I've been depressed about something about as long as I can remember. Or perhaps confused is a better word. Regardless, it wasn't till I was 13 that I finally found my escape. At the age of 13 I took up reading politics and philosophy (and, to a far lesser extent, psychology), bought my first electric guitar, had my first real relationship with a girl, tried drugs, discovered Classic Rock beyond what my parents had played for me (thank you Napster), saw the wonders of France, Germany and Austria and started shinny hockey every day of the week. And do you know what, out of all those things, gave me the best experience? Of course you do - the hockey. For those of you that don't know, shinny is outdoor hockey. Let me paint a little picture. As you approach the entrance to the change room, the arena is situated between a junior high school and my current high school Lawrence Park. At 13 Lawrence Park is a distant future (2 years away to be exact) in my schooling and, to me, holds much the same prestige as a University does in my mind now. It's late November and only about two feet of snow has fallen. Though, as it has piled up on the sides of streets, it looks to be much higher. There's a long poorly paved road leading down to the dressing rooms and enough room for 3 cars to park behind the room. As you walk to the front of the dressing rooms (the back door is locked so to get into the rooms you need to enter the doors which face the rinks) you see one rink with about 40 parents and their kids pleasure skating, the boards and on the opposite side the quick movement of a pick-up game. The first day of every year that I arrive after shinny starts I'm forced to stand for a second and watch for some reason. Enter the dressing rooms and it's poorly built concrete room with wood benches around the outside and one in the middle for people to do their skates up and change and leave all their boots and clothes in while they skate. Walk over to the hockey rink and if it's day time you get the effect of warm weather with a bright sun and a frozen rink. If it's night time you can see the artificial light beaming down on the rink as every type of economic situation, every type of person, every type of job or schoolign and every level of ability joins together to play. My moment of perfection comes about 20 minutes into a game. After I score a goal (which if it hasn't happened by 20 minutes it better damn well happen soon!) and I turn around to teammates who I've never met before coming up and commenting and patting me on the back. Usually I have a hockey jersey on either from my dads old playing days or my own small collection of jerseys with a sweater and t-shirt underneath. For the first 4 minutes I have my mom-required headband and gloves on and afterwards just my hockey gloves. I turn around and the night air hits my face and I can see my breathe and I realize just how perfect everything is. In the winter I'm fortunate, I can generally get this feeling every 2-3 days. I'm 16 and after 3 years of playing every day possible (Christmas and New Years Eve and New Years Day they shut down the hockey rink and make it two pleasure skating rinks - bastards!) I still take just as much wonder from it. I've had deeper feelings for people, experienced death close to myself, had awards and trophies given to me, experienced the unthinkable highs of going on an 22 game winning streak in hockey and still nothing comes close to that moment. So I'm curious...anyone else have a time or place where they get this feeling; this moment of perfection?
yes hm. i think ive probably posted this before.. but oh well.. ill reply.. When im about to perform at a pep rally, during school, and you know EVERYONE is watching... and the lights go off, the spotlight flips on to the center of the floor, where all 16 of us are posed perfectly motionless, waiting for our music to start, then with a blast of sound we snap our heads up and dance this routine we've practiced till we thought we were going to die.. and you hear people in the bleaches yelling, clapping.. and you get to the tough part of the dance.. the toe touch, or the kickline, or the triple pirouette, and bam! you do it. and its perfect.
Getting great marks give me happiness. Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! Some of the best moments come when I'm sitting on my balcony outside my room, and I just look at the stars....I feel near bursting with awe and joy, just to be able to sit there and enjoy the calm, gut-wrenching, fear-induced adrenaline rush of Space. At exactly 8:30 everyday, the sky turns a wonderful, mind-blowing shade of blue, which I find so magnificent I can't help but stare at it. It makes me think of how wonderful everything is, and how precious life is. But for immediate elation, my friends and I go somewhere and go nuts. Like the trip to Playdium, we had so much fun, we're still talking about it 2 years later. Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! Or when I'm in class, and I converse with that one kid who's always sitting in the back and I get them to laugh...it's such a good feeling of happiness and contentment. Not that I go talk to every stranger I meet to get this high, of course. Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! If I have time, I switch on some classical/relax/Celtic music, and just lie down with my eyes closed and release stress. I should be doing it more often though, because the last time I was infuriated, I seriously wanted to smash my head into the wall repeatedly, until either my neck or the wall broke. I didn't care about the pain, I just wanted the violence and disturbing images of spilt brains and gushing blood so badly. Yeah, it's scary. But now I'm fine, because I've surpressed it all down again. Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image!
You just love talking about yourself, dont ya TyPlease Register or Log in to view the hidden image! *kidding, kidding*Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image!
From the bottom of my soul. More importantly, I think I enjoy talking about hockey. And seeing as there ain't exactly a bunch of Canucks here, that isn't easy to pull off. It's just an experience you have to feel to understand.
This problem's appearing more and more. People just don't read long posts! I'm guilty of it myself, because usually by the time I find a long post, my eyes are hurting from staring at the computer screen too much.
i dont read them either.. i just can't consentrate on something for that long.... i usually ry to skim them. and find out atleast what they are talking about... but..
