• 12 Nov, 2025 *

I am listening to a video about the process of letting go.

Things I don’t want to let go of:

• the version of myself that is uncomfortable with change and with growth and with trusting myself.
• The little boy I was when it all started, the awkward loner in grade 11, the confident but struggling boy who thought he knew it all in university.
• The depressive.
• The recovering depressive.
• The binge eater and the porn watcher.
• The day dreamer.
• The boy who thinks his Dad is the smartest person in the world and who’s Grandpa is the most important man in Canada.
• Who’s Nonno and Nonna is the ideal description of the immigrant dream.
• The little boy who knows he is special and loved and will be great.
• The teenager and young man who thinks he will be great.
• The late twenties something that thinks he will be great.
• The desire to be great.
• The desire to be remembered.
• The desire to be better than others.
• The desire to be known and celebrated.
• My ego and my Id.
• My flaws
• my guilt and my shame
• my name
• my fear

My first love. Riptide. Cheating and heartbreak. My second love. Cheating and heartbreak and learning who I am. Chet Faker. Kill All Bakers. Captain PDA. Weed brownies and Edinburgh.

Needy boy, incredible.

Kingston, Ontario. The Tragically Hip. Drone videos of houses, weddings, and boats. Sci ‘18. Drinking in class. Peeing down the Vic Hall stairwell. Chief Frec. Purple people. Plant. Cringing at my leadership or lack there of. Design team. Webmaster. Vagina.

Mario Kart. Zoo the tv show. Ouiji board. Facebook Live. Dishes fight. Cleaning house. Up and down. Graffiti art.

Crying often. All alone. Never feeling, I was right. Volunteering, it made me feel good. Lots of people. Felt like stealing.

Dancing. Drinking. Puking. Party hardy smarty. Clepty. Raidy, Toasty. Leonard Hall. The Arc.

Just talked with a potential guest for the podcast. A real estate agent in Colorado. He was shot at a party in 2023 and is now in a wheelchair. Talking to him made me soften my sour resolve. Young. Only 21 years old. Crazy. Excited to have him on.

Movie nights, drive program. Didn’t have a bed frame until I started seeing a girl. Neglect. Intrigue. Silence. Loudness. More peeing in places you’re not supposed to pee.

Basketball. Swimming. Working out. Running. Random fitness challenges. Football games. Grease poll. Rugby, frizbee, soccer. Girls. Awkward encounters. Sexual mishaps. Shame. Fun.

Challenges. Friendship. Self-Discovery. Jealousy.

Kissing. Fighting. Passion aggression. Ping pong in the garage. Dinner parties, steak and wine. Road trips, flights home, seeds sown.

Anger and happiness and hope.

Danger and sanity and dope.

Self selection. Misdirection. Imperfection. Hugh G. Rection.

Letting go is hard to do. Sometimes I feel I let go but I don’t. A piece of me holds on tight and brings it with me everywhere. It’s heavy holding onto all these things; maybe I can put them down.

And when or if I see them again I can smile and thank them for no longer making me frown.

I’d like to thank you all that hoped. And dreamed. And handed me many things.

I try to hope and dream and share these many gifts. I don’t know if I do it right. But try and cry and pay the bribes.

Who’s there? It seems to just be me. And who is me? I can barely see.

Invisible. Indivisible.

Inconsonant. Incompetent. Incontinence.

Dribble drabble. Let’s Skedaddle.

Tinky Winky. Dipsy. Laa Laa. Po.

Not sure who or where or what I am. When I am. Or Why I am. But here I am.

Here I am.