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Tuesday, March 31, 2009

To my Gr. 8, 9, and 10 Best Friend.

Hey Jesse. I know you will never read this, as I have not talked to you in almost 6 years now, but I just wanted to say I miss you brother.

We used to be inseparable back in the day. Remember Ms. Shipley? The comfy couch that we used to all gather round at the end of the day? How about our fascination with Magic the Gathering? Do you remember how I was too poor to afford more than one deck, so you would lend me cards and let me pretend they were mine for the day? I miss that.

We were such dorks. I still reminisce about the 4 tapes worth of recordings we made for our "talk show" and the mock fantasy fights in the woods with broken branches. I remember corrupting your brother and introducing him into our twisted version of reality. The first time I ever ate hamburger helper was at your house and the first time you ate curry, was at mine. Even playing countless hours of N64 while gorging ourselves on White Spot was time well wasted. Hell, I even miss the one month you stayed at my house when things got too much for you at home. It was a fun month.

Dude. Where the fuck did you go?

We spent countless hours talking about what we would do when we grew up and how much our parents pissed us off. Oh we were bad asses.

I smoked my first joint with you. We were sitting in the woods, debating what to eat with our allowance, when you brought out the mystical white cocoon. I was shocked and fascinated. You had already smoked once you said, and I had to try it. So we did, burning the chronic with nonchalant ease. I remember walking around Hendersons Centre, massive grin on my face and experiencing what could only be described as floating on air. That was a good day, and I thank you for that.

As time went on, we slowly started drift apart. You made friends with a different crowd, and we hopelessly struggled to maintain our friendship. It was inevitable that it would fall through the cracks, yet we still tried. We still met occasionally, but only to do asinine and completely pointless things. Although to be fair, fire hockey and the "tow a fridge with a car while someone sits in it" incident(s) were quite memorable.

We clicked again in Gr. 11 for a little while, however that was only due to the Nepal trip (fucking mrs. brown that cunt). Once that ended, we drifted back to our respected crowds and things returned to high school normality.


Remember when you got beat up on the way to school back in the day? I was so angry. You were unusually ok with it, but I was fuming. I wanted to find the people who had done this to you and rip their faces off. Granted I was a small child, but even back then I had some serious fire in me.

Listen man, if in some fucked up reality you ever do read this, get in touch with me. I don't have your number, your address, last known whereabouts. Nothing. You literally dropped off the face of the planet. Hell, I talked to Daesha a little while ago, and she told me last she talked to you was about 4 years ago.

Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego eh?

So lets talk about the 7 most horrifying parasites known to man.

Parasites that will make you afraid to leave your bed.

Jesus. Just.


My favorite out of all of them is the Horsehair worm. That's manipulation at its finest.

Monday, March 30, 2009

Ladies and Gentleman, I have been completely sober for 1 week now.

Thank you, thank you.

I would like to thank all the little people that helped me along the way. Mostly the banking folk at Coast Capital Savings, and PC Financial who keep reminding me that I have no money to spend on booze. My brain cells, in conjunction with my liver give you their hearty applause in this one week of sobriety.

I wont lie, it was and still is a difficult path to tread. When living the hostel life, alcohol and debauchery almost become second nature to the avid traveler. Food and good sense take a back seat to sex, drugs, and rock and roll.

Some may call me a quitter, while others remain too fucked up to make coherent sentences. But I, Husain motherfucking Vahanvaty, will remain vigilant in my quest of not drinking until I absolutely have to (which will probably be until tomorrow because Im meeting someone for drinks, but hey I tried).

Backpacking alone and sober is quite the experience that everyone should try only once in their life. I once called alcohol a social lubricant, and by god it has never rang truer than in this past week. You see people who remain hermits throughout the day until the goon or VB gets brought out onto the table. Personalities take a dramatic shift, often taking on a livelier tone. Stories of grandeur and opulence spill out of mouths which otherwise dont utter much throughout the day. Gestures of love, hate, disgust all make an appearance (on a good night that is!) leaving the drinker exhausted from such an outpouring of emotion.

Alcohol has a tendency to reveal truth to an observant individual. You can often form a pretty strong picture of ones true personality when under the drink. Obviously you cannot judge an individual fully from one night of mayham but there is some truth in those actions. It can (again only to the observant person), shed some light on what one hides underneath.

