I Was Going To Write About How Sad I Am

But that would be a digression -the kind that I am not ready (and may never be ready) to go into. It is neither an odyssey nor a trip for milk at the grocery, not a long-story-short nor a story at all even. Instead, I am going to write about how afraid I am, like I always do, because it is familiar, and it is easy, and it is curable. Fear is actionable, and ultimately overcome by just facing what it is you are afraid of, and I am afraid that one day, people will see through to the sadness, and think that I am not allowed it. 

I am not happy, but I am also not unhappy. I am not unhappy for every reason that I am happy, and the vise-versa is true wherein I am unhappy for every reason that I am not happy. (which, going by simple Mathematical logic rules, and language redundancy, must mean that this statement is valid, and true). There is a joy in my soul that is whole, and consistent, and considerable, but there is a sadness in my heart like an almost teasing alleyway where you cannot see the end unless you take the invitation it almost never gives you to enter. Entering is only ever an almost. And the more almosts there are, the smaller the alleyway gets until the bricks build up again, waiting for someone with a magic umbrella to tell it that it's time to give way*. If the soul and heart are one, this alleyway must be where they connect somehow.

It is in my character to make logical reasonings and similes to describe this digression, this inexplicable abyss, because the digression fuels the most creative part of me. It feeds the soul, but hurts the heart, and the head will find a way to justify it. If I am to be allowed this pain, then I must first make it worth something. This digression is only valid if I first tuck it away as best I can inside a container that is too small for it until I have enough to show that this is what I started with, that I have a right to this sadness in myself despite the sunlight I bask in. It is in this way that I function. It is in this way that I address the digression.

In true Nichie (Nietzsche, see what I did there) way, if you gaze long into an abyss, you will see nothing there because the abyss hides, and prays you don't see it.

*That's a Harry Potter reference.
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I Have Always Loved Valentine's Day

I have always, always loved Valentine's.

I love the pinks and the reds, all the puns both innocent and suggestive -hell, the commercialism exists only to serve me the kind of literature I vibe off of, which is that of heartbreak, tragedy, and straight up heart-pounding fluff. If you didn't know, I am well-versed in the art of Japanese-Manga-Heroine-And-Asshole-With-A-Golden-Heart-Love-Story"Hugot" could be my middle name.

But really, that's only part of it. I'm am a (very) full basketcase of emotion, bound to a ritualistic need to spread love, not because of any selfless habit, but because I try to take good care of my emotional health. I find that a healthy outlet to express the overwhelming emotions that build up inside me allows me to put out positivity to in turn fill myself with positivity, instead of passively letting my emotions fester into a gross bitterness that'll eventually eat at me.

I drew a picture to accurately represent what I mean:

I just also really like the thought that love is omnipotent, even though we know there are just some places it cannot grow -I like the thought that we still try to plant it. I like the thought of people who work hard because they can only afford to do something special a couple of times a year. I like the thought of lonely people who act as matchmakers, and Valentine's Friendship dates, and parents bonding with their children,  making Valentine's cards, and I even like the thought that maybe some people will have to part ways because something better is about to come.

The thing about Valentine's that I love the most is that it was never about love to me. It's about the opportunity for it.

I was a very shy kid growing up. I'm still kind of shy now, actually, but there's something about Valentine's that makes me feel like it's okay to be a little extra when it comes to affection, and I think it's because there's just so much opportunity to. Opportunity to feel loved. Opportunity to feel appreciated. Opportunity to express kindness. Every so often I come across someone yelling, "Hey, don't forget -you shouldn't show you care on just one day!". I agree. Every day is a day of opportunity for love and kindness, but not every day is a day when this opportunity is amplified. We are a festive society, and holidays like Valentine's Day are outlets to celebrate the things you just don't realize you need to express. As humans, we kind of suck. We are forgetful. And sometimes, not very thoughtful at all. But I'd like to think we try, because we have the opportunity to.

I have always loved Valentine's Day. I find significant others in the friends, and family I surround myself with. I've found a significance in myself, and in being alone. I am always grateful for days when the opportunities are just as great as the expectations, because I take it as a reminder to grow, to love, and to be kind.

As extra as I can.
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VLOG: Casa Loma: A Castle in Toronto

My partner and I went to Casa Loma to see their Christmas display, and boy, oh boy can you imagine living in a castle and not even needing to be royalty? Being a lover of all things British, it was such a treat to visit the residence of Sir Henry Mill Pellatt, which paid homage to the Gothic Revival architecture (brought by Britain) that's fairly prominent in Canada.

During the trip, we only scratched the surface of the history behind Casa Loma and its many rooms -more research provides insight to the crookedness, and rise and fall of Sir Henry Mill Pellatt. Maybe we'll come back in October, when the castle is decked out in Halloween attire to possibly see if the stories are true that Casa Loma is haunted. Spooky.

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