Never Think... We're Drones

Wow, it's been years since I wrote anything on this blog, and as I read some of my old posts I realise that this was an open diary of sorts, a place I kept my thoughts. I see that many of the old wounds I spoke of have healed, faded to insignificant scar tissue. 

I look back and think that at the time, I thought these things the most painful of my life. I realise now, that what I had were paper cuts compared to the gaping wounds that now scar me. But I find solace in knowing that now I have people in my life who will sew the wounds back together when they become to much for me to bear...

Death; are we every truly prepared for it? As you stare him in the face and look into the black... Are you prepared? How do you prepare? Do you buy a casket? Draw up a will? Try to remember that song, the one you always said you wanted to be the last song you heard. The song you want to be the one that sends goose bumps down the arms of those who love you when they hear it come on the radio, as they're stuck in traffic, trapped in their car, slumped against the stearing wheel, tears pricking in their eyes...?

What memories do you hope they speak of, as they stand in front of your casket, staring out at all of the people who loved you, or liked you, or felt that they should be there; to say goodbye? What moments in time mattered? Who will they speak of? The person you think you are? The person they thought you were? Or some person in between?

What questions will they ponder, after you're gone; of life and love and God? Will they think kindly of the world that took you away? Or will they face the world with blackness in their heart, and renounce any hope of a deity that would allow them to see you again? Will the world become a black, empty place that holds no chance for happiness or hope? 

Will you regret not taking chances you had? Or be satisfied with the life you lead? Are we ever truly satisfied? 

When the minutes of your life are counting down, when only mere seconds remain, will you beg for more time? Will you believe you deserve it? Will you pray to a God you never truly believed in? Or will you accept the end with one last breath?

What about those you leave behind? Will you pray for a God that would allow you to see them again? 

When all you have left is one chance to make the wrongs right, will you take it?

When all that remains is one last thought to say aloud... What will it be? Who will you speak your last words for? Yourself? Your family? Your friends? When the house is burning down around you... Who will you save?

These questions have been swirling around the sinkhole that is my mind... And answers seem to escape me, no matter how hard I search...

...When all I have left is a box of memories and a wound that festers and burns and refuses to heal, will I regret the things I didn't say...?

"No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true. --Steve Jobs"

I dub thee, Crazy Day!!!

4th of January 2011
8:37am

Okay, so at the moment I’m sitting on a bus that is taking me, well… around the world. But my destination is Gosford. I will eventually get there; it will just take me about an hour and a half, even though Gosford is really only about 20 mins away.

Why am I doing it? Well, I’m going to Gosford to meet up with a friend, Shorty. (If you read the ‘Introduction to the Asylum’ package, you’ll know who she is.) I’m taking her a Crazy Day present. Now I know I haven’t explained about Crazy Day before, so I’ll give you the 411.

Crazy Day is a day that we invented years ago. How many years? I’m not sure, but a fair few. Crazy Day occurs on… well, any day you want it to, All that’s required is a random gift and a letter. I haven’t actually written Shorty’s letter yet. In fact, I’m not even sure I have a piece of paper on me.

I wonder if an email or a mention in my blog would count as a letter? Hmm… *ponders*

Anyway, today the random gift Shorty will be receiving is ~drum roll~ a set of USB microphones for Wii!!! So, random huh?

Well really it’s not quite as random as you’d think. I bought U-Sing for my Wii a few weeks back and Shorty and her Husband (Blakus, see aforementioned ‘Introduction’) came over and played it for a while. I thought they enjoyed it so I got a set of mic’s for them. (I’m also lending them my U-Sing game, cause what use would the mic’s be without a game?) *crosses fingers* I hope she likes it. :D


So, I’m quite hopeful that something interesting will happen to me on the way to Gosford. ‘Cause it’s kinda gunna suck if the most interesting thing about this blog is my excessive use of exclamation points!!!

