Flash Fiction Friday: A Hunger for Urban Serenity

Unlike how most stories start, it was a lightly cloudy afternoon. George was spending the day looking for a place to sit and meditate; a place to be alone with his thoughts. However, in a place as big as Toronto, tranquility can be hard to find; especially with the commotion and uproar there is near his apartment building with three junior public schools in the vicinity. With the weather being pleasant for the first time in a week, it was an opportunity George did not want to pass up.

George checked his supply of TTC tokens to see if a sojourn on the bus and/or subway was in the cards. Upon seeing he was running low and having no funds to replenish his stock for another fortnight, George decided he would have to find a point of outdoor solitude on foot. Dismayed at first, he relished the thought of getting some exercise in his quest. Admittedly, George had been packing away the Doritos in the few days prior. He was an emotional eater and the previous week of cold and rain did a number on his psyche. George was determined to escape from his funk and take advantage of the reprieve Mother Nature had bequeathed him.

The question of where to head to was a quandary to George. He knew of two places to reach within walking distance from his hi-rise abode; both of which offered a pristine setting within view of the lake they call Ontario. While Bluffers Park would be the most picturesque, George realized it was a further walk; plus the sloping access road would be treacherous to climb back up. He had made the trek there during the wee hours of the morning two months prior and remembered how much of a bother it was.

George’s other option involved heading east towards his old stomping grounds in The Guild. He loved the area ever since his high school days when he spent the formidable years of his teenage life hanging around the area. George also remembered the last time he was there he had taken his camera to snap some photos of the sculptures in the public gardens. However, there was a fine crust of snow on the ground then. A return visit with the spring flora out appeared to be in order. The thought greatly appealed to George.

So after much deliberation, George packed his knapsack with a notepad and pen to document his thoughts and struck forth. This would not be a wasted day he concluded. Peace and tranquility with a little sprinkling of people watching was on the menu today at Chez Guildwood, and George was ready to dig in at Nature’s smorgasbord for the senses.

If I Could Be Serious For A Moment

Sometimes all it takes is for someone to speak up to realize you have a voice too.

I never really gave it much thought before, but this week is Mental Health Awareness Week. I've heard of it in previous years, but I never really had it in my consciousness. I should however, as I have known people, previously and currently, who have endured such an illness that was never asked for, but can be a struggle to cope with on a day-to-day basis. I should know this because I too suffer from mental illness and have for quite a long time.

I know that would come as a shock to most people that someone who suffers from an illness isn't cognizant that there is a week to bring light to their ailment. Truth of the matter is, I always thought of myself as someone who takes their medication, sees their psychiatrist, and just rolls with the punches when life throws a curveball in my direction. I know I can't change who I am or how I can rid myself of it, but just do the best job I can to manage daily. But that was until a very dear friend of mine brought light to it in a blog post of her own. (Which can be viewed at: http://blackvictoria.wordpress.com/2010/05/04/mental-illness-awareness-week/ Go on and read it. I'll wait.)

I don't know what it was, but she helped me realize through her words that I'm not alone in this world, as crazy and intimidating as it can be at times. Life is what you make of it; despite of whatever perceived shortcomings one might have. I just know that I now have a "running buddy" so that we can both support each other if and when we need a kind ear or a helping hand in case one of us feels helpless. And for that I say and vow to her, "I will do my best to be there for you, Toria. And I hope you may be able to do the same with me."

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but in the meantime, I know I'll never be alone.

Curtain Call

Nelly Furtado once sang, "Why must all things come to an end?" But what happens when you don't want it to?

Last night, I attended the Toronto Screnzy/NaNo chapter's "Thank God It's Over" Party, and I had an absolute blast. It was wonderful to get together with fellow writers who I've shared the trials and tribulations over the previous 30 days, and to even meet for the first time a couple people I had talked to and worked along side with. The readings of our script excerpts were fun and entertaining; even a little crazy at times. (Zeal and Quirky, you two are the bomb when it comes to acting.) When I got home last night, it all started to sink in: my month of good times, insanity, and triumph had come to a close.

I didn't really expect to feel this way. Well, maybe a bit as there is always a bit of loss and remorse when something you enjoy comes to an end. I just didn't figure it would affect me this much. And while I haven't shed any tears over this (yet), I feel a bit of emptiness inside of me; knowing that in all likelihood, I wouldn't truly be reunited with this great group of friends until the leaves had changed colour and the ominous cold winds of winter start to whisper of the upcoming snow and darkness. While summer is almost upon us, I feel there is a frigid darkness that has begun to creep in as the warm afterglow of this welcoming group starts to fade. It's a feeling I don't want to go into hibernation.

That being said, I just wish there was a way to speed up time so I can be with my fellow writers once again and recapture that aura of all that is fun and crazy. The only problem is, in doing so I'd miss out on a couple other things that are approaching in my life during the months ahead; including my birthday in early August. And considering this is one of those benchmark birthdays where one can start lying about their age for the years thereafter, I want to enjoy the start of my final year where I have a 3 as the first digit.

However, one thing is for certain: while the next 6 months may be bleak, I have one driving thought to last me until the calendar changes to November, and there is one person who knows the significance of it - The planning for "Mission 50,039" starts now!

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but I hope I'm not locked in this theatre. The pre-season starts in mid-June.