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I'm going to try something new. You see, I bought Third Eye Blind's album Out of the Vein recently. I've always been a fan of their music. I always get completely sucked into the stream of consciousness lyrics they have. So much so that maybe it's an audio addiction. Since I bought it two or three weeks ago I've listened to some of the songs in excess of 300 times. That's just the count at work. Count in that I listen to it at home as well and… yeah, that's a whole lot.

I thought of this idea while reading one of 's entries that listed “What songs are you listening to now?.” I realized that I have only been listening to this one small collection. I throw in another band here or there, or one of their old albums; but basically I listen to this. This album just happens to be completely in-tune with my life at the moment. I can't even explain why it is, because I don't know why it is.

The idea is that I will do a series of blogs using the titles of the songs and in the order of the songs on the album. The entries will probably have nothing to do with the songs themselves, but will just revolve around the titles or some key lyrics and their relation to my life; or exploring why they hit me just right.

Plus, I know I haven't been updating my blog very frequently so maybe this will mean a string of frequent updates. Maybe even daily. And hey, it gives me an excuse to listen to the music over and over some more.

So let's start with the title. Out of the Vein.

Blood comes out of veins. So does gold and most other things that glitter. Everything that comes out of a vein is pure and honest. Unless it's a junkies vein I guess. They might have a veritable cocktail of chemical mishaps floating around in there at any given time. Regardless, this is about normal, because most people are more normal than they believe.

My life has been very real lately. Real and pure and true, like blood, there haven't been any lies. Illusions and dreams have started to fall down on the rocks of reality and other equally powerful events.

Once in a while I used to let myself bleed out. Not in the literal physical sense, but in the emotional and psychological sense. I've gone back to internalizing a lot of things; letting the pressure build inside. My hope has been turned in to a weapon in a certain sense I guess. The problem is that it turns into the only type of weapon that hope can turn into, a self-destructive one.

Hope is a drug. It can take you to wonderful heights, but it has a horrible withdrawal period. Some people never recover. Especially creative people struggle with hope. There is something in the creative mind that strings itself out on a razor edge between hope and despair. It's a horrible affliction leading to wonder and chaos.

Hand in hand with hope is the ownership of a big heart. Being a being that feels things very intensely is beautiful and frightening. Each friendship is felt so much more strongly. Each loss is felt so much deeper.

There is always a beginning and there is always an end. We don't always get to choose how, or when, or where. I think that's why life is so amazing. We are completely in control while also being completely out of control. It's all up to us, even when there is nothing we can do about it.

So let's kick off this experiment. This journey of audio relation. Let's see how much more I can say without truly saying anything. Tune in tomorrow for the first real installment “Faster”.

The title says it all…

It always seems easy. All of it. Until you try it. What am I talking about? Life.

Nothing has more ups and downs. Not a roller coaster. Not a mountain range. Not even a hot air balloon.

There's this company. It's in this place. They are starting a satellite studio there. Something small. The kind of place that I could go and make a difference at. It all starts out with a two month, all expenses paid, trip to Vancouver. Then all the way back to the other side of the country.

Should I go for it? Why would I? Why wouldn't I?

There are too many rules of thumb. Too many adages. To many people saying “Hey you! Live your life like this!” Do you go with “When things get tough you just have to work through it.” or do you go with “You have to jump at new opportunities to grow and improve.”

I haven't improved a single iota since coming to my current job. I haven't been challenged in any way. I haven't learned a single thing. I flat out don't mesh well with the people in this team. Why don't I mesh? Now that, is a good question. I'm still not really sure of the answer myself. I think it mostly has to do with me watching people who are supposed to be better at my job than I am, do things in very wrong ways; and to see people who are new to the job, who are learning this bad ways of doing things, get praised for it.

I was blessed to have a chance to work with some truly talented people at my last job. Everyone was willing to learn as well. Everyone was even willing to ask questions and to point things out and say “Hey, didn't you do this wrong?” I was even granted the opportunity to play the role of leader to those people. Although I don't think I was ever really a leader in the traditional business sense, I think it was more like I was a captain on a sports team.

I miss my old team. If my old job wasn't in the middle of nowhere I would probably still be there. Or at the very least I would go back in a heartbeat.

I love living in this city though. Love it! Maybe that's because I just love city life? Maybe I could be that happy with any city? Maybe I just really suck and I don't know how to settle in anywhere and be truly happy? Maybe I'm just tired of watching the right girl walk away time and time again, and that's effecting my point of view on work?