~Some time later~

Sadly, nothing of astounding interest happened to me on the bus ride. I did manage to find a post-it note to write Shorty’s Crazy Day letter on though. Then me and Shorty played U-sing and tortured her neighbors. Fun was had. :D






8th of January 2011
12:45pm

Today is the one year anniversary of the day my Nan passed away. I guess all I can say is I really didn’t realize how much I’d miss her. I didn’t really start to get close to her until just a few years ago. I feel like I wasted a lot of time not knowing her. I mean, I knew her, and I visited her with family on special occasions like Christmas and stuff, but I was really just a kid, I didn’t value the time with her, I just complained that I wasn’t somewhere else… now I wish I could get some of that time back.

I guess that saying ‘You don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone’ really rings true here.

I don’t really know what my religious beliefs are, God, Jesus and all that… it’s not something I really know about, or concern myself with. But, no matter my beliefs, I do hope that my Nan is somewhere at peace. It’s kinda sucky thinking that at the end of this all you get is a wooden box or an urn that gets carted around by relatives and forgotten about until one day when someone accidentally lets one of the kids near it and then… well, you’re dust.
Maybe that is all there is, but for my Nan, I hope it’s something better.

So, here is a little something from a song I really love, that describes a lot of what I feel right now. I really love that about music, that it can describe a feeling I can’t.


I still can’t believe you’re gone, but you still live on in me. I feel you in the wind, you guide me constantly. I carry the things that remind me of you. In loving memory of the one that was so true. You were as kind as anyone could be, and even though you’re gone, you still mean the world to me.
--Alter Bridge, In Loving Memory.


Anyway, I’ll stop this crazy rambling. This, I think, will be my blog for the week. I don't know if anyone actually reads my blog, and to be honest, it doesn't really bother me if no one does, it's more for me than anyone else.

I know, for the one person who reads this just to be obnoxious, 'Why write a public blog if you don't want anyone to read it?' I don't mind if someone reads it, it's not a diary entry, I simply don't mind if no one does.


So, you probably don't know this about me yet, but I'll let you in on a secret. I'm kinda addicted to quotes. So you will most likely see them at the bottom of the majority of my posts, and here is today's...


"Life is like a coin. You can spend it any way you wish, but you only spend it once."
--Lillian Dickson

Enter, the key players...

Okay, so here are the key players in this blog, aka The Family.

You'll probably hear about them, so I thought I'd introduce them.


Enter...



So, this is my mom, aka Mother. She’s kind of the center of this craziness. She did spawn my brothers and I, so… yep, she has to be crazy. She keeps the craziness fun though.

Her place in the asylum… she’s the one who keeps us all together. She's the one always walking around barefoot, like the hippie she is, telling us to love, not fight.

Her superpower… courage. It might not seem like much when you’re thinking superpowers. But it is. This is a woman who is both courageous enough, and crazy enough to walk outside into a field of flowers with no shoes on, even though she’s deathly allergic to bee’s.


Enter...


So this is my Dad, aka Parental, he’s kinda on the outskirts of the asylum. He likes to hang in his own room, do his own thing. A gypsy I guess. But he’s always the first one there when someone needs something.

His place in the asylum, wanderer. He’s the guy that wanders around, muttering to himself and trying to find spare part off anything so he can turn his toaster into an Army Tank, crazy part? Give him enough time and you just might see that tank go past your window.


Superpower…well, heart. He cares a little more than he should I guess. Sometimes I don’t think he keeps enough of himself for himself. He’s the carer.


Enter...


This is my older brother Daniel, aka Brother. He’s the hot-headed member of the family.

I guess his place in the asylum… he’d be our resident psycho. You know, that one you wouldn’t voluntarily cross. Has to use plastic forks at meal time and still manages to turn them into shivs. As brothers go, he’s not that bad. I mean, I know a lot of brothers that are worse.

