One Day (At a Time)

a short poem celebrating acceptance and positivity (30 second read)


One day,

There will be a stronger, better

Happier, healthier


But I am not it

I never will be, ’cause

I’m unwilling to throw away the

Freedom of knowing that, being me is being

Strong and weak, better and worse

Happy and sad, healthy and sick

I’m everywhere and

All around


Put your hand over your heart and feel how much it believes in you.

Blade Runner 2049

This is another movie you have to see. 

I recommended Get Out last time because it brought me new ideas. Newness is a difference that gives interestingness. The Blade Runner 2049 is also interesting in that sense. But it returns to a lot of the older questions that humanity faces. 

I won’t spoil it here. Perhaps not until after it has gone out of the cinema. But watch it. I cannot praise it in all aspects; there are certainly some things I strongly disliked. The violence is one of them. But the takeaways are huge. What struck me the most, was that it made me confront the question of God again. The debate about God’s existence suddenly seemed like an argument from above, a confusion of terms. (I will go more into this in a later post, I promise. It is something I really want to explore with you.) 

So if you enjoy thinking about the direction humanity is headed (or not), you’ll find museworthy content in the Blade Runner 2049. Just make sure you get back to reality. I know I had a hard time with that one–as every powerful movie usually leaves me that way.

I went to beautiful SF city to watch it.

Get Out

No spoilers here, but if you have yet to see the film, stop reading and do it right now.

This is so much more than just another film on race.

It’s trippy.


Thoughtfully crafted.

Full of good laughs.

And awakening.

I’m really not a fan of horror movies, especially the cheesy ones with lots of blood and jump-scares. I prefer mellow and light-hearted films. Yeah, heart attacks are a real concern for this old girl. But this one transcends horror–it goes so far beyond the norm that I’m left wondering, from where does the deepest darkness spring?

In us, from us, and through us it flows.

In the mirror, the naked beast stares with its glistening yellow eyes. I’m lucky to be so blind that I’ve avoided death by eye contact! But, it is only a matter of time before I have to look into its eyes to see who I really am.

Meritocratic decadence

the black tunnel is lit–

a pin of light

sowing grains of shadow.

the origin of my germ prior to the fusion of my body, the

independent mountaineers of their lives

climb on.

into the fray of foam the waves clamour,

reaching and tearfully melding with the clouds of rain

at last, a sad ship succumbs


into the depths of happy hell.

oh happiness! Atlantis is found, here, the

underworld of the youthful,

purgatory of the vibrant;

they feast in the wet glow of twilight,

breathing crisp water and drinking bubbly air,

dancing, singing,

their mouths moving like fish

choking in a mid-summer algal bloom, dying in shallow filth and scum of rotting flesh and stagnant silt.

riches of the world, have at it! the

sky is yours, so are the mountains,

trees, deserts and snowflakes!

why turn them down? is there no more to complement your possessions in competence?

what speaks of a privation more

than to accept such gifts–they will not do.

your pleasures are plenty as the stars are endless,

you want no more, and yet you can’t have less.

it rains in the tunnel, but

it is awash with the touch of light.

as oil seeps out of the asphalt bridge,

and cigarette filters swim down the creek,

dust motes hitch a ride on the drops of rain


like leprechauns into a pot of gold

like raindrops

like grenades into the micro-terrain of boulders and lakes

like tears

riding the salt of hard work, of happiness.

An abattoir of words

The world of animals is where we end the journey of self-discovery.

Harvey, Harvey, don’t leave without your coat. And take an umbrella with you; it looks a bit gray.

Maa, I’ll only be a while. The weather report said forty per cent; I’m taking a chance.


My boy!

’Ow lovely to see you ’ere, come in! Come right in–that’s right, wipe your feet, we don’t want them nasty flea spawn around ’ere. Would you like some meat cake? Some squirrel gravy? We just ’ad tea, ’ope you like oolong. ’Ow is your ma doing? Still upset about that Olady Johnson? A sheep’s a sheep, I’ll tell you! Whether their faces’ black or white, they can’t look you in the eye ‘cause they always tell a lie!

Oh Mr. Bigly, I can’t say the same. Maa has made up with Olady.

In fact, they have moved in together.

Mr. Bigly sips his tea, thinks that is ridiculous. Goat and sheep just don’t mix. It must look like a varmin bedroom in there, what with all their messy ways.

Mr. Bigly, may I ask you a question?

Of course, ’arvey! Go on, what is it?

You see, I’ve come to inform you that I intend to marry your daughter. Mo and I have known each other for two years, and during this time I have discovered no greater joy in life than that she brings me. We have been through thick and thin; we love each other deeply. Rest assured she and I have discussed our future to great lengths. We know what kind of family we want, and we would like to start it soon. In any case, do we have your blessing?

The old terrier stroked his beard. At the thought of his beautiful bitch settling down with a fine specimen like Harvey, a tear came to his eye. Do you mean there will be puppises? And I’ll be a grandada?

Yes, puppises for you to grandada away.

Then you have it, son!

Thank you, Mr. Bigly. Now I shall be off.


I’m home, Maa. See, not a drop of rain.

Did he say yes?

Of course he did. Mo and I just didn’t want him to feel left out, now that we have our own lives.

Well, good for you. My boy knows how to look after himself, I am happy to die. All these years I’ve waited and waited for you to grow up, and look it’s here!

Oh Maa, don’t say that. You’re not that old. You’ll be around for the puppises. You and Olady too.

I don’t know, Harv. All I know is you will make a terrific father. Just like your dad was.

Harvey wondered what his dad would have been like if he hadn’t died. God bless his soul, he was only forty-two.

Continue reading “An abattoir of words”

Starting Training as a Peer Counselor

As ironic as it may seem to me, I am starting my first day of training as a peer counselor at my university.

I’m extremely honoured and happy to have the opportunity to do so. What does it feel like to be moving towards my life goal? Excited, slightly scared, hopeful.

The model we will be trained with is the Rogerian model, which to my knowledge focuses on providing non-judgmental understanding and support, minus any kind of advising. I’ll learn how to help a patient explore their feelings, and how to guide them to discover their own solutions to their problems, meanwhile inspiring them to feel hope.

Ideally, of course. It is supposed to be simple. But what’s simple is usually very hard in one way or another. Can I imagine myself as someone who does not give advice? Impossible. Don’t we all naturally want to give advice when we hear someone talk about their situation? It’s almost absurd that one can have zero conscious or subconscious attitudes about how things should be, including how they can be fixed. Continue reading “Starting Training as a Peer Counselor”