Oedipus Complex

Yesterday, a kid, maybe six or seven, in the seat in front of me on the Skytrain was nearly kissing his mother on the lips. The weird thing was that she didn’t seem all that bothered as he stuck his face that close to hers. He did other things too, like smooth out her hair and rub her cheeks, and I couldn’t help but think, as I watched them, “Well, someone’s struggling with the Oedipus Complex.”

More books!

I don’t have enough time to post pictures, but my order of the Chicken Soup for the Soul books arrived today, and I freaked out yet again at seeing my name in book!  Yaaaaaaaay!

My mother, however, did not seem very impressed.  Then again, she don’t think she appreciates how cool and awesome it is to get published.

Blood = money

Me: “Guess what?  I had a dream last night that I got shot in the back and it hurt sooooo much!”
My mom: “Was there any blood?”
Me:  “Uh… maybe?  I think so… but it hurt so much!”
My mom: “Good.  If there’s blood, then that means you’re going to get money sometime soon.”
Me: “Oh.  But what about me getting shot?  Doesn’t that mean something bad?”
My mom:  “Um… no, not really.”

choking on normal

choking on normal

they all tell me to be normal
but really what “normal” is i don’t know like
they say “normal” is acting like a man
but i heard somewhere that i should be
myself they say “normal” is doing work but i heard
not to take everything so
seriously the say “normal” is acting
your age but i saw people growing up too fast
they say “normal” is going to school after high
school but that’s not what i want for me they
say “normal” is falling in love with someone of the opposite
gender but im already in love with a boy that ive
Sean
around they say “normal” is being happy and
living my life but its too hard when i was depressed and
thinking about not breathing again they say “normal”
is acknowledging your parents but how can i if she is constantly
screaming at me and he isnt there to protect me they say “normal” is
devoting yourself to a religion but i dont want to be part of
something that preaches hate
they all tell me to be “normal”
what
is
normal?

10 Defining Moments of My Life (so far) — #2: Spelling Test

2.  Despite only being in the second grade, I was disappointed when I misspelled “bonnet” on my spelling test (it was an Easter-themed spelling test).  I then felt nervous when we were told by our teacher, Mrs. Clarkson, to bring this particular test home to get our parents to sign it.  That night, I quickly presented it to my mom, hoping she would just scribble her name and get it over with.  She scanned it over, and I followed her eyes.  She asked me about “bonnet” and I replied that I had spelled it wrong, but everything else I had spelled correctly.  I was told to get a pen, which I did, and I thought it had gone too well.  And then the catch came: I was asked to help her write out “not good enough” on the page.  Through tears and not realizing the giant amount of irony, I spelled the three words out, wondering if my mom had overlooked the fact that I had managed to spell “scrumdiddlyumptious” correctly.

Secret Life (original version)

A few years ago when I first wrote this song, it was about 6 minutes long (I’ve shortened it since then).  I remember when I performed it at the now defunct Myles of Beans cafe in Burnaby, I was so nervous about how people would respond.  When I finished, the crowd slowly clapped, then continued clapping for about a minute while I thanked them over and over again for being so kind.

I’ll always remember how a man in the audience came up to me and shook my hand, thanking me for playing that song.  It’s reactions and people relating to my songs that really keep me pushing to perform. 

Secret Life

What do all these feelings mean?
Is it a phase, or simply just me?
And I wonder if there’s a word to describe
Who I am, or what’s inside.

Is there any way to explain
Why I’m the only one on this island?
Don’t know who to trust, to confide in
How long will I be hiding?

Chorus:

Will you tell me to change?
Will we become estranged?
Are you ashamed of who I am?
Will you love me less?
It’s the ultimate test
To confess my secret life.

So I finally admit
That I might be just a little different
It’s so heavy carrying this burden
A facade I must perpetuate

And I can’t swallow how some people
Walk the day with such infuriated faces.
And when they start to spew words of hate,
You all laugh along or look away.

Chorus

Bridge:

I believe in my heart and soul this is how God created me
I believe if I don’t breathe a word that no fist or slur will ever make me bleed
I believe with no doubt that there isn’t anyone else I would rather be

So now we’re sitting face to face
The words I say, I say with pride and strength
Tears sliding down our cheeks
And through it all, I’m surprised to find relief

Chorus

Please don’t tell me to change
I hope we don’t become estranged
Don’t disown me for who I am
Please don’t love me less
It’s the ultimate test
To confess…. my life.