His superpower… charisma. I’ve never met anyone else in my life who could talk people to their will like he can. It’s a talent, for sure. (He’s also a pro Poker player)


Enter...


Okay, now we have, Johnny, aka The Kid. He’s my little brother, a pain in the ass sometimes, sure. But he’s a great kid. Now, I know he gets really sick of my mother and I and our unremitting need to act like dickheads, but I think really he loves that about us, even if he does complain.

His place in the asylum, stop-out. He’s the guy who is forever getting day release, and no one knows how. Maybe he’s bribing the warden, I don’t know. But for every minute he spends in the asylum, he spends one somewhere else. Where? Well, no one is quite sure. I think the important part is, he always comes back.

Superpower… music. So, technically, not a superpower. But from the day this kid picked up his first guitar, it was all he thought about (Until he got a girlfriend, but y’know, boys *sigh*) He can pick up a song from just listening to it a few times. If that’s not talent, I don’t know what is.


Enter...


This is Tracy, aka Shorty. (Best Friend) She’s a lifer. Self committed I guess. She doesn’t have to be here, she’s crazy, sure. But if she tried she could pass for sane. She does all the sane things that normal people do. You know, get married. Have a good job. Save money for a house. Plan for kids. She’s the one who has everything worked out. So it makes no sense that she’s here, right? Wrong. She’s here for me. Sometimes I don’t know why she stays, but I’m always glad she does. Truth is, I really don’t know what I’d do without her.

Her place in the asylum, prankster. Yep, she’s the one who’s always got something up her sleeve. You always want her on your side on games night. She makes everything interesting. She’s the one who swaps everyone’s medication around on a Friday night because she doesn’t like the scheduled movie. She makes the things that don’t seem like they could be interesting, the most interesting things of all.

Superpower… distraction. Now, I know you have a question mark flashing above your head right now, don’t you? But let me explain. Shorty is the one you chase down the corridor if you’re having a crappy day. Why? Because she’ll find a way to distract you with whimsy. She’s the one you go to because you need relief from the world. If only for a second.


Enter...


This is Chantelle, aka Telle. There was a time when I thought she was too crazy, so much so in fact, that I didn’t really give her a chance in the beginning. I think one of the smartest things I’ve done in my life is give this girl a chance to enter my heart. Because now, she’s crawled in, curled into a little ball and taken one of the biggest parts.

Her place in the asylum, eccentric. She can make anything amazing. You give her a paperclip, she’ll amuse you, and herself for hours. You draw some lines on a page, she sees a wonderland. She sees the world in a way most people only wish they could. You can often see her wandering the hallways of the asylum mewing, or barking, making the days more interesting, and not even noticing.



Superpower… sincerity/integrity. She is the only person I’ve ever met in my life who I can honestly say is non-judgmental. She takes every person for who they are, no matter what. I know I’ll never meet another person like her, and I’m glad for that. She’s an original, a one of a kind. The rarest of them all. You never need to be anyone else around her, all you have to be is yourself. There is a relief in that, that’s like nothing you’ve ever felt.


Enter...


So this is Natasha, aka Satan. She’s one of the newer members to the permanent asylum line-up. In the beginning I think she was dragged in, but now I think she’s grown to like it here. Doesn’t stop her from wanting to escape though.

Place in the asylum, escape artist. She’s the one who spends her days and nights planning the perfect escape, says a big farewell. Escapes for a few days and gets thrown back in three days later. Whether she gets caught or comes back by choice no one is really sure. I guess you could say she’s a glutton for punishment. She knows she’s crazy, but she loves making people believe she’s not.


Superpower… brains. She’s got all the brains. Knows she could escape for good if she really wanted to, but something pulls her back. She makes the plans.


Enter...


This is Blake, aka Blakus, the husband of the Best Friend. So, guilty by association? He doesn’t really choose to be here. But it’s kinda like jail. There's no trouble getting in, the problems will come when he wants to get out.