A friend of mine asked me a question yesterday. After I answered he asked me if it was the rational Sean or the do shit on a whim Sean answering him. It's amazing how an odd little quirky question like that can crystallize how you see things. I realized that it is the “do shit on a whim” version of me that takes me everywhere and brings me all of the great stories that fill my life. It's the “rational” version that holds me back. That “rational” version though, it has it's place. It makes sure the bills get paid.

How can you turn your back on such a truly effective part of yourself? How can you ever get to a point where you just listen to that fun and adventurous side? I know people who only listen to their whim-laden sides and they are always smiling and having fun. At least the part of them that the outside world sees is. How do they let go?

I can't even imagine what would happen to my life if I just let go. If I just followed all of my whims and chased everything I wanted. It's just too wild to even try to comprehend *draws a blank*.

So what kind of person are you? Life of the party? Party downer? Happy inbetweener? I am the ultimate extremist. I am undoubtedly the life of the party when I choose to be. Talking to everyone, drinking everything, completely out of control. People seem to like that. I'm not sure why. I am also the other extreme sometimes. The ultra-sad, mega-depressed, it might be your party but it's not my kind of fun so why am I still here downer.

I'm that guy that people tell stories about years later “Do you remember that time he was talking back to the cops?” “Did you see the way he passed out under that picnic table? Awkward as hell, but pure ballet.” “What the hell brought on that speech about antidisestablishmentarianism?” “Yeah, I remember the time he chugged the tequila…”

Oddly enough, I'm also that guy that turns down alcohol all the time. I think it's because I now how much it changes me. Or maybe it's that, it reveals who I really am, and I'm not ready to accept it.

Whoops! My brain slipped into random somewhere along the way there…

It was Saturday. I was still feeling strung out from lack of sleep. There was a hockey game though. There were tickets. Montreal was hosting Toronto. I had to go. I had to be there. It was my first chance to witness in person one of the greatest rivalries in professional sports.

So I went. All strung out from lack of sleep. Finding it hard to breathe and sometimes even stand on the hot and crowded subway. Light headed in more than a few ways I found my way to my seat. I sat and took in the atmosphere. The Bell Centre, at long last. I had finally found a reason to go. It wasn't as legendary or fabled as the old Montreal Forum, which in death was reborn as a movie theatre and shopping centre.

I went on a good night. It was a special night. They were retiring numbers from famous players from years past. There was a magic in the air. A palpable sense of awe throughout the crowd as the three gentleman warriors stepped out onto the ice. A wave to the crowd. One last huzzah before slipping away back into the long dark night of fading memories; the place where heroes go when there are no more dragons to slay.

It was loud. It was spectacular. In all ways it was almost holy. From the cheap tasting nine dollar beer to the streams of curses and swearing from the drunken fans around me. It was wonderful.

I went with a friend of mine to the game. As we were walking through the masses of people. Husbands in red, Canadiens fans; wives in white, Toronto fans. Even before the game, the fans jeering and yelling at each other. Battle cries and ancient cheers. You can feel the atmosphere dripping with the history of it all. So many games over so many years. So much blood, and heart and so many tears spilled in the name of what so many call just a game. I looked at my friend and smiled as I said “These are my people. More than gamers, more than geeks, more than movie nuts. More than anyone else, these are my people.”

Hockey is so much more. It is a way of life. It is a culture. It is the last bastion for warriors with a sense of honour and a need to prove themselves. It is a great sweeping passion that takes hold of you. It is also not for everyone, but everyone should try it.

The game was wonderful. How often does one get to see living legends and legends in the making? Legends like Belfour and Lindros, doing what they do best. The hits were big, the shots were hard. The crowd was wild and loud. Every time that Lindros touched the puck they entire arena booed at him. He is a man who offended the entire french-canadian culture, and yet, they still love him in some way. They still cheered when he scored. He's a living legend after all.

When it was all over. When all had been said and done. Toronto skated away with the win. The building cleared and the streets of the city filled with fans. They yelled at each other. They analyzed the game. What went wrong? What went right? One fan in particular stands out in my mind “That's three wins! We might win the cup this year!”. As a fan of the sport you just smile and nod. You take it all in and tuck it away in that special spot that the best memories go. It becomes something you can look back on in your latter days and muse about how great it was.