life observations, thoughts

no serious turmoil going on.

sometimes i get angry at work, but that’s to be expected. i have friends that i love and piss me off a lot, but that’s life. i live with people that are either aloof, too busy, or overbearing but i deal with it. i am not in a major relationship of any kind, which is probably a good thing.

i think.

i could spend time contemplating how miserable i was this past year, when my financial situation was uncertain and my heart constantly ached for a love that went sour, but would it be worth it? i’ve started plenty of writing sessions focusing on the issues mentioned, but it always felt like i was overly whiny and that i couldn’t get my head on straight and i was just another fool who lived for drama and was too weak to get out of my self-loathing. i’d usually end up feeling embarrassed or foolish with what i was willing to divulge and would end up selecting all and hitting the delete key.

is it a fear of looking bad? probably. but why should i be? i’ve never claimed to be perfect. i’m nothing close to that. i am living a life of consequences and mistakes, of disregard and sloth.

my parents had such high hopes for me (i think my dad still might – my mother is probably just happy that i’m not dead). doctor? lawyer? engineer? all possibilities. but i wanted to do it my own way.

don’t be mistaken; i’m not in a bad place. not at all. i read up on and hear about a lot of people’s lives and there’s this going on and that’s happened and oh my god that’s a lot of shit to deal with, and i’m thankful that some of it isn’t happening to me but feel guilty about not being completely content with my own life.

fuck, i don’t know what i’m blabbing about. i’m just lost, cruising down an unknown street, with no idea where to turn and whenever i stop to ask for directions i never like what i hear.

can you dig it?

maybe i’ll go watch spirited away again.

i drove around needing some fresh air, blasting trance-like visions from boards of canada, tempted to pull into a Wawa or 7-11 to grab some smokes. wind rushed through my open windows, across my face and over my shaved head. i tried not to think about work, but the effort was useless. i glanced to the right and noticed several phone books that looked like it had been run over several times, its ruffled black and yellow pages writhing in the invisible currents that rolled over it. a street sign had been run down, probably one of those yellow and black stripped yield signs, oh you know those signs that are usually on the intersection end of an island. the actual sign was long gone, but its metal neck stood there leaning over crooked and demented like the hunchback of road signs, wanting to be noticed but passed over countless times. detour and alternate signs were everywhere, pointing this way and that, merely suggesting what route to take but effectively directing the flow of traffic nonetheless. people broke the law (including myself), pushing the pedal down harder, slaving their vehicle of choice. work. i needed to get back. but first i’d put air in my back left tire. my tire gauge read less that 20 lbs. fucking every two days – i needed to stop neglecting my loyal beast.

snow two days ago. temptation to wear shorts today.

traumatic moment 8912329483: walking back to my friends room after getting something to eat in his kitchen, and hearing him talking to our other friends about how he hated me.

listening to butterflies instead.

505 emails sitting in my inbox at work. 2942 emails sitting in my inbox at home.