I am thinking that I'm going to stop paying for this account any longer--I just don't update enough to warrant paying $20 a year just to keep my photos in the database.

Perhaps I've outgrown this blog, finally. It's been running since June 2004--almost 8 years ago. It feels like decades have passed since then--I don't think I am that same person anymore. Maybe it's time to finally move on.

I've started a new website to talk about everything under the sun having to do with dogs. You can see it here: http://luciditys.weebly.com

I'll leave this blog alive... just in case one of these days I suddenly feel inspired enough to write something of significance again.

But till then... see you soon?

I have been really bad at updating, haven't I?

It's the middle of September. Really. Sort of mind-boggling but it's also making me feel relieved that this year is finally, FINALLY coming to an end. It has been the most trying year of my life and to be honest, I can't wait to be rid of it.

2011 has tested me to my breaking point, thrown me more obstacles than I can count, and has seriously jeopardized my mental health. It has been so difficult. So heart breaking, so stressful, and unimaginably unforgiving.

I do not remember any single year of my life being quite this horrible. I just really need it to end so that I can start anew.

Beginnings again: I've finally come to the decision that I'm going to apply for grad school next year. My ticket back into Canada. Will I get in? I don't know. But here's to hoping. I miss Canada so much more than I ever thought I would. Maybe it has to do with the fact that my family's not here with me. I was doing just fine living alone in Canada... but here? Not fun at all.

In other news, it's my little brother's birthday today. He turns 12! And I feel old. Yet again. And 9/11 just passed us by. I can barely believe that it's been 10 whole years since Gene and I sat in the living room, glued onto CNN and watching in horror as the WTC fell. I was studying for my PMR exams, which was just weeks away... and I was all of 15 years old. FIFTEEN.

I can hardly even remember being 15 anymore. I must've been so much less cynical. Less jaded. I must've had so much more faith in humanity than I do now.

I've always wished that I could go back in time and relive a day in my past. Wouldn't it be such an adventure to be able to do that? To see yourself, your friends, and your family the way they were decades ago and marvel at how things have changed without you noticing?

I don't really remember who I was when I was 15 anymore. I think I've changed so drastically that I might not even recognize that person any longer. But that's just life, right? Everything changes. Like BT says in his song... the only constant is change.

In a conversation with my brother today:

Why does my life and my decisions in life affect everyone else?
Why does everyone care so much what I choose to do with my life?
I really really don't understand
Why is my life other people's business in the first place?
Not only does everybody give me shit about being single
Shit about not wanting to get married
Shit about not wanting to have kids
They give me shit in my work life too
WHAT DID EVER I DO TO THEM?? Why do my life choices even affect them? I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY IT'S ANYBODY'S PROBLEM
Why would anyone at work think it's a smart move to mix work with personal stuff?
Why does nobody EVER think that I'm completely, dead serious about what I'm saying?
Why? Do I look like I'm not serious when I say something?
Do I look like I'm kidding?
Do I look like the kind of person who doesn't really know what she's talking about?

Well, here are my answers:

I know what I'm talking about ALL the fucking time.
I don't say things I don't mean.
I KNOW what I want and I don't want. Don't patronize me and try to convince yourself (or me!!) that you know me better than I do. BECAUSE YOU DON'T.
You haven't walked a DAY in my shoes.
I have more secrets than you can imagine. Secrets YOU WILL NEVER KNOW.
I don't need anybody.
I have NEVER needed anybody. That isn't going to change.
I know what I'm talking about. What? You think my ideals are a ploy to get sympathy? To sound interesting? To sound different?
You think I look like the kind of person who says crap for attention?
How dare you say "HAHA in 5 years' time I'm going to come back and see if you're still saying this." Oh yeah? Really? You wanna bet on that? Because I've been saying the same fucking thing for the past 5 years and NOTHING HAS CHANGED.

I am so much more complicated than you could EVER imagine.
Stop patronizing me. Stop trying to control my life. Stop trying to pretend like you could even for one second, solve my "problem".
Well, guess what? I don't have a "problem". The problem is you. And society. Whichever helps you sleep at night.

Once again. Message to everybody....

Leave me the fuck alone.

My iPod played “Pure Imagination” and I immediately thought of Roald Dahl (“Pure Imagination” was one of the songs on the original 1971 Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory’s soundtrack; and the book was of course written by Roald Dahl). After reading through his biography; which I have oddly never read before, odd, because I’ve pretty much read everybody’s biography on Wikipedia before. Seeing as I spend at least a couple of hours a day reading articles on there, it’s really quite possible.

I realized, that Roald Dahl wasn’t just an author. He was really quite accomplished at everything. He was a pilot with the air force. He served in WWII. He spent a fortune and lots of time on research to cure diseases. He wasn’t just any man. I often wonder how people like him come around. One of the most famous examples is of course, Leonardo da Vinci. The man was an artist, a mathematician, an inventor, and a musician.

People are always talking about how it’s better to be a master of one than to be a jack of all trades. But whoever said that you have to be a master of just one? Why not set your goals higher? As high as they can go anyway? I know that I would certainly be very unsatisfied if I sucked at everything except for ONE thing. I’d rather be pretty good at everything than excellent at one and crappy at everything else.

