No matter how many times I've been killed, I've never died. At the moment of my death I've become conscious to an alternate reality in which I've survived. If our memories don't correlate, it's only because I'm just another me out of place from where I once belonged.
Waking up to a pink sky in the morning with the sunrise at 5 AM, breathing all the fresh country air, beautiful trees lots of green space and lush farmland. I’m enjoying it better than city life and I feel more spacious out here in the country. Sure the city has some beautiful landmarks and there are great places to see but I’d feel like a mouse trapped in a shiny high-rise condo. Well to each their own, different strokes for different folks.
I’m imploding. People around me see it. I’m losing my cool. Too much shit has happened over 2yrs and the most intense has happened recently. I need time away from work and this city. I need me time. There’s so much that I have to work on and I’m too busy with everything else that I can’t work on me. I’m coming apart.....if I can’t leave this city or take time off work then I will settle for a gooooood mushroom trip a couple times this summer. That should help me some
I admit that I'm one of those folks that licks their bowl or plate clean like a cat after eating - just not when I'm out in public.
goes my elaborate fantasy. Revisiting town I thought for sure I would run into my particular person, share a passionate kiss and ride away together into the sunset. Turns out Vancouver is a bigger town than I remember.
No kidding, 4 days of vomiting, no eating, chugging water, horrible shame and depression.
Took my leftover bottles to the street guys on the corner.
Enjoy guys cuz I am done with booze.
that I am a man, and that sometimes I lie on my bed and listen to Bach, and I weep! I weep at the beauty! Would you laugh at me?
I put on sticky whitish sunblock everyday because it looks better than looking like an old creased leather shoe.
I don't have the time or motivation to go to Wreck this year.
Me and my wife are educated professionals that can support ourselves. She was brought up in an upper middle class home by highly educated and wealthy parents while I grew up poor(homeless father, neighbourhood stabbings and no dentist poor).
Normally it’s manageable but recently the disparity is becoming more apparent(and vexing). We want to install 2000ish square feet of hard wood flooring and she is furious that installers won’t guarantee a finish date or that they won’t give a discount if the job takes longer than expected. When I tell her we will most likely have to pay extra or hand the workers a few hundreds to make sure the job is finished on time, she can’t accept it. She can’t accept that in a wealthy city reliable trades people are more in demand than masters educated professionals.
I am getting tired of trying to get this Reno done. All I keep thinking is letting her continue to piss off installers and carpenters, so when we miss our deadlines she will hopefully wake up and realize it’s not how educated you are but rather what you can DO.