Ah, as I've tried unsuccessfully to write two other blog posts, I hear fireworks go off in the background.
In the city of edmonton, with cats and humans and buildings and shit. Especially that last one.
I'm proud to be Canadian don't get me wrong. But this is more of a "...caucasian holiday."
Canada is a beautiful country, 4th in most peaceful voting. The people you meet are of all different backgrounds and stories. I am content in Canada.
Canada Day "celebrates" more of a darker part of my history. The formation of a already formed land. With humans.... and Bears.... and structures and shit. Humans who were codependent on the basic level of helping each other out. Of family and closeness to the outdoors. People who lived as freely as the next man, with fresh food and a beautiful landscape to admire. Plains, mountains, animals and just the all around scenery was something treasured. Life sure did smack those people.
Those people, are my ancestors. Regardless of how white I look which would almost register on a Johnny Depp in Edward scissorhands white. Regardless of people in my own family calling me white, I identify as Aboriginal. When you ask what I am, I respond Cree, First Nations or Aboriginals.
Insincere Apologies made, as well as reserves and residential schools is what 'those' people got. Decades ago. Different people, different time. Sure there is still assholes who discriminate the fuck out of you. But who are they, nothing but a blip on the radar. I don't despise the other people around me, I have accepted I could easily integrate with that society and live in the majority... But, I don't want to and nor would my Grandfather or Great Grandfather want me to.
I take the blessings that I have now as a First Nations status 'Indian', regardless of how few rights aboriginals have. I have some coverage for medicine and school. When I know they could easily loophole around it and give us jackshit
I don't look for sympathy from any other race. Just coexistence and responsibility for your actions. I don't look for sympathy from the white men who took the land my people once inherited. I look for a simple apology and recognition of my race being equal to theirs. A simple apology that will never come.
Tomorrow is nothing more than Free Agent Frenzy day for me.
Happy Kanata/Canada Day to all.
Best Regards,
Devon
This is my life, contains anxiety and the constant struggle with the unknown.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Potpourri of feelings and metaphors.
Previously on Anger Boner posts, Devon got his patented anger boner over someone trying to diminish his ambition. With foresight and a different perspective Devon upheld his anger boner for longer than 4 hours and didn't consult a doctor. Huzzah.
Now, today I write this as a person who is probably going to commit way more grammar mistakes than he normally does. Cause it is a blog, so fuck grammar. This helps relieve tension. People have came forward and asked me how it helps me cope with my own psychological experiences. Putting my feelings and struggles into words is something I didn't think would help. Everyone should write a blog, or put their emotions into something that the world can see. I read more blogs now than I ever did. It helps me stay edgy and calm (2 different ends of the spectrum) but that's the point. I am at a balanced point. I see all walks of life. People open up to me, i speak with no shame or no censorship. If what you are complaining about is stupid. Well, transformers 2 is a good movie is the worst thing I've heard someone say. I said "hold on, Imma let you finish... But Michael Bay is a money-grabbing piece of shit." It is all trivial in the end, whether you complain about wasting time, work, play, kids. It is all relative to your self-image. Those things become a part of you. You are on this Earth to get paid, reproduce, and try to make living easier. Most importantly make the lives of the people around you more pleasant.
My main reason for this certain post is to let you know more about my frustration, anger, and spiteful side. I'm 97/3 pessimism/optimism. I've adopted this from the people in my family, and just going through the motions of life. Optimism is a important thing, but at the same time it can absolutely cripple your brain if something goes awry. People have quit school, cried, or just called themselves stupid because the 80 percent they got wasn't the 90 they thought they should've gotten. I go into every exam/situation in life thinking if I can come out of this better than I went into it well, I am doing alright.
Failure is a learning tool, everyone has to fail at something. It is how you take that failure and adapt to your situation. Those people who "failed" their exam need to take it as a blessing.
Don't ever let anyone tell you because you didn't do well at one thing you are gonna shit the bed elsewhere. That's simply making a conclusion that has no relativity to your life.
When someone tells me I'm not going to do something, or do good at it. I have so much spite towards them that I work at it just to prove them wrong. Spite is a very motivating tool that not many people use it positively. I'd never physically hurt the person who said I am never gonna do something. I'd fucking do it to perfection and jump around them while eye of the tiger played in the background.