His place in the asylum, conjugal visit. He’s not a permanent fixture. Just an occasional drop in. But he does have the right kinda crazy to stay. He’s part of the yellow army (luckily that’s not like a gang or something) and he may just be the worlds most hectic dancer.

Superpower… confidence. So, in an insane asylum, confidence isn’t something you often see, but this guy has it in spades. I don’t think I know anyone who is more comfortable being themselves than he is. It’s something a lot of people wish they had.


Enter...


This is Jessica, aka JessJess. So it got to confusing for people having two Jess’s so, we renamed newcomer Jess, JessJess. She’s the girlfriend of the Kid. She spends a lot of time in the asylum, so she became an honorary member.

Place in the asylum, unintentional comic relief. So, she is a person with the natural ability to make people laugh. She’s not blonde, but with the things she says, sometimes you gotta wonder. She is kinda the epitome of a ditz. She says things without thinking and all you can do is laugh.

Superpower… laughter. So, I don’t really know how to make laughter into a suitable superpower. All I know is, since this girl joined the asylum there has been a lot more laughter. Maybe she means it, maybe it’s a natural thing, I’m really not sure. All I know is, life is a lot more interesting with JessJess in it.


Enter the mascots!!!


Napolean, oldest and most trusted mascot. At almost thirteen years old he’s a veteran member of the asylum. He’s been around almost from the beginning. He’s always stuck around, even though he’s probably had better places he could be.

Place in the asylum, Wiseman. Maybe it seems silly (well, it is an insane asylum) but if there were someone in the asylum you’d want to talk to, or get advice from, it’s him. It might seem ridiculous to try to get advice from a dog, but really, who better?

Superpower… unconditional love. People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life like loving everybody all the time and being nice. Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long.

Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly.


Enter...



This is Peek-a-boo aka Peek. She’s might be small, but don’t be confused, she is the boss. She’s had a hard life, and at times I’ve wondered if the asylum is the best place for her. But after three years together, I know that the asylum is the only place for her.

Her place in the asylum, shining star. She can brighten up any day. She’s had a hard life, being run over by a car, while she was pregnant. Crushing her pelvis. Almost being killed several times over by vets. It’s been challenging for her, to say the least. But through everything, she’s always been the worlds happiest dog (as long as you don’t put her near children)

Superpower… comfort. She’s the toy you wanna cuddle for warmth, or contact or just so you know you’re not alone. Maybe it’s strange, but one cuddle from Peek and the darkness of a room doesn’t seem so overwhelming.


Enter...


This is Shikari-Sha-Gon aka Kari. Scaredy cat. Afraid of his own shadow. Won’t walk on grass or dirt. Hates water. Mud. Bugs. Spiders. People. Strangers. Most members of the asylum. Raw foods.

Place in the asylum, comparison. So, basically, Kari is a crazy as they come and he knows it. Good thing is, everyone else knows too. And one thing everyone agrees on, no one in the asylum is crazier than Kari, which is comforting to many.

Superpower… entertainer. Watching Kari run away from his own shadow is one of the most enjoyable past times in the asylum.


And lastly, enter... me


So this is me, Jesyka aka The writer. Maybe the craziest of all. Why? Well, I’m the volunteer. I’m the one, who strange as it is to believe, chooses to be here. Maybe I’d still be here, even if I chose not to, I don’t know. I don’t think I ever will. So why do I stay? Well… I love that feeling. You know the one, that feeling that maybe, just maybe, this is really where you belong.

My part in the asylum? I guess I’m not really sure about that… only time will tell. Sometimes I’m the instigator, sometimes I’m the peacemaker. It’s like the roll of a dice with me.

My superpower… I’m not sure yet. Maybe writing. Along with being the volunteer, I’m the story teller. I document. So that’s what I’m doing… I’m telling the story.

The story of my life in the asylum… aka My family.




"Life is far too important a thing ever to talk seriously about."
Oscar Wilde