Him and the Night

               “It’s dark,” said the night.

               “Oh, is it?” he responded, “I can’t tell.” At least, he was pretty sure he was a he. He couldn’t actually imagine being anything else, so he decided that for the sake of convenience he would stick with what he thought he knew.

               “Are you sure it’s dark? How do you tell?”

               “I don’t really know,” the night thought out loud, “That’s just how things are, I guess. People have always said that it’s dark when I’m around.”

               “What do they say when you’re not around?”

               “I have no idea, because then I’m not close enough to hear what it is they’re saying.”

               “Hmm. Well, this is all very interesting,” said he, “Really, it is. But I feel like I really must be going.”

               “Yes? How do you know that?”

               “Same way that you know it’s dark. Because that’s just how it is. We know about ourselves because of what people say about us. So I know that I must continue walking because I say so.”

               “I see. People logic never really made any sense to me, but I suppose it would make sense to people. Else, why would they keep using it?”

               He felt like he was moving, and that was more than he had felt before, so he decided that it would be progress if he continued feeling that way. “Goodbye, night. Maybe we’ll meet again.”

               “Bye. See if you can find me once you’ve gotten where you’re going. Good luck.”

               He imagined himself gesturing in a way that would indicate that he was leaving, but none of it really made any sense. Anyway, the night was getting fuzzy, and this strange bright sensation began to cover him.

               “Hm, this isn’t night,” he was getting concerned that he would never arrive because everything was so confusing, “Now it’s not dark, it’s messy. This new night is messy.”

               And he was right. The area he was moving into was cluttered with all sorts of things that were coloured, and had mass. Now this was most confusing. The objects seemed to be separated, as if this new kind of night had hardened and then been smashed into a bunch of incongruous bits. And the bits obviously repelled each other, else why were they not sinking into and fading through each other?

---------------------------------------------------

               I enjoyed writing this.

               I am slowly becoming more and more peeved that the blogger posting system does not contain an adequate indentation system.

               Also, I only really write from a male standpoint because I have never experienced life from any other perspective.

7 Things I have Learned About Blue-Collar Work

1. It sucks
2. Be polite to everyone and your job will be much easier
3. It's a lot more fun to work with people who don't care too much about their jobs
4. Canadian winters are not terribly compatible with construction
5. Coffee is essential
6. Nobody seems to understand that radio stations exist which don't just play the top 40 songs
7. Blue-collar work (at least in construction) is dirty. I hate being dirty
8. The vocabulary of most workers is about Grade 7 level, just with more swearing

---------------------------------------------------------------

I've decided that I don't like the name of my blog. It was made in haste and was a desperate attempt to sound original. Alas.

A Man on his Porch

            It was a pleasant winter evening. The elderly gentleman stood on his porch, watching the cars as they went by and occasionally glancing at the construction going on across the road from his quaint, attractive townhouse.

            The hedge around his garden was well kept, and gave the man a nice sense of privacy, even though it was only about a hand’s breadth above waist height. His gnome bustled around the hedge, trimming a leaf here, a wayward branch there, helping the shrubby wall keep up the illusion that it had in fact grown to be as orderly and mathematical as it appeared.

            The man was very pleased with his life at the moment. Heat emanating from a mug of mild black tea teased his hand and prompted a satisfied smile. He had a good life, after all. He kept a clean, prim house that was but a short distance walk from the town’s small commercial district; he didn’t struggle to make ends meet; and he had reached that stage in life where he had both the means and the time to take things slowly, and fully enjoyed doing so.

---------------------------------------------------------------

            Hello again. I have finally decided that I will continue to post updates, but the focus will no longer be on travel, rather it will be a place where I dump pieces of creative writing I've made. I don't know how often I'll update, but it will probably be more than once a month.

The Future of Good Wildebeest

As is evident, I haven't really been updating this blog very frequently. This is because it started as a travel blog, and as I am no longer traveling, there is nothing to blog about.

