Jenobi's World

Life can feel like a prairie road. Those roads lined with rows and rows of wheat, with no cross-roads, direction signs, street lights, or other cars. "Fields of Gold" as Sting wrote. The blazing sun beating down, blinding your eyes through your sunglasses. A breeze nowhere to be found, the crows sitting on the fences with their mouths agape, attempting to cool off as their bluish black feathers take on every degree of unbearable heat. The monotony can be dulling at times, like the sound of a metronome, the ticking of a clock, the dripping water from a leaky faucet. The thought of summer heat and golden sunshine, sounds warm and attractive, while Autumn is in full force, maple leaves lining the streets. The damp cool air is shocking, sneaking its way to my bones. The early nights arrive and the city becomes quiet, every apartment glowing with light as West Enders create their den for the winter months. The aroma of home cooking is on every floor; burning wood drifting in the ...

Everyone has an addiction. There is not one person in this world without some kind of repetitive action that gives them some kind of lift. There are limitless addictions from obvious bad habits, like smoking, to dangerous addictions, like heroine. There are harmless addictions, like washing your hands, and there are strange addictions, like hoarding. Lives can be limited by addiction, unable to break free of the jail they have created.  I have addictions and have quit a nasty unhealthy smoking addiction almost four years ago. In those addicted personalities will always be a little pinch in your brain reminding you of your past dependency. Since quiting smoking I discovered a new habit which turned into an addiction: shopping. Buying clothing, shoes and purses seems to have replaced my need to allow nicotine to float through my blood vessels. Quitting smoking finally made me me feel healthier, resulting in me actually losing weight and looking better. I decided to purchase some b...

October is in full force as the last rays of sunshine warmed Vancouver yesterday in a final attempt of escape before the cool damp air socks us in. The traffic in the West End has settled and the pedestrians are all carrying out their grocery shopping routines. There are few tourists populating the sidewalks, leaving room to see the local shops slow down, and frozen yogurt stores close for the cold months. The sound of a jack hammer fills the air as a business renovates into new condominiums. Watching Denman Street now, one would never imagine the hustle and bustle during the key summer months. I worked an enormous amount of hours over the summer, and previously, during the months of the Olympics in the winter. The city, is in a type of mourning, with everyone back to work or school, the leaves dying on the trees, falling gingerly to the pavement. There seems to be more life on my balcony, with the finches, sparrows and chickadees fattening up for the winter. The nightlife is desolat...

I hear the ticking of my inherited cockoo clock counting down the time, the seconds of the evening, as I lay in bed waiting to fall into a deep sleep. Inubriated passersby sing, while stumbling home after a night of drinks, possibly at my workplace. A faint belly laugh from a woman tickles the air while cars lumber by looking for a lucky chance of a close parking spot. The click clack of a pair of high heels rises through my bedroom window and a soft murmur of a conversation drifts in and out of my hearing. These are the familiar sounds of my neighbourhood. City life, full of people, sirens, barking dogs, and loud parties surround me, rocking me to sleep. Time is on my mind as I try to sleep. Time in relation to age. I have had the pull of the maternal clock and it has almost past as I start a new beginning in my physical life; the twilight of my young days of verility is at hand, soon to be in the rear view mirror as I wipe the steam from my reading glasses. I realize that my 42 year...