Thursday, September 24, 2009
back to black
i gave up on my mission to return to my natural hair colour today. back to jet black. somehow it feels more natural than natural
Friday, September 18, 2009
rebirth
This may be the beginning of a grand, glorious new blog. It may fall flat on its ass. I embrace either possibility.
I have, in fact, eleminated the content of my previous blog from the digital surface of the world. From here I start anew, a much different person than he who wrote that blog almost two years ago.
So...what? Where's my head at?
I believe I have learned a lot in the last year. Or maybe I've learnt nothing, actually. I mean, I basically follow the same (somewhat self-destructive) patterns. But to my benefit I suppose I have had more experience with just how far I can fuck myself over.
This summer I found myself in Vancouver, living in Point Grey, just a stone's busride throw from UBC, ever so perfectly poised to seize the chotchy academia of it all. One failed job transfer and a snotch of poo from my room-mate on the bathroom later, I was in a space of questioning what the hell I was doing there. What did I want? What do I want?
I think my whole journey to Vancouver started when I had friends moving in that direction a couple of years ago. They assured me that I would be happier and freer in a large city, full of intellectual and creative possibilities.
The problem with this plan is that I didn't want anything that Vancouver could offer me. I just wanted to run. Last summer I ended up looking for a place to live with a friend down there. We spent a whole day searching, and in the end I just couldn't go through with it. I came back home with my tail between my legs and signed up for a course on what may have been a misguided attempt at a solid career and life path. This year I actually did the impossible and found a place to live, and I even lived there!! For a whole month!! Why not, eh? I even had two thousand dollars in scholarship handed to me by the school for this fall.
But I wasn't happy. I was unhappy. I was sad. I had become so much comfortable with myself and the person that I could be since the first time I tried to move. But that didn't make me feel better about being off on my own. I wanted to be a part of everything I had missed at home whilst trying to get away from it.
I watched a movie tonight about young people in Paris. I just wish I could walk out my door and be in France, and then come home at the end of the day and be able to go to sleep here in my own bed.
Gahhhhhhh! I think my train of thought is derailed. Sleep.
I have, in fact, eleminated the content of my previous blog from the digital surface of the world. From here I start anew, a much different person than he who wrote that blog almost two years ago.
So...what? Where's my head at?
I believe I have learned a lot in the last year. Or maybe I've learnt nothing, actually. I mean, I basically follow the same (somewhat self-destructive) patterns. But to my benefit I suppose I have had more experience with just how far I can fuck myself over.
This summer I found myself in Vancouver, living in Point Grey, just a stone's busride throw from UBC, ever so perfectly poised to seize the chotchy academia of it all. One failed job transfer and a snotch of poo from my room-mate on the bathroom later, I was in a space of questioning what the hell I was doing there. What did I want? What do I want?
I think my whole journey to Vancouver started when I had friends moving in that direction a couple of years ago. They assured me that I would be happier and freer in a large city, full of intellectual and creative possibilities.
The problem with this plan is that I didn't want anything that Vancouver could offer me. I just wanted to run. Last summer I ended up looking for a place to live with a friend down there. We spent a whole day searching, and in the end I just couldn't go through with it. I came back home with my tail between my legs and signed up for a course on what may have been a misguided attempt at a solid career and life path. This year I actually did the impossible and found a place to live, and I even lived there!! For a whole month!! Why not, eh? I even had two thousand dollars in scholarship handed to me by the school for this fall.
But I wasn't happy. I was unhappy. I was sad. I had become so much comfortable with myself and the person that I could be since the first time I tried to move. But that didn't make me feel better about being off on my own. I wanted to be a part of everything I had missed at home whilst trying to get away from it.
I watched a movie tonight about young people in Paris. I just wish I could walk out my door and be in France, and then come home at the end of the day and be able to go to sleep here in my own bed.
Gahhhhhhh! I think my train of thought is derailed. Sleep.
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