Fuck the haters. If you give them an inch into your thoughts they will pick it out and run with it. The very beginning of my 'stigma' started because those people who called me ugly or rejected me without ever knowing who I was caused me to dwell on my own character and appearance.
Caused much more cortisol to flow through, caused anxiety, caused laziness, and if I didn't break out of the funk probably would've caused obesity or death.
Metaphor time:
Ducks produce an oil in their tail glands. Sort of the equivalent to sweat. This oil coats the duck's feathers and allows them to float above the water but never soak up the water.. The water beads up and rolls off.
Be like the feathers of a duck, don't let people's judgments and insults soak into your brain. It affects you and your personality. You wear it on your face, on your posture, and the way you carry yourself.
Quack quack quack quack Mister Ducksworth.
Regards,
Devon
Thanks to all who have kept reading. Expect a couple of comedic posts soon.
Now, today I write this as a person who is probably going to commit way more grammar mistakes than he normally does. Cause it is a blog, so fuck grammar. This helps relieve tension. People have came forward and asked me how it helps me cope with my own psychological experiences. Putting my feelings and struggles into words is something I didn't think would help. Everyone should write a blog, or put their emotions into something that the world can see. I read more blogs now than I ever did. It helps me stay edgy and calm (2 different ends of the spectrum) but that's the point. I am at a balanced point. I see all walks of life. People open up to me, i speak with no shame or no censorship. If what you are complaining about is stupid. Well, transformers 2 is a good movie is the worst thing I've heard someone say. I said "hold on, Imma let you finish... But Michael Bay is a money-grabbing piece of shit." It is all trivial in the end, whether you complain about wasting time, work, play, kids. It is all relative to your self-image. Those things become a part of you. You are on this Earth to get paid, reproduce, and try to make living easier. Most importantly make the lives of the people around you more pleasant.
My main reason for this certain post is to let you know more about my frustration, anger, and spiteful side. I'm 97/3 pessimism/optimism. I've adopted this from the people in my family, and just going through the motions of life. Optimism is a important thing, but at the same time it can absolutely cripple your brain if something goes awry. People have quit school, cried, or just called themselves stupid because the 80 percent they got wasn't the 90 they thought they should've gotten. I go into every exam/situation in life thinking if I can come out of this better than I went into it well, I am doing alright.
Failure is a learning tool, everyone has to fail at something. It is how you take that failure and adapt to your situation. Those people who "failed" their exam need to take it as a blessing.
Don't ever let anyone tell you because you didn't do well at one thing you are gonna shit the bed elsewhere. That's simply making a conclusion that has no relativity to your life.
When someone tells me I'm not going to do something, or do good at it. I have so much spite towards them that I work at it just to prove them wrong. Spite is a very motivating tool that not many people use it positively. I'd never physically hurt the person who said I am never gonna do something. I'd fucking do it to perfection and jump around them while eye of the tiger played in the background.
Fuck the haters. If you give them an inch into your thoughts they will pick it out and run with it. The very beginning of my 'stigma' started because those people who called me ugly or rejected me without ever knowing who I was caused me to dwell on my own character and appearance.
Caused much more cortisol to flow through, caused anxiety, caused laziness, and if I didn't break out of the funk probably would've caused obesity or death.
Metaphor time:
Ducks produce an oil in their tail glands. Sort of the equivalent to sweat. This oil coats the duck's feathers and allows them to float above the water but never soak up the water.. The water beads up and rolls off.
Be like the feathers of a duck, don't let people's judgments and insults soak into your brain. It affects you and your personality. You wear it on your face, on your posture, and the way you carry yourself.
Quack quack quack quack Mister Ducksworth.
Regards,
Devon
Thanks to all who have kept reading. Expect a couple of comedic posts soon.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Must read. This is why I do this
Now that the shameless plugging is done, it is time to get down to the brass tax
1:30 AM, I tried to sleep, but until I put my feelings down I will have trouble sleeping. It is things/people like this that just eat me alive.
