safe and safely locked away back home.

i have a little bit of a plan.
i need to figure some stuff out before everything goes down.

i'm going to set this plan into motion so that i'm prepared for this mega change i will be placing on myself.

but i don't get why i can't stop crying right now.
i leave for work in half an hour and i just can't stop crying.

retired explorer

crossroads, i guess i'm at 'em.
i'm not the same as i used to be
i can be introspective, i guess. a little lonely though.
this reserved nature i feel i'm exuding more than usual kind of makes me a little anxious.
or maybe something is finally brewing inside.
who knows.

this time i take a camera.
a tripod.
a note book.
a pen.

i have a list of locales, a pair of shoes i love to walk in and music i can drown to.

i want my life to be a black and white film from the 50s.

somebody: the reckless life and remarkable career of

i'm torn between reading and writing.
the walls in my house are too thin to drown everyone else out. which makes studying a distraction packed nightmare.
spaghettification.

the oilers just scored.

i want silk sheets. i want to be naked in them.
i don't have silk sheets, so i'm bundled up in sweatpants.
i've been craving egg salad all day. i don't even know why.
i want to expand my room and remodel everything, i need more hangers.

zeus fucked everything.

i am strongly considering cutting my hair. it will grow later.
i miss the sun, and resent the absence of fall. acclimatizing is hard work.
i crave the feeling of someones hands all over me. i've been too busy, yet not busy at all.

i think it's time for a bubble bath break.

whenorwhere we wandered

to add to my paranoia about being completely bipolar...
i am in a completely different place emotionally at the end of the weekend, compared to where i was at the beginning.

the past 3 days have felt years long.

of course, being 23, i figure i should have more stability in my life. i should just forget this notion and roll with it. friday involved beautiful scenery and one of my best friends and his guitar. there are moments i call "charm bracelet moments" that i emblazon into my head that are somehow transcendent of space and time. friday was one. it was sad, painful, pretty, isolating yet beautiful and everything i expect because i live in a wes anderson movie. the rest of the weekend was dedicated mostly to music with the band. or drinking alone. mostly music though.

sometimes, i get overwhelmed with this whole band thing. i love my bandmates. i love our music. i love how everything just flows together. we're in the process of recording our EP in the most "do it yourself" fashion. macbook, mics macguyvered to mic stands, and praying the phone doesn't ring during a take. it's been easier than i was expecting and the finished results are better than i could have imagined.

i can't wait to play shows, promote our stuff and just enjoy what we've created together.

vancouver trip is coming up. i think.
i wish that i could be closer. i just want to give him the biggest hug in the history of mankind.

life is constantly bittersweet. nothing more nothing less.

drive well, sleep carefully.

contortions and loss of blood flow.
i kind of like that. folded up like a suitcase, shallow breath and sleepless nights.

i love the feeling of sand between my toes. the scratches, the wetness and abrasive erratics. i like being a vistor. i like feeling someone's skin on mine.

i like waking up after a restful night and feeling the weight of gravity so intensely it keeps me in bed well after my alarm. i like debating things in class, i like having an opinion.

i like the warm weather but even moreso, i like how i'm conditioned to it so i can still wear tights with my dresses.

i like planning things secretly and having something to look forward to.

i have 2 days till recording. i'm slacking off because my head is in the clouds.
i'm not ready to come down yet.

not yet.

and i want to walk around with you

the last grain of sand has been cleaned out of the suitcase, brushed off the desk and finally.... vacuumed out of my rug.
my soap is back in the bathroom, my lotion in it's original over 100ml container.
my clothes are washed, wiped and put away. overly lacking in residual campfire smell.

my middle class, conservative shame is back. my activities that i praised myself in have been condemned and mocked and i guess that's alright. it was expected.
i still can't get used to the lack of color here, or the trees that are missing from my peripheral vision. and for some strange reason, i got motion sickness on the LRT this morning.

i feel like a foot in a shoe too small here, but i guess in a week i'll be back to the same shit as before... just with more holes in my chest.

as aware as i am about the difference between holiday and permanent stay, i honestly think that i am a better person in vancouver. it's ridiculous to say this when i have no honest reason to think this. my blatant substance abuse and frivolity with things like hygiene, sleep, sleep, eating regularly, eating healthily and sleeping prove that i really probably am not that much better there than here... however my state of mind is different. i miss the lifestyle, even if it is nothing more than an ideal. i know i can't cavort till all hours of the night, full of booze. or sleep on a beach. but i feel so much better with that ocean beside me.

i'm tired of being someone i'm not to appease people around me.
i just want to read some bukowski on the beach.

route 70

i wish the kids outside making noise would fucking GO to 7-11 already and leave me alone to sit on the deck and stare at those stars. who knew that the sky got that dark? i wish i had a telescope. this might be the closest i will ever get to them. i'm never going to be an astronaut.

the ocean is still pretty. my shirt still smells like the laundry detergent my mom left me at home. my feet are pretty cold and i'm still hating myself for not bringing a cardigan.

as much as i love it here, it feels like my heart isn't in it as much as it was the last time. almost as if i didn't reach the threshold of a personal breakdown enough before i left to really enjoy the vastness of the water i am around. that might change. maybe.

the shell hunting has generally been unsuccessful thus far. i saw many jellyfish corpses, not enough mussels. the wind off the water gave me a permanent chill and now i can't get my feet warm enough. i love marinas and swung on a swing set in front of shoal harbour. i'd be terrified to be on some of those boats in open water. i feel safer in lakes and think that jellyfish are literally terrifying. although the little white ones we saw in beacon were really cute.

i'm on an island and i feel like i am, myself, an island. long distances charges are always daunting, so instead i am not calling anyone. as i elect to travel solo on the majority of my jaunts west, i feel pretty alone at the moment. but i don't think i'd even change that if i could. shopping is always harder in groups and i don't want to compromise. my stress rash is still bothering me even though i am not really stressed anymore.

also, i think i'm actually getting tired of 1901.


i still haven't seen mt baker yet. i'm not counting the view from 40 000ft either. i want to see it from the ground.

i just wanted to tell someone all of that.