Words that get Overused

“Hey and don’t forget to send up the rest of your demos to Chris before Friday.” My sister says to me over the phone.

“Nope, I think I’m just going to quit the band that we’ve been in for nearly ten years and feel that five records thus far is sufficient for me.” I reply back to her in a dry tone.

“Uh huh, yeah ok.” She says casually as if in a routine way.

“I was kidding by the way, just in case you couldn’t tell.” I scoff back.

“Hey what did you think of that one with the riffs and…” She is interrupted by me.

“I thought that one was really insightful, the arrow one, no its catchy.”

“Ok, when you’re using words like 'insightful', I know you are not really paying attention.”

“I’m sorry, Its just that…you are getting me at a bad time. I’m supposed to be running right now. I’m committed.” I pace back through my living room watching the clock and observe just how dark it is outside.

“Isn’t it too late to be running over there?” She questions with caution.

“Maybe for you being three hours ahead.”

“Fine whatever, just make sure that Chris has enough time to review all of our demos, please? We should try to get them in by Friday.” My sister says to me over the phone.

I roll my eyes while glancing over at the TV on mute. “Yeah, of course. Most of mine are already done, but there’s still one that I haven’t been able to put to rest. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you, bye.”

After hanging up the phone, I change into my ‘running outfit’ if that's what you want to call it, grab my ipod, keys, and bolt out of the door. My thumb slides up the screen watching the titles swish by as I reach the top to find the shuffle. From there I take Parker passing Bosa Foods. This time I go north up Commercial drive. The song 'My Girls' comes up first, which for running in Vancouver at night can be a real treat.

Getting up to the intersection, I have been taking a left on Hastings for a month now which is in the direction of Gastown, usually I’m weary about this, but for some reason, I'm drawn to it. I feel like I need to be there. The song currently is ‘Happy Nation’ as I'm running past the curled up sleeping bags along the sidewalks of Jackson Ave. The boarded up windows from the run-down businesses are always being salvaged to make mini bonfires, keeping the hunched over silhouettes warm in between the alleyways that I pass by while continuing west. The tips of the towering seaport cranes barely are seen past the tops of the pointed houses that are shut up from urine stained mattresses and marked with painted X's. Some druggies pass by laughing incessantly while chasing others on the street with shopping carts. What am I doing? Sara would never approve of this. I’m the more ‘irrational’ one as she would put it, but whatever. There is really no way of getting out how awful this place is and just how many are suffering from addiction, hunger, deprivation of a home. I get asked for money five or six times at least to which I reply with a quick head shake. If I didn't know any better, I would say that this place is...hell.