I'm an asshole, sentimental, honest, and funny. 4 things that'll follow me the rest of my life. I live each day, cherishing the little things. Managing my own mental state and trying to understand others. I talk to people, because after being beat down so much through primary school I can finally talk to people without them imitating my voice or telling me how I look. I also look at professions not as "oh shit, you're dumb and never did anything with your life." In actuality, life kicks you in the ass, you make adjustments and earn a living however you can. People don't understand how vicious life can be. I'm a realist and a pessimist, I know I can fulfill my dream of entering nursing; however, I know I have a lot of health issues and coursework to overcome. That is fucking school. I don't care what I did in high school, or my grades there. You know why, because high school was a joke and is even more of a joke now. I graduated in an unorthodox manner and met some of the worst human beings on Earth at school.
But today was worse. It wasn't immature, petty, stupid asinine remarks to my looks or my language. It was a person looking at me and making a judgment that I am wasting my time trying to achieve my goals.
Now, when you ask me 30 seconds into looking at my face what my marks were. I suspect you take it in stride and not flat out call me uneducated and not likely to succeed. Sure, make the logical argument that she was just being a realist. But in a position as an adviser they aren't in the position to criticize someone based on zero information of that person. Their job is to try to positively reinforce the student while directing them towards their dream not mash them immediately. No shit life may not go the way I want it to.
Rhetoric is fun, I learned a lot from my brother. I also learned a lot from sociology/psychology. In fact, my psych teacher made a logical argument that using rhetoric and setting certain restrictions you can get a man to give into whatever demand. Without using illegal means or having an illegal goal. What would you do for a Klondike Bar motherfucker.?
People are in power, and use that power as leverage. I have been told I am not capable of doing many things in my life. Although I may never play in the NBA, I can have my own personal sentimental goal and complete those things.Swish.
What possesses a middle class lady to try to tell you your background and how you are going to survive in the world is nothing I can conclude. It makes me wonder how many students have tried to take a different career path because someone told them they aren't good enough.
You are good enough, you are important, and you sure as fuck can complete what person you want to become.
I carry myself much older than I am. Class, elegance, with the right amount of dick and fart jokes. Irony huzzah. For some person to tell me I don't have the mental capacity just makes me more frustrated with our education system. For fuck sakes a majority of our workforce works in the oil field because some asshole waves their dick sized logos in their face and says hey, fuck being educated come work in the oil field and have no chance at raising a family, or remaining in touch with yours.
Give me a break.
To be continued...
Regards,
Devon
On the next blog, we will find out did Devon have the guts to make it to the NBA. What is his nickname, or his number. Will Devon morph into a fucking eagle with a Sly Stone face who knows.
Or maybe Devon will meet a bear, befriend him and form a 2 man band with him. We would be called Bear Supply.
Devon will take over the tonight show, tell one bad pun and be immediately be relieved of my duties. That pun will be "I put up some books on a shelf, they fell and hit me on the head. I guess I only have Myshelf to blame."
1:30 AM, I tried to sleep, but until I put my feelings down I will have trouble sleeping. It is things/people like this that just eat me alive.
I'm an asshole, sentimental, honest, and funny. 4 things that'll follow me the rest of my life. I live each day, cherishing the little things. Managing my own mental state and trying to understand others. I talk to people, because after being beat down so much through primary school I can finally talk to people without them imitating my voice or telling me how I look. I also look at professions not as "oh shit, you're dumb and never did anything with your life." In actuality, life kicks you in the ass, you make adjustments and earn a living however you can. People don't understand how vicious life can be. I'm a realist and a pessimist, I know I can fulfill my dream of entering nursing; however, I know I have a lot of health issues and coursework to overcome. That is fucking school. I don't care what I did in high school, or my grades there. You know why, because high school was a joke and is even more of a joke now. I graduated in an unorthodox manner and met some of the worst human beings on Earth at school.
But today was worse. It wasn't immature, petty, stupid asinine remarks to my looks or my language. It was a person looking at me and making a judgment that I am wasting my time trying to achieve my goals.
Now, when you ask me 30 seconds into looking at my face what my marks were. I suspect you take it in stride and not flat out call me uneducated and not likely to succeed. Sure, make the logical argument that she was just being a realist. But in a position as an adviser they aren't in the position to criticize someone based on zero information of that person. Their job is to try to positively reinforce the student while directing them towards their dream not mash them immediately. No shit life may not go the way I want it to.