Oh ye beautiful spirit.

What was I talking about again?

Sunday, March 29, 2009

No sound ever comes from the gates of eden.

This is an apology for all the people who I should be keeping in touch with, but am not. This is of coarse assuming all those people read this thing (which I know they dont). But hey, its out there.

Sorry. You know I love you all.

In case you are angry or pissed off at me, I offer you a gesture straight from the heart. Music will heal the soul.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Free Wifi access in the public library. Yay!

So I am giving my dainty feet a rest after another few hours of hitting the pavement in an endless search for work. It is not as easy as my naive self once thought.

It seems I have come to Australia at an interesting time. The global recession has finally strolled into Oz with a vicious hit to the side of the head. The flooding and fires in the south (where I currently am) doesn't help the situation any either. My funds are dwindling to the point of no return. Money needs to start making its way into my pocket very soon or I fear I might have to come home. Technically speaking I actually am in the negative, but that's why god invented credit cards! High five for debt and ridiculous interest rates! Also, it turns out that there was a large hiring binge that occurred 20 days ago (which I clearly missed) and the next big one is expected to happen sometime in June or July.

Sigh. What has it been? 2 months? Not even. Granted I took almost no money with me and it has been quite a miracle that I have survived here this long, what with the incessant partying and obscene amount of drinking. But I don't want to leave yet!


In all honesty I have no one to blame except for myself. The first month and a half I did nothing but party, and then party some more. I drank, ingested different substances, met alot of people, and generally had a fantastic/hazy time. There were people (who I probably wont ever see again), that I now consider life long friends. They were catalysts for certain realizations within my own psyche that I did not know existed and without them I would still be walking through life eyes half closed (contrary to what people in Vancouver may think).

I met gangsters, reformed drug addicts, actual drug addicts, whores, nerds, cranky old women, successful 50+ year old stoners, alcoholics, the content, the scared, the ones searching, the ones who think they found, and the ones who think its just enough to do the bare minimum and survive.

I regret none of it.

I came to Australia on a whim. I gave up my job, my apartment, my friends....everything. All because something clicked inside of my head. A two hour discussion about travel, turned into an a moment in time that few have had the chance to experience or even balls to try. I'm pretty damn proud of myself and I have nothing left to prove. This is me shining bright.

There might be a few people saying, "I told you so", well...fuck you? I really couldn't care what you think. Let me ask you this, how often have you laid everything on the line not knowing if your going to make it or not? How often have you just walked to where your feet need to be walked to? How often have you just sat down and listened to what you heart says, and then actually done it?! Why are you so goddamn afraid?

Granted, I know I have a home to go back to. My parents (the amazing people they are) have given me their full support and there is no substitute for that kind of love. But, I came to Australia to excel. To find that drive, that push to go over the top and soar. I am renewed. Throw it at my face and I will wipe it away and keep walking forward.

I still have some time. I will keep searching and I will keep working my ass off. I have no issues with that. But something has changed. I have changed. I am ready.

While, white horses,
They will take me away,
And the tenderness I feel,
Will send the dark underneath,
Will I follow?

Wednesday, March 18, 2009


So I was going through some of my random writings, and I came across this gem. Im not exactly sure what I was thinking when I wrote this down, but it did tickle my funny bone.

Chicka boom.
I am the devil man. Horns coming out of sand. Angel says no, fuck em.
Gabriel you don’t know disco. Dance come through your area. John Travolta, white pantsuit two stepin. Crip it Travolta, you sexy bastard.

Oh my.

Watching art evolve. Literally.

I just watched the coolest video I have seen in a very very long time and thought I would share it with anyone that still pays attention to this thing. It can be found here.

Let me remind you that this is REAL graffiti in conjunction with stop motion.
Simply incredible.

As long as you are here, another favorite graffiti artist of mine is Banksy. His art, found here, is very poignant and offers some fantastic social commentary. Not to mention that its pretty fucking cool!

Tuesday, March 17, 2009


It was already dark when she left surgery. She did not remove her glasses, the street lighting disturbed her, especially the illuminated ads. She went into a chemist to buy the drops the doctor had prescribed, decided to pay no attention when the man who served her commented how unfair it was that certain eyes should be covered by dark glasses, an observation that besides being impertinent in itself, and coming from a pharmacists assistant if you please, went against her belief that dark glasses gave her an air of alluring mystery, capable of arousing the interest of men who were passing, to which she might reciprocate, were it not for the fact that today she had someone waiting for her, an encounter she had ever reason to expect would lead to something good, as much in terms of material as in terms of other satisfactions.

