There's a First Time for E'erthing

This is the first time in a long time I've taken a joint to bed. Last time was the best time. I had company and it was fine. I had patience and it was fine. I had peace of mind. It was fine.

...

I cannot help but express the deepest gratitude for the people who stay truest to you. It is strange, but this sentiment can only be found in the people that are closest to you, yet the least intimate at the same time. I mean, yeah, I did almost sleep with me best friend, but that was something that helped the pair of us. I was actually able to appreciate something in all of that. It created this mutual, long-lasting, and profound admiration for one another.

And now as I realize that this wasn't such a good idea to have plastered over the internet. I still find comfort in my anonymity. What the fuck do I care though.

P&L.

Directions

Since the end of summer many paths toward the unknown were started. I didn't stray very far from my point of origin for fear that I'd be lost in the world without a tether, but now I can proudly say that I have sought and found direction. I have a goal in mind. I have a plan in motion. I have set out on my path of absolution.

The next few years will be undoubtedly challenging. I will be returning to academia in the next little while and I feel that I have finally been submerged in what many call the real world. To me, this real world is simply a course along a long path that will never actually conclude. I intend on taking a significant liking to this format of expression and making a career out of it.

Short-term goals and ambitions have been put on hold. Long-term ideas have been set. Temptation will follow me where ever I go, but I will stay on course and look out for myself for a change. Watch me rise.

S.

EG

I had a really good night last night, we're both in the same place.

I does get easier. I promise.

Another Day, Another Dilemma

I've acquired fully-blown restless leg syndrome (RLS). It isn't pretty. Between that and the horrible habit that is smoking, I'm a wreck of nerves. I manage it rather well, but give me 5 minutes of doing nothing, or worse- waiting, and I'm pretty much doing jumping jacks for no reason.

I'm awaiting the new roommate to settle into my old place. The place where memories were had and lives and emotions were forsaken. Many decisions were presented in the dwelling that I occupy, many highs were had and many lows were magnified. All of this, however, was a means to an end. Do I believe in fate? Possibly. Do I know that my destiny is in my own hands? Yes.

The next few ____ will undoubtedly be interesting. I haven't had solace in a while. I haven't been on my own in a while. I look forward to adventuring into the unknown on my own. It will happen shortly. I don't expect much help, nor do I want any, but some company would be appreciated.

P&L

My suitcase is packed with all your heartbeats. So I walk to their sound and head towards the sun

It seem as if I only ever turn to this venue of expression in dark times. In re-reading what I have posted it is easy to notice the changes in my mindset. I began blogging as an attempt to document my overall adjustment as I discover who I really am. Years later, it seems as if I am still in the process of finding that out. Changes are the overall theme of each and every post, and this change was never supposed to happen.

Much of the demise of my latest relationship should be attributed to my own actions, although they are not. Whenever people ask me how or why we split, it always comes back to a mutual discontent with who we each became and how we both dealt with our lack of happiness. Personally, love is an intense emotion that cannot be denied and for the last few months I have reallocated that emotion, but have never denied it. This isn't necessarily bad, but obviously not ideal when you have entered a commitment as real as the one I was in.

Bottom line, I am here to move forward. Once all is said and done, and all loose ends have been tied up, I will without a doubt focus my efforts into erasing whatever changes (and compromises) I have made in my self. While I did not mind the alterations I made to my own fibre, it is still obvious to most that I wasn't me. I was a shell of me but didn't really know it. I simply attributed the changes to being a part of growing up. In hindsight, this was not the case. While both aspects of the my evolution complimented one another, I am still back at square one: discovering who I am.

Returning to my previous posts, I see exactly what I need to do. I need to travel. I need to experience. I need to live. I have always maintained a desire to be elsewhere. While I am grateful to have experienced what I have with this last relationship, I know that it has only added fuel to my fire. It has simply made me want to scratch the travel itch that much more. I now know that it is in my capacity to embark on this journey alone. Previously, I have desired a companion in most of my journeys, specifically that of the female variety. While I would embrace the possibility of going off on adventures with a female friend, there aren't many that can cut it.

I cannot help but call my recent actions into question. Why did I decide to neglect certain responsibilities? Was it because I was done but didn't know it? Was it because I was mirroring what was most common in my relationship? Was it because that is all I know? I really hope to answer this question soon. Otherwise I will always be on the go.

The coming years are something many are looking forward to. On a personal level, this is when I embark on a journey into the unknown. As long as I have my iPod and my laptop, I should be more than fine. I am in the process of figuring out where I will go and what I will do, but I can guarantee that it will certainly not involve the person who has neglected the efforts I have put forward over the last two years. She has asked me not to hate her forever. I will not. The truth is, the emotion I feel towards her surpasses hate. I loath her for her actions and selfishness. It probably didn't need to get to that point, but neither of us helped that situation out.

Many people have provided this generic line of advice: Time heals all wounds.

I say fuck that. These wounds will heal on there own and the scars they leave will be reminders of what I will never do again. There is no doubt this entire ordeal will shape my future interactions with many people, but it is how I deal with this that defines who I am (at this point anyway). While I may have some regrets within the relationship, I have yet to regret the way I've handled the end of it all. I find that whenever something comes to its demise, I am well-equipped with the emotional prowess needed to move forward.

-dig a hole in the middle of the street, dig it down, dig it down six feet deep. you should know what's really going down below...