Rhetoric is fun, I learned a lot from my brother. I also learned a lot from sociology/psychology. In fact, my psych teacher made a logical argument that using rhetoric and setting certain restrictions you can get a man to give into whatever demand. Without using illegal means or having an illegal goal. What would you do for a Klondike Bar motherfucker.?
People are in power, and use that power as leverage. I have been told I am not capable of doing many things in my life. Although I may never play in the NBA, I can have my own personal sentimental goal and complete those things.Swish.
What possesses a middle class lady to try to tell you your background and how you are going to survive in the world is nothing I can conclude. It makes me wonder how many students have tried to take a different career path because someone told them they aren't good enough.
You are good enough, you are important, and you sure as fuck can complete what person you want to become.
I carry myself much older than I am. Class, elegance, with the right amount of dick and fart jokes. Irony huzzah. For some person to tell me I don't have the mental capacity just makes me more frustrated with our education system. For fuck sakes a majority of our workforce works in the oil field because some asshole waves their dick sized logos in their face and says hey, fuck being educated come work in the oil field and have no chance at raising a family, or remaining in touch with yours.
Give me a break.
To be continued...
Regards,
Devon
On the next blog, we will find out did Devon have the guts to make it to the NBA. What is his nickname, or his number. Will Devon morph into a fucking eagle with a Sly Stone face who knows.
Or maybe Devon will meet a bear, befriend him and form a 2 man band with him. We would be called Bear Supply.
Devon will take over the tonight show, tell one bad pun and be immediately be relieved of my duties. That pun will be "I put up some books on a shelf, they fell and hit me on the head. I guess I only have Myshelf to blame."
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Kookum (grandma)
Last week I was asked a peculiar question, hey when are you having kids?
For the longest time I had no desire because of how much things cost for raising children. In fact, it is one of the biggest oversights in the retail community. So much so that more people are going back to cloth diapers, or using underwear and just washing them. Oh, and they piss, shit and eat. Sometimes all at the same time. Sometimes they smell sweet and soothing, other times they smell sour and Poo.....thing
Back on topic, I came to the realization how old I am, and for some reason my brain just chose to ignore how old the people around me are. My grandmother is someone I love dearly and wish to see everyday. It is not possible anymore given the distance and general atmosphere. She is 75, and I have always been close to her. I would do anything for her as I would do anything for my mother and I would do anything for my girlfriend as well.
At 20 (21 in 2 months) I don't plan to have children for 5-10 years. I want my grandmother to be at my wedding, and I want her to see my children. at those intervals it would make her 80-85. I don't know (as does anyone else) if she will be healthy.
I do wish to have children one day. But, at this point in my life I am nowhere near ready or mature enough for them. Let alone healthy enough myself. My grandmother has been there for 20 surgeries. She's been the central hub for information through the rest of my family. Helped where she could. She loves her family, and it echos to a majority of my family. It is all I could ask for my grandmother to dance with me at my wedding.
Everyone needs to take the people around them as a blessing, and love them everyday. I've been guilty of forgetting this. Life is a very precious thing and the people around you make life sweeter.
I love you Kookum (G-Ma, Grandma, Grandma Helen)
Regards,
Devon
For the longest time I had no desire because of how much things cost for raising children. In fact, it is one of the biggest oversights in the retail community. So much so that more people are going back to cloth diapers, or using underwear and just washing them. Oh, and they piss, shit and eat. Sometimes all at the same time. Sometimes they smell sweet and soothing, other times they smell sour and Poo.....thing
Back on topic, I came to the realization how old I am, and for some reason my brain just chose to ignore how old the people around me are. My grandmother is someone I love dearly and wish to see everyday. It is not possible anymore given the distance and general atmosphere. She is 75, and I have always been close to her. I would do anything for her as I would do anything for my mother and I would do anything for my girlfriend as well.
At 20 (21 in 2 months) I don't plan to have children for 5-10 years. I want my grandmother to be at my wedding, and I want her to see my children. at those intervals it would make her 80-85. I don't know (as does anyone else) if she will be healthy.
I do wish to have children one day. But, at this point in my life I am nowhere near ready or mature enough for them. Let alone healthy enough myself. My grandmother has been there for 20 surgeries. She's been the central hub for information through the rest of my family. Helped where she could. She loves her family, and it echos to a majority of my family. It is all I could ask for my grandmother to dance with me at my wedding.
