Thursday, August 11, 2011


I'm sitting at the Cobourg beach alone with my thoughts. The waves are rustling lightly against a dirty shore. The beach sand is littered with cigarette butts as smells of fish detritus linger in the lake Ontario breeze. People are playing volleyball. Cheers, laughs and hollow ball smack sounds are alight.

Earlier today, I played some golf with a friend. The crack of a golf ball off the head of a driver in a treed corridor is a thing of beauty and solace. My friend and I shared some expensive beers and took in some scenery. It has been a good day considering the events of the past few days. Lately, some events have transpired that have made me question some friendships and the fibre of those very friendships. Don't get me wrong - I make mistakes all the time and I am nowhere near perfect. But one thing I have no time, energy or respect for is throwing friends under the bus to clear your own name. Bus-throwers usually have an opportunity to take the high road and sacrifice themselves for a friend, but they will always take the low road and leave their friends hung out to dry.

Another thing I have lost all sympathy for is 'deadbeatery'. By deadbeatery, I'm referring to a breed of humans who never have any money and somehow learn to expect that others will pay for them out of empathy.

The last and final persona that I can no longer associate myself with are 'axe-wielders'. Axe-wielders are people who have long stored grudges and anger against you, but who are too infantile with their emotions to express how they feel. They then, therefore, wield the axe the first chance they get and turn a minor argument into a soapbox rant and character assault. They lose focus of the argument and go for your jugular.

You can sometimes stay friends with axe-wielders, deadbeats and bus-throwers for a time - but eventually, they will wear you down. They are waiting in the shadows to use you up and move on to their next targets.

I've realized lately that I've been friends with all 3 - and I'm tired of the games they play. I'm tired of being a friend who cares for people - people who, in turn, only care for their own personal gain. These people have no sense of community and are utterly directionless. These people are sad sacks but make no mistake - they want you to feel sad for them.

But it's too late. Your sadness can do nothing. They are wastes of space and they yearn to live off the fat of the land and squat where they can.

If you have any of these people in your life, I implore you to get shut of them.

Dispose of them. Cut off their cancerous touch.

Leave them. Let them writhe in the dust of your creative speed trails. Let them wallow in their mud while you head for salt water springs of clarity. Let them jump from rock and rock and use the land while you blaze new paths and grow new gardens of production and intelligence.

For this life is only a fragment of a pixelated picture of a mountain - but they are only fly specks of colourless shades on the wallpaper behind the frame.

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