knew not how to. Instead of gifting myself some writing on my birthday, I gifted myself a whole lot of thinking just minutes after the day started. Then I found it…

A gift from my mother, and one I did not expect at all. As simple as it may sound, the entirety of Dr. Seuss lovely creation Oh, the places you’ll go! was exactly what I needed to read. The message itself is something I have present most of the time, but the wording itself just made everything click and it also made the wheels within my mind spin with passion — and it also made them spin into a wildfire of rage and desire.

This was two days ago though… where are the posts? No-where. Before deciding to start writing this, and a series of posts that will follow over the next couple of… decades, I also decided to think a certain amount of things over and over until I clearly understood what I wanted from certain aspects of my life. It is today, on the third day of the newest adventure I find myself in, that everything will slowly start changing into something… marvelous.

Stay tuned for something entertaining.

Have a great day,