Everyone needs to take the people around them as a blessing, and love them everyday. I've been guilty of forgetting this. Life is a very precious thing and the people around you make life sweeter.
I love you Kookum (G-Ma, Grandma, Grandma Helen)
Regards,
Devon
Monday, June 11, 2012
I know how I look
Open letter to cyber-bullies and schoolyard asshats and high school low-lifes.
My life in school was nothing horrible. In fact education and teachers were quite remarkable, but alas that is not all you have to put up with. For 15 years of my life I decided not to tell anyone I am aboriginal. Which is quite the mistake. You weed out all the losers and eliminate forced conversations about how awesome it is to be white.
I for awhile got malicious and mean with words because at the end of the day those people didn't deserve to get to know me. To this day, I monitor and keep tabs with those who are important and any acquaintances remain just as they are. Something that was not realized through high school was my inability to accept I am and look "abnormal". The thing about pain and "deformities" is it teaches you how to be different, it motivates you to become a better person. Motivates you to be intelligent and wise with words
I help those in need and hope one day when I need it I will have someone to pick me up.
I have realized recently that I know how I look, and I embrace it. If I could go back and be able to have reasonable discussions with the morons who called me deformed, goblin, elf, hobbit, a dirty injun to sample a few. I would ask them do you know how you look. If i spent all day piecing together your insecurities it would make you feel like a piece of garbage. But it would feel worse, like a landfill full of Dane Cooks.
I guarantee that those who make fun of you for being a different race or having different tastes does not feel good immediately after they say it. I've become more conscious of my words, my thoughts and my adapted vocal defense. I fight for all sides. I can understand all walks of life. You let me into your life, you are granted access into who I am. An open book, I have no shame when I know who you are. It is about trust from one another. I used to hide, used to put my hand over my mouth or keep my head on my hand to hide my ear.
Which just proved to those I was affected by what they said. It's easy to bully the kid who doesn't understand why everyone picks on the different one.
Don't ever fall into societal pitfalls. You are beautiful as you are, you mature at your own rate. You live through the people you are close with. Just pick wisely and prosper from who you are and who they are.
Most of all, stay calm and level-headed. Life is more enjoyable that way.
(I've broken 3 controllers playing video games, so take that however you want.)
Regards,
Devon
My life in school was nothing horrible. In fact education and teachers were quite remarkable, but alas that is not all you have to put up with. For 15 years of my life I decided not to tell anyone I am aboriginal. Which is quite the mistake. You weed out all the losers and eliminate forced conversations about how awesome it is to be white.
I for awhile got malicious and mean with words because at the end of the day those people didn't deserve to get to know me. To this day, I monitor and keep tabs with those who are important and any acquaintances remain just as they are. Something that was not realized through high school was my inability to accept I am and look "abnormal". The thing about pain and "deformities" is it teaches you how to be different, it motivates you to become a better person. Motivates you to be intelligent and wise with words
I help those in need and hope one day when I need it I will have someone to pick me up.
I have realized recently that I know how I look, and I embrace it. If I could go back and be able to have reasonable discussions with the morons who called me deformed, goblin, elf, hobbit, a dirty injun to sample a few. I would ask them do you know how you look. If i spent all day piecing together your insecurities it would make you feel like a piece of garbage. But it would feel worse, like a landfill full of Dane Cooks.
I guarantee that those who make fun of you for being a different race or having different tastes does not feel good immediately after they say it. I've become more conscious of my words, my thoughts and my adapted vocal defense. I fight for all sides. I can understand all walks of life. You let me into your life, you are granted access into who I am. An open book, I have no shame when I know who you are. It is about trust from one another. I used to hide, used to put my hand over my mouth or keep my head on my hand to hide my ear.
Which just proved to those I was affected by what they said. It's easy to bully the kid who doesn't understand why everyone picks on the different one.
Don't ever fall into societal pitfalls. You are beautiful as you are, you mature at your own rate. You live through the people you are close with. Just pick wisely and prosper from who you are and who they are.
Most of all, stay calm and level-headed. Life is more enjoyable that way.
(I've broken 3 controllers playing video games, so take that however you want.)
Regards,
Devon
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