Road

Love

Because I enjoy doing things, I always thought others did as well. A man I follow on Twitter confessed that he believed it was a shared human trait.

From my observations this past year, it is not.

When lockdown ended in late June of last year, I was shocked to see how much weight so many people had gained. I’m not talking 10 or 20 pounds, I’m talking 50 to 100.

I thought, what the fuck did these people do for three months?

The answer was clearly nothing.

I don’t know what it would be like to be that incurious. I really, don’t understand it, never have and never will.

One guy admitted that he just played video games all day long. He was pushing 40.

I’ve listened over the course of my years in Toronto as people complain about their lives, how unhappy they are, how miserable they are. And they never take any responsibility. It’s always someone else’s fault, or a city, or a politician, or something so dumb.

People truly cannot take any ownership over their own misery, or how their lives have turned out.

But I think a lot of it comes down to a complete lack of motivation or curiosity about other people and the world. There is so much to do in a day. Even in lockdown, that I can’t believe that most choose to do absolutely nothing.

Lockdown really works in places like Canada, because most people are used to a comfortable life of sitting around, eating shit food and watching television all day long, or playing video games.

It makes it really challenging for me to relate to others, but also, to respect them.

It’s really the helplessness that turns me off. This belief that one is not in control of their own lives.

It’s beyond stupid to think that.

I hear people complain all the time about where they live, how they would be happier somewhere else. Then move is what I say.

But it isn’t the place that makes them unhappy. It’s the conflict they have within their own brains.

I’ve had more than one person in the last year complain to me about having to wake up. Like, literally they were upset that they had to be conscious and start their day.

Now that’s a sign of clinical depression, but it’s also someone I do not want to associate with.

I love waking up and starting my day. There is so much to do and to see and to be happy about, to look forward to. I don’t understand how anyone could be unhappy to live, to be awake, to do things.

Over the course of the year I’ve begun to remove those toxic people, with their narrow-minded focus, from my life.

If I happen to die in 2021 I would like to say that I have really thoroughly enjoyed my life.

It’s been a blessing, truly, to be here on this glorious planet, and to be a part of something magical.

I think sometimes about dying and missing out on all those simple pleasures in life.

What a wonder it is to be able to see. To hear. To walk, to enjoy a pint of beer.

If I die, I’d like everyone to know that I loved almost every single second of my life.

Maybe not the people, true, but everything else!

I know someone who died on her 29th birthday from cervical cancer.

My friend Chris died at 31 from a heart attack.

When you reach my age you really do begin to understand how fortunate you are to be alive.

Every mistake, or hardship isn’t something to be resentful about; they were lessons that helped build my character and made me who I am.

Too many people I know didn’t make it to my age.

They died before they were truly conscious and aware of the miracles of living.

There was a time in November when I was running on the waterfront and the sun was setting. The sky was lava, and I smiled from ear to ear.

I’ll never see something like that again.

I was lucky to be at the right place at the right time and I was aware.

Being present and grateful like that fillls my heart with joy and appreciation.

It’s bliss.

Absolute nirvana.

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