Band of Two

Friday evening was Amrit's bon-voyage; it was a typical dinner at Cactus Club followed by a not-so typical jamming session on Granville St.
While in school, where guitars lie around classrooms, lounge, and who knows where's, Isabel and I have picked up a new hobbie; jamming! With amature skills and high spirits, we began to, Isabel with her guitar and me with my random instruments, play tunes everywhere we went. Including the streets!

Haha, and you thought you'd never see the day!
I was surprised when people actually came to watch us instead of turning the other way. And we even got a "fan" named Brad. We're just one step away from fame!
Oh, and just for the record, the change in the casket is my own.


The night fled fast and came morning, followed by noon at Granville Island. When your relatives visit Vancouver from across borders, Granville Island makes at least top ten on the destination list. With its artistic and friendly ambiance, I think it shows off a liberated and creative lifestyle that takes up a small place in everyone's hearts. It's made up of independent artists, including a wide variety of musicians, photographers, magicians, and all that good stuff, making it an ideal place for a easy, pleasant daytime chill.

It's the perfect place for the Jazz Festival's free shows; every year, it never disappoints me. Saturday's five o'clock show was by a local nu-jazz group called Bess Durey Band, with Bess Durey, the vocalist's, youthful and floating voice and some serious hippie lyrics. I enjoyed their unique style of something that sounds a lot like Elizabeth Shepherd.

As I sat enjoying the music and my icecream, I felt something on my head... A pigeon poop. According to Soo and Chris, it's supposed to be good luck... I'm tryna stay positive here! But seriously... DAMMIT.

Today's show was really amazing. It was by one of my favorites, the Grand Trine, with vocal, bass, keyboard, and trumpet. And no pigeon poop.

Frozen Emotions Shake

We don't know how to feel anymore. Where "happiness" is a vital ingredient to well-being, it has also become the sign of power and one's significance. So like many other things overrated, overused then devalued, it lost its meaning. Ever since "happiness" and ___ started to come in a package, we started to seek happiness not for the sake of being, but looking happy.

Maybe it has always been this way; faking happiness and suppressing depression to a point where we don't recognize our feelings. You think you're happy but wrong! you're just comfortable. You think you're in love, but beep! it's your defense mechanism in fear of loneliness and your heart in denial. No matter how much we try to distill it, emotions will always be unidentifiable compounds and never the pure elements that would make our lives so much easier.

I tried feeling genuinely sad today when my cat got unexpectedly hospitalized and took $500 with him. Or was it guilt? Anger? Disappointment, shame, pity, confusion? Confusion for sure, all the time. Anger towards lots of things, guilt for being unemployeed, shock towards these unforeseen costs, and lots of unpleasant emotions, so unpleasant because of their anonymity, eating me away and caving in that hollowness.

But maybe this is just how we are designed; emotions are always supposed come mixed and unable to identify, and we're never really meant to experience that sense of peace or be in our "happy" place.

Ouch

Refer to this video when you got the blues or... a little headache :D

LOL.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2dA-AL90_RE

Plague

Just a few days ago, as I sat in my living room retired from the 20 something degree heat, I noticed a sound that went something like BZZZZZZZZZZZZ.
I look outside, where the sound was coming from, and I literally had to blink over and over again because I thought I was seeing random dots because of the heat. Then I realized it was a colony... no, a plague of bees.
I hurried over my mom, and she kept telling me to call 911... So I did... And they put me on hold! wtf?! When they picked up, I'd told them the situation; they told me that they are not responsible for this. Just when I'd just finished persuading my mom and myself that 911 is completely irrelevant to this situation, they said they'd put me through to the police... wtf?!

Anyways, here's a clip of the plague... All the little scratchy black and white dots are bees!

I used to swim

Obsessions become your worst enemy when you have priorities.
Just when you think you've come to the surface, you find yourself drowning right back again.
But neither the surface nor the bottom ever seems reachable and you're left choking, waking up morning to mourning, to regret.

Don't try to save yourself because you'll never have enough.

I hate my obsessions. All 1001 of them.