The Bloody Doors Off

What the fuck am I even doing here?

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Graphic designer, playwright, occasional asshole

  • Conversations with Dead People

    I woke up at 5:30 am this morning, a storm blowing outside my open windows. I was wet, but from sweat, not rain.

    It’s approaching the anniversary of my mom’s passing (tomorrow), and clearly my subconscious mind is aware of this.

    I had a dream the dead were coming back, to visit loved ones and converse. There was nothing hideous about this; they weren’t decomposed, with raw fingers from clawing their way up from the ground. It was as if they’d appeared whole.

    And as much as I tried to get my mother’s attention, she ignored me and walked into the distance. I dunno, maybe she was off to speak with my step-father, who’s having an equally if not moreso difficult time dealing with her death.

    What unnerved me is who showed up to talk. My clearly alive, and healthy I might add, in real life, brother Wayne.

    To think of him as having passed on was truly the stuff of nightmares.

    I also remember talking with a Cantor and a Rabbi (who were alive) and having a philosophical discussion about life, death, and the afterlife. There were people who didn’t believe the dead were returning, and I needed to set people straight.

    At one point I thought, “if this were the rapture, that isn’t so bad.”

    And now I’m awake and cannot go back to sleep. In case I run into him again.

  • Self-Serving Promotion Time

    I made a goal earlier this year; I was going to apply for the Toronto Fringe with my 90 minute play, The Promised Land. It’s an homage to film noir and, if played right, can be quite funny (until it turns serious).

    But with work being tight and the wedding approaching in November, I considered postponing the project yet another year.

    Instead, I’ve decided to reach out for help, and started a Kickstarter to raise the entry fee.

    In 24 hours, I’ve made 25% of my goal. This blows my mind. It could actually happen. But I need help getting to the goal line.

    Please click the link below and check out my page. If you’re moved to help, there are rewards as incentive.

    Bless.

     

    http://kck.st/2NgnfHK

  • Post 1497

    Crap, really? I’m approaching 1,500 posts?

    Whoa.

    Milestone.

    Thing is, you kinda expect lightning bolt moments to hit you on a milestone event.

    This one comes in a bit… premature? I have PME syndrome?

    I’m being a bit silly.

    And that’s the milestone, for me.

    This blog doesn’t have to focus solely on my depression and anxiety.

    It can have moments of lightness.

    There can be. A balance.

    Thanks Sam, for helping me realize this earlier.

  • Uncomfortable Truths

    So I’ve been wrestling with this for a while, and I think I finally understand why.

    (more…)

  • When it’s after 3am and you can’t sleep, and neither can the boy

    I’m sure other parents realize just how hard this is.

    I wish there was a manual, or hell, even talking points.

    Something.

    How do you ease the anxiety, when you’re in the midst of it yourself?

    It’s not helping that the dog is growling at the cats because they don’t want to play with her.

    I really want to soothe his angst, and help him sleep.

    God, I’m really bad at this.

  • Father’s Day

    I have a new appreciation for the day, now that I am a parent.

    Amazing how perspective shifts gears so effortlessly.

    It’s a good day here.

    Here’s to many more.

  • Questions in a World of Blue

    C is playing the piano, partly because he has a performance on Tuesday, but also because, as he says, “I am stressed”. Ironically, he is practicing It’s a Wonderful World.

    He, like many of us, are in disbelief at the Ontario election results.

    I am particularly shocked that a lot of Toronto ridings went blue. It is small comfort that our riding went to the NDP.

    We’re gonna be governed by a man who has no leadership experience, is alleged to be running his father’s company into the ground, being sued by his sister-in-law for withholding/mismanaging his brother’s estate, has 25% of his candidates being investigated for various substandard practices (I am being polite).

    M and I had a brief conversation earlier, which revolved around how do we teach C to be a better person when an asshat is leading our province? And at this moment, I’m really struggling for an answer.

    I have to admit I’m worried for my own state of mind; I can’t let this slide me into depression.

    I voted. I voted NDP. But aside from electing our candidate, I feel helpless.

  • You Want It Darker

    It’s 12:30 am and I’m having coffee.

    There’s a buzz in my head. If I strain, listen past the static, I can hear one of the characters whispering.

    He’s unapologetically politically incorrect. Like, wow. I’m not sure what part of my brain he’s from, definitely my darker side. But there’s no filter in him. Absolutely none.

    He’s deeply offensive. And necessary.

  • Running Up That Hill

    I’ve strapped on the MP3 player and am playing Before the Dawn, then will move onto more eclectic stuff.

    I’m ready, my lord.

  • Vanilla Sky

    One of my top 10 movies.

    I’m remembering a scene that describes exactly how I’m feeling right now.

    Tom Cruise (as David) stands on a rooftop to face his final fear. It’s a moment of clarity for him.

    I feel like I’m on the verge of that for my play. Like I’m standing on the edge and looking into the void. And smiling, because I can tell that the story it waiting for me to … leap without fear and just let the muse take hold.

    Now, the nature of my face your fears moment? I’m not exactly sure what it is. But I can feel it, deep in my bones. Just like I did for A Song for Rachel. Because then, I’d lived it. The play became a part of me. Last Call feels the same.

    This is not Russian roulette. But I desperately want to pull the literary trigger.