The man she was about to meet was on old acquaintance, he did not mind when she warned him she could not remove her glasses, an order, moreover, the doctor had not as yet given, and the man even found it amusing, something different. On leaving the pharmacy the girl hailed a taxi, gave the name of a hotel. Reclining on the seat, she was already savoring,if the term is appropriate, the various and multiple sensations of sensuous pleasure, from that first, knowing contact of lips, from that first intimate caress, to the successive explosions of an orgasms that would leave her exhausted and happy, as if she were about to be crucified, heaven protect us, in a dazzling and vertiginous firework. So we have every reason to conclude that the girl with dark glasses, if her partner has known how to fulfill his obligation, with perfect timing and technique, always pays in advance and twice as much as she later charges. Lost in these thoughts, no doubt because she had just paid for a consultation, she asked herself weather it would be a good idea to raise, starting from today, what, with cheerful euphemism, she was wont to describe as her just level of compensation.

She ordered the taxi-driver to stop one block before her destination, mingled with the people who were following in the same direction, as if allowing herself to be carried along with them, anonymous and without any outward sign of guilt or shame. She entered the hotel with a natural air, crossed the vestibule in the direction of the bar. She had arrived a few minutes early, therefore she had to wait, the hour of their meeting had been arranged with precision. She asked for a soft drink, which she drank at her leisure, without looking at anyone for she did not wish to be mistaken for a common whore in pursuit of men. A little later, like a tourist going up tot her room to rest after having spent the afternoon in the museums, she headed for the elevator. Virtue, should there be anyone who still ignores the fact, always finds pitfalls on the extremely difficult path of perfection, but sin and vice are so favored by fortune that no sooner did she get there than the elevator door opened. Two guests got out, an elderly couple, she stepped inside, pressed the button for the third floor, three hundred and twelve was the number awaiting her, it is here, she discreetly knocked on the door, ten minutes later she was naked, fifteen minutes later she was moaning, eighteen minutes later she was whispering words of love that she no longer needed to feign, after twenty minutes she began to lose her head, after twenty-one minutes she felt that her body was being lacerated with pleasure, after twenty-two minutes she called out, Now, now, and when she regained consciousness she said exhausted and happy, I can still see everything white.

Edit : This is a passage taken out of the book "Blindness" by José Saramago. Forgot to give it credit before. :)

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Missed connections.

I have this weird fascination with Craigslist missed connections. I think it has something to do with the fact that everyone at some level wants another to crave them. Craved so badly, that it cant be verbalized and spoken but instead has to be put through a completely anonymous medium.

Yes, alot of this has to do with fear, and rejection. But what happens when you KNOW you cant be with a particular person at this point in your life? Love, infatuation, or lust isnt exactly something that can just be turned off with a flick of the switch. It needs to be expressed in some way. So, craigslist is the perfect tool for that. An outpouring of all that sits on your heart without any reciprocation, be it good or bad.

Sometimes, it is neccesary. Saying all that needs to be said, so that at some level the message exists. The universe is a funny entity that way. Once all that you exude becomes genuine, life becomes malleable. Putty to be sculpted any way you see fit.


I am healing a tattered body.

These bruises and scars over my body will make a great story one day, but as of right now every single muscle hurts. Aches and pains throb through my senses to the point where turning my head is painful.

I know that's a hell of a way to start of any entry, so to alleviate any concerns...I AM OK. Yes, I'm in pain, but nothing permanent. I hope. I don't really feel like going into a story here...ohhh suspense, but safe to say alcohol, other "ingestable items" and bad decisions were involved.

Actually, I wouldn't even say it was a bad decision, but more of a lapse of good judgement

I did find out something about myself that night though, and that is that I have some substantial strength in my sinewy 145 pound body.

Oh yea. It was definitely one of those nights. Going up against a man that has over 50 pounds on muscle on you, still being able to stand your ground very well, and forging a significant amount of mutual respect afterward.

Go me!

There was no maliciousness in any sense of the word, just some good ol' testosterone and um...manliness? Oh god, that sounds absolutely juvenile, but you had to be there really. A test of unbridled strength, with a measured sense of control.