Montreal: January 12th, 2010

I wake up before my alarm. Its not even 6am. Thankfully the Gravol and Heineken put me to sleep for a few hours. My nerves continue to get the best of me as I stroll into work at 7:30, coffee in hand. I'm sure people are sick of hearing about me going to Peru but by 4 o'clock everyone is wishing me the best and saying goodbye. As expected, I hit rush hour traffic. It'll keep me in line so I don't mind. The last thing i want is to be screwed out of this awesome trip.

I cross the border around 6. Its pretty routine. Where are you from? Where are you going? Have you ever been arrested? As soon as I get the go ahead my anxiety fades and I drive off into the American darkness. Within 30 seconds I see a shooting star. A glimpse of things to come? Yes.

The long drive ahead is nothing unfamiliar. I've done it before but rarely has it been alone. I try to keep my thoughts focused on where I'll be this time tomorrow: Miami. Halfway to Peru. I decide to take a break in Plattsburgh mainly out of nostalgia. As a kid, I would spend weeks at a time at my grandparent's place in upstate New York. I pull into a Big K-Mart parking lot and stretch my legs and take a bathroom break. Its only for five minutes so as not to lose time.

I hit the road again and I'm blanketed in darkness. My GPS rambles directions that I ignore because I'll be on the I-87 for another few hours. My iPod is the only friend I have for now.

Getting closer to my destination, I have to start paying tolls. Being a Montreal native I barely understand how things work. I take the card and drive off trying to figure out where I'll be exiting and how much I'll have to pay. Two lanes become three, and three change back to two. The oncoming headlights become the faces of my fellow travellers and they seem to be staring at me. I squint trough their hi-beam glares and press forward. When my GPS tells me to take the next exit I double check the toll card and try to figure out how much cash I'll need. I slow down to about 30 km/h to double check, thankfully no one was behind me. As a take the off ramp I rely heavily on my multitasking. I turn a corner and come to a halt. A deer slowly walks across the road and doesn't even acknowledge the car. It was really eerie, normally they would be super alert and stare right at you. This deer is different; it is young but not a baby. Its also injured. As it makes it's way to the other side into the forest I honk my horn a couple times hoping that it gets spooked and runs off. As I come to the toll, I do my part and let the man in the booth know in case something happens. He says he already called it in.

Now I'm about 40 minutes away from the Taconic Parkway, which at this hour is likely a desolate stretch of road. My last leg. To get there I drive along a rural route where it is impossible to keep track of the random symbols of American patriotism. They dot the sides of the road in the form of massive American flags or decorated mailboxes and even an old Chevrolet painted with the star spangled banner. Its about 8:30pm and my Red Bull has worn off. Thankfully it isn't too cold to open up the sun roof. As I do so I realize how clear it is and glance at the sky from time to time.

My last leg of the drive starts at what appears to be someone's driveway. The on ramp to the Taconic is short and secluded but I remember it from my last drive up. This is where the fun begins. The speed limit calls for 55 mph. I oblige it as cops literally hide in the trees waiting for someone to slip up. I've already passed a half dozen state troopers who have pulled people over and a few more staked out waiting. After a few minutes I decide to speed up to 60 mph or 100 km/h. Its perfectly safe and not above the flow of the one other car on the road. The winding road is playing tricks on me. The car ahead disappears at least three times.

The trees along the side of the road seem to engulf and surround me as I veer from one lane to the other anticipating the turns. My music is loud and the sun roof is open and I have a smile on my face yet again. My iPod jumps to the next artist in line which is Fever Ray. She is one half of the Swedish electro band The Knife and I have yet to listen to her album. Each track is more bizarre than the last but her ambiance-like music keeps me mellow and focused. Every once and a while eclectic noises find their way into the song and I think that they're from outside. It startles me a bit but then I realize that it was fitting for my drive.

After 20 or 30 miles I come to a another slow down... more deer. This time its a mother and her fawn. Neither of them are injured so they both perk up. Deer in headlights. There's something about catching a wild animal off guard, especially a deer. They instantly become vulnerable and clumsy yet strangely stay majestic. After analyzing what they've encountered they hurry off into the woods. My heart rate slows back down.

My GPS chirps up again and orders me to take the next exit. This voice actress is really pushy. Next time I'll shell out the cash and get a GPS with a celebrity's voice or something. Nothing like William Shatner telling you to take... the next left... and hit it into... warp speed for 7.6 km.

I drop the car off with minutes to spare. And hurry over to the train station. I miss my ride to Grand Central by six minutes. I guess I shouldn't have stopped off in Plattsburgh. By the time I make it to Manhattan its 12:40, Wednesday morning. I am tired and miserable, and the cab driver knows it. He chats away on his cellphone the entire ride. I'm okay with this since I don't want to do much talking. Once I'm at Kirk's apartment, (not that Kirk...) I have to jimmy the lock. The only problem is I only took cards that are important; driver's license, credit cards and such. I don't want to break them or mess them up and not be able to use them while I'm in Peru. I end up popping the lock with my medicare card and I drop my bags to the floor. I fall onto the couch. I'm not going to sleep. I run down the street to a familiar restaurant and order a slice of pizza and a cheeseburger. With a full stomach I can now focus on sleep. In less than 20 minutes I'm passed out. In less than 20 hours, I'll be in Lima.

Live

Intensity is always a good thing.

Love that is fleeting hurts the least.

A life uncovered is not worth living.

Take the chance, grow up.