But is it really possible? Notwithstanding the fact that none of us are polymaths like da Vinci or Goethe or Newton, could we really excel in so many different fields?

I often wonder... if technology isn’t really helping us... that what it’s really doing is limiting our capabilities. When was the last time you went outside and took a walk just because? When was the last time you saw kids playing imaginary games with one another instead of having their eyes glued on the TV screen playing some video game or other? Are we slowly devolving into a fat, useless species like the characters portrayed in Wall-E, unable to do anything for ourselves and relying entirely on technology for our survival?

I once watched a documentary... the claim was that, future wars will not be fought will guns and bullets and bombs. They will be fought with technology like magnetic pulses. The kinds that wipe out telecommunications, satellites, electricity. What would we do without all that today? More and more, regular landlines are being replaced by cellular phones. How many people even own maps anymore? We used to have people with a good sense of direction who could decipher maps (a talent we all appreciated); now? All we have are people who can key in addresses accurately in their GPS units.

Sometimes I really do fear for humanity.

Just read article on CNN regarding the capture of Mladic, one of the commanders who committed genocide in the Yugoslav wars of the early 1990s.

I remember being a little kid and hearing the words “Bosnia” and “Herzegovina” and “Croatia” being tossed around. I knew there was a war. But I mostly was too young to understand what it was really about. As I got a little older, I realized that it was yet another war fought in the name of religion. And race. When it comes down to the basics, the Yugoslav wars weren’t any different from the Israel-Palestinian war, or hell, even World War II. They were always fought in the name of our supposed “differences”.

So what if you’re Muslim and I’m Jew? Or if you’re Christian and I’m Hindu? The Jews and Palestinians share the same ancestry. Numerous DNA studies have shown that they are indeed... of the same race, whether or not they would believe it themselves. It’s unavoidable. If you live in the same region as your enemies, and so did your ancestors, you probably shared those ancestors. Any differences that you perceive... they’re all social constructs made in the minds of people filled with hate.

You know what’s amazing, though?

Being children and being taught differently can change SO much. Canada is known for being the melting pot of all races, beliefs, and ethnicities. It’s one of the countries which accepts the most refugees and immigrants each year. When I lived there, I was amazed at how little racism pervaded everyday life.

I had Bosnian friends. I had Croat friends. I had Serb friends. They were all friends with each other. Sure, they call themselves Canadian, but they also called themselves Bosnians, Croats, and Serbs. Their families were the lucky ones—the ones who managed to flee Yugoslavia before its fall. Or managed to escape in the midst of war. Their parents speak little, if any, English. But you know what? I once sat with them on a table while they marvelled at how similar their ethnic languages were. Bosnian sounds like Croatian and sounds like Serbian. The languages share so many identical words, syntax, and grammar. They were descended from some ancient Balkan language, probably.

And you know what? These similarities brought these friends of mine closer together. They’d talk about their visits to Bosnia and Serbia and Croatia. They’d talk about how beautiful it is there. They’d talk about how similar their parents’ thinking was. Essentially, they shared more similarities than differences. They all looked white to me. Maybe Eastern European. But still, I wouldn’t be able to tell their ethnicities apart, if not for their names.

At the time, it didn’t seem amazing to me at all; the fact that my Bosnian, Croat, and Serb friends were even friends at all. But now looking back (and after having read the in-depth account of what really happened during the Yugoslav Wars ), I am completely amazed. Their people fought against each other. The Serbs murdered thousands of Bosnians in a mass genocide. Hundreds of thousands died in that war. Young girls were raped and babies were murdered.

It’s only been 15 years, and it amazes me that this new generation of Balkans have little or no memory and best of all, no grudges against each other. They were lucky enough to have escaped that world. That social construct. The age-old hate and racism that dictated their home countries. Their parents gave them a chance to start afresh. To be free from a history of violence. And it worked. Our generation has no real memory of those wars. No memory, and no skewed history books to cloud our judgment. It was a good day when my friends’ parents decided to pack their bags and leave. To a country that is the essence of immigration. Canada, just like America, were built by immigrants. By people who were persecuted in their home countries and needed a fresh start. To a land where dreams could become reality.

And that is what I love so much about Canada. The place and the people, they make it feel like home. You see people from different walks of life laughing and talking like they’ve known each other forever. It doesn’t matter where you came from, or the colour of your skin. You are entitled to a good life, just like everyone else.

Why can’t the world be like that? After all, this planet is our home. We are so much more similar than we are different. But yet that is so hard for people to realize and to grasp.

We have such short life spans (in terms of geological age) that we tend to see everything as static instead of fluid. State lines seem to stay the same forever. Borders never seem to change. But when you move back in time, you see that truly, everything has always and will always be changing. Sometimes I lament the fact that our lives are so short, that this pen lying next to me will outlive me. That these words I am typing will persist for a long time after I’m gone.

There is so little time. Why do we spend it polarizing ourselves and fighting over invisible, made-up differences?