The Job Hunt

Some months ago, I remember hearing about how many reporters had been suddenly laid off at the Ottawa Citizen and the Ottawa Sun. While I felt no small amount of sympathy towards these individuals--some of which I'd met in the media industry--my first thought was, "Crap...the industry is about to get flooded with competition."

I was nearing the end of my job contract at my current location at the time and I was already on the hunt for a new position. Moving wasn't exactly an option for me so knowing that there would be other journalists in my area looking for the same kind of work I wanted really lit up warning signs.

It's been a bit of a struggle ever since.  I haven't managed to secure a position since my contract ended other than a bit of freelance bits here and there but nothing reliable for a proper income.

I have plenty of experience in communications but even that is a competitive industry when you don't have more than four years under your belt. So you do what you can with the skills you have: blog, write, pitch where you can and just keep on looking.

I'm luckier than most and qualified for EI but I'm really looking forward to a salary again. To say I've had cabin fever for a few months isn't a joke.  I am totally ready to work but while I send out my resume to as many outlets as I can, I seldom get any calls and when I do, I'm told I interview well but the position has been filled.

Even my bilingualism doesn't seem to help right now.

The competition is disheartening but I'm far too much an optimist to throw in the towel. I love to write and I want it to show. I'll convince someone soon, I'm sure of it!

I hope...

Goodbye

It's hard enough to say farewell
There's no use saying more
Even if I broke the silence
You'd still head for the door

We both know what I want to say
I can see it in your eyes
You want to say it just as much
Instead we'll say goodbye

So this is goodbye
This was our final day
Even if I said I love you
You’d still just walk away

Everything else has all been said
There's nothing left to do
Even though you're the one for me
And I'm the one for you

You told me not to wait for you
I'm trying to move on
A day, a week, it all goes by
I wish you hadn't gone

But we had our goodbye
And we had our final day
Even if I'd said I loved you
You'd still have walked away

This poem was inspired by the storyline of two fictional characters, just for the record.

Salvation

So unexpected, snapping me back into place
When once I wandered, not quite finding my space
How did it come to this?

And yet here you are and I have to hold back
Struggling to cling onto the resolve that I lack
How did it come to this?

This blissful distraction without limitation
Drives me to indulge in the greatest temptation
I trust that you suffer an equal sense of frustration
Why does it feel as if I've found my salvation?

I find myself reining in the fiend within me
Burning from those urges I dread setting free
Why would I run away from this?

Bittersweet desire engulfs me in flame
I cry out at night, calling out your name
Why would I run away from this?

This blissful distraction without limitation
Drives me to indulge in the greatest temptation
I trust that you suffer an equal sense of frustration
Why does it feel as if I've found my salvation?

The Queen of Crazy

Well she walks around like she owns the place
Just because she's got a pretty face
She lacks for brains but has the beauty
She's convinced that she is quite the cutie
She's sometimes known as the Ossan Lady
But she's actually the Queen of Crazy

She loves to pick her lowborn lovers
From the 'Reach's overflowing gutters
She takes her pick from all the trash
And goes for big boys, brutes and brash
Her white knights are all dressed in rags
Her best friend's a lordling who always brags
She's sometimes known as the Ossan Lady
But she's actually the Queen of Crazy

She claims to have all sorts of ties
Ministerial connections made from lies
Half the time she's stoned to death
She smokes too much and has foul breath
But if you dare her to a game of wit
She'll lose the game then lose her shit

So watch out for Her Dark-skinned Majesty
Dressed in her golden finery
Attended by sterling stupidity
She's sometimes known as the Ossan Lady
All hail to the bitchy Queen of Crazy

Insomnia

Here it is I lie
Another sleepless night
I stare at everything
Walls, ceilings, shadows
Here's the hour when
My thoughts drift to you the most
Yet I'd prefer to dream

Here it is I lie
The dawn drawing nearer
The memory of your face
At its clearest
It's been two months
I wonder sometimes
(I can't help it)
If you miss me just as much

Here it is I lie
In my bed, which we've shared,
And the memories keep me company
In the place that became yours

Is it Saturday or Sunday?
The days are now a blur
But I feel the weight of time
As it passes and yet I stumble along
Too strong to lament
Too stubborn for sadness
They have no place here

Here it is I lie
With my memories of you
Sleepless, awake
And eager for when you get home

The Impossible Dream

There is no pleasure without the pain.
Those words run through my mind, again and again.
With three other words that I'm aching to say,
That end up unspoken at the end of the day.

The pain that I suffer makes me want to die,
To leave this cruel world and go touch the sky.
To leave behind what I know and embrace the unknown
Because they say that the future isn't written in stone.

My tears fall in silence in the darkest of night.
I try to hold back, though I have not the might.
I dream that a day will come to me soon
Where I'll be held in your arms 'neath the light of the moon.

Dreams are the essence of the lives that we want.
They torture and tease, encourage and taunt.
I would live there forever if it meant you were mine,
To hover in warmth until the end of all time.

Your touch is a whisper that brushes my mind.
Your kiss is a treasure that I'm struggling to find.
Your smile is a diamond that shines with the stars,
And I stand alone, forced to watch from afar.

I reach out to touch you, to stroke your long hair
Yet my fingers find nothing and brush against air.
And my heart cracks and bleeds and it echoes my scream,
To know that our meeting is the Impossible Dream.

(Old poem from November 2003. I would definitely have made a few changes to it if it was written today!)

Sweet Dreams

This is my nightmare.
Tried, tested and true.
I built it with the remnants
Of my memories of you.

This is my nightmare.
Hope you'll stay a while.
I've got loads of nasties
That won't make you smile.

This is my nightmare.
Founded from regret.
Of the times that we've lost.
Of the day that we met.

This is my nightmare.
Tried, tested and true.
I hope that you'll like it
Since I built it for you.

Sweet dreams...

(I actually wrote this in October 2004. I really like it so I'm putting it here!)