So, what should I do with this blog? Should it be a creative blog? Should I blog about my daily life? Or write fantasy stories starring my guinea pig? I need suggestions. Ask your friends, and try and give me some feedback about what I should do with my blog.

Thanks,

Josh

My Trip to Hong Kong, Part 2

Hard to believe it may may be, but I actually did other things other than hug Winnie the Pooh whilst in Hong Kong. For example, I used chopsticks:

I mean, who cares about Disneyland, wouldn't you rather hear about my chopstick technique? Honestly? Now, I know you would absolutely love to read about the finer points of chopsticking, but unfortunately, the above is the only appropriate picture I have on the subject. And as the content of these blog posts is entirely dictated by how many pictures I have for each topic, a single picture on a single topic is fated to receive only a proportional amount of coverage. But enough babbling, here's a picture of me with a wizard:

I don't know where those children came from.

So yes, the Abrey family and I went to Hong Kong on the Thursday before the Sunday when I had my flight back to Canada. Aaand we went to Disneyland. It was awesome. I know that the castle wasn't real, the  princesses walking around weren't actual princesses, and the whole park was built to advertise their movies and get you to buy coffee mugs embossed with motifs of Mickey Mouse's head, but I loved it.

The whole park was so darn happy it was difficult to remain cynical. I went on almost all the rides except the teacups and the Small World ride. Our collective family was also able to eat at the Enchanted Garden buffet restaurant in the bottom of the Disneyland hotel. What a buffet. Now I'm hungry. I'm gonna go eat lunch, then finish this blog. Don't go anywhere.

...

I'm back. Lunch was delicious. Anyway, the Enchanted Gardens were cool because they featured lots of classic Disney characters that walked around and took pictures with the residents of each table.

I need a suit like Mickey's.

We spent a couple days at Disneyland, and on the third day we drove through Hong Kong, and I was able to see where my Uncle Paul grew up. Hong Kong is certainly a beautiful place, but you can hardly tell because all the beauty is obscured by smog.

We took a tram that was pulled up a mountain at like a forty degree angle in order to reach a lookout place that looked like this:

http://www.thepeak.com.hk/en/1_2_1.asp

Great view, but again, very smoggy.

I was obviously having fun

If it wasn't for the pollution, Hong Kong would be incredibly attractive. I recommend it.

My Trip to Hong Kong

I'm back! Also, Bali

Hello, dear people. First off, I would like to extend my sincerest apologies for not posting for like ten days. though it pained me to go so long without bragging about my life, I had good reason not to post, for I was in Hong Kong. And then I came back to Canada. These two factors combined to limit my available free time and prevent me releasing any posts. But whatever, I'm back now and still unemployed, so I will continue posting.

Do note that though I am now in Canada, the next two or three posts will still be about my adventures in Singapore, as I have not yet had the time to post about everything I have done.

So, Bali. Or rather, the island of Bali within the country of Indonesia. It was a bit colder than the perpetual 31 degree weather of Singapore, but the vegetation looked just like Singapore would have looked like if it hadn't been covered by a city.

We went to Bali for about 3 Earth days, and my uncle and I spent part of the 2nd day boogieing around Bali on some buggies, during which I took the above picture.

This handsome devil took the last red buggy.

We buggied for a good two hours, and by the time we were done I could have built a sand castle out of the dust that had accumulated on my body. The guide said that it was either buggy in dry weather and get caked in dust, or buggy in weather and get caked in mud. It would have been nice if they had told us to bring goggles or something.

At one point we almost got lost, but some nearby cow shamans were able to point us in the right direction.

Though nothing was ever too far away, it always took forever to get anywhere. I never figured out if the long travel times were due to the traffic or the taxi drivers or the road system, but when being driven anywhere my impatience was usually overcome by terror and a strong distaste for the lack of Balinese traffic laws.

Though driving between places was occasionally terrifying, Bali is beautiful, and there's lots to look at. The people have built temples everywhere, and every other house contains a guy who's really good at making religious sculptures.

Bali was nice. I recommend it.