I'm not entirely sure why I chose to share this little tidbit, as I already have some great stories which would generate some severe envy, but my fingers led me this way. So yea.

I could talk about the beautiful women here (oh my god), the unbelievable beaches, or even the fantastic life stories I have heard over the coarse of this month but I chose not to. Perhaps that's says something about me. The ugly eyes of the ego peeking its head out, talons ready to slice a throat. Or, it could be because I have never had such an extreme test of my own power before. One that pushed me and my combatant to the fullest extent, exhausting every single piece of energy in our bodies and still feeling pretty damn good afterwards.

In summary, I am strong as fuck.

High five yo!

Thursday, March 5, 2009

BTSeeds. Awaken your body and mind.

I dont usually do these types of promotions unless I truly believe they have something to offer to the mass. This product is an amazing one, and has my full support. Below is some information on the product itself. At the very least, I beg you to read the research and try some. It will change your life for the better.

Flax seed lignans was discovered in 1956, but it wasn’t until the 1980’s that lignan’s biological properties, began to emerge within the scientific community. One of the first groups to take notice was the National Cancer Institute who studied lignans for their extraordinary potential and cancer preventative properties. It is a common known fact that people who excrete high amounts of lignans in their urine, enjoy notably lower cancer rates.

Multiple universities and scientific research groups are showing remarkable results through extensive study of this plant. These studies are showing promise lowered rates of breast cancer, prostate cancer, skin/melanoma cancer, lung cancer, AIDS, heart disease, diabetes type 1 and 2, kidney disorders, arteriosclerosis, endotoxic shock, lupus, and menopause.
Other benefits include improved skin and hair, healthy cell production, aids in fat and weight reduction, and can also prevent muscular damage and contains anti-parasitic qualities.

When the plant lignan SDG (Secoisolariciresinol Diglucoside) from flax seed is ingested, it is converted by bacteria into two types of ‘mammilian lignans’. The first type is Enterodial (ED) and the second is Enterolactone (EL). Studies around the world are showing the important health benefits due to this conversion of flax lignan in the body.

The SDG Lignan not only contains anti-cancer properties, but also acts as a powerful antioxidant which in turn enhances the immune system.

To date, the benefits of flax and flax oil have been widely recognized and exploited. Contrary to popular belief, flax oil does not contain a significant amount of lignans, only 2% of what one would recieve through this product. This is due to the fact that lignans are not found in the oil, but in the flax seed itself.

Flax seed lignans adhere tightly to the seed and therefore over the years has been subject to various chemical processes that attempt to extract exactly what this product offers!

LiganGold has the rights to an exclusive process that not only offers your 100% of the ligans properties, but at a very affordable price.

Those who know me, KNOW I never prostitute myself like this. So, on that note take a look at the website or feel free to call for more information. or telephone: 1.778.340.8972

Wednesday, March 4, 2009


Sometimes its better to think. To lye on a beach somewhere and ponder. Ponder the eternal questions of life, ponder the why's, the who's, and the what's. Sometimes its better to talk. Vomit the incessant gibberish that comes tumbling out of your mouth. Share all that is on your brain without a care in the world of who you influence or who you hurt.

Often is better to do neither but to sit and listen. Absorb all that is around you and be aware. Listen to the crickets chirping their melody, the pit pat of bare feet on the pavement, or the slow breathing of a lovers breath. Listen to the stories of wonder and mystery, while never forgetting to pay attention to the bullshit, the lies, and the half truths. Always revel in the song of life, because it will lead your feet to where they need to rest.

Psuedo-intellectualism? Maybe.

Yet, all I do is write what I feel. As I have mentioned before, perhaps I really don't know what I am talking about. I write from experience and emotion and if that in itself does not contain some semblance of truth then I might as well pack my bags and throw my pen away. For then, I have absolutely nothing to offer.

I am what I am. I offer you glimpses, and its up to you if you want to ignore them or to listen.

I love, I breath.
Much like you, I am human and capable of much fallacy. Do not take my words for truth, because I do not offer them as so. They are an extension of my life, and accordingly should be nothing but words to you.

Sigh. I have become much too pensive for my own mental health these days. I want to turn it all off, I dont want to write about these things. I wish I could. I wish.


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