blasting is a way of life.

It’s about 2:25 in the morning, and i am starting to pass out. but i don’t want to go to sleep.
i’m incredibly concerned, as of late, with the concept of life in the place i call home going on without me. it keeps me up at night.

and i guess that in some ridiculous part of my brain, the most logical thing to do is clearly to stay awake and feel sick about it. obsessing over the fact that the lives of everyone i care about aren’t going to stop simply because i’m not there. who the fuck do i think i am, anyway?

clearly, i had no preconceived notions about this whole deal being easy on me. i knew it was going to be hard, and in a lot of ways i embraced that. i embraced the challenge of it, and how taxing it was going to be on my system.
i reasoned that, in the end, it was going to make me a better person. a stronger and more responsible person. more of a man.
but i don’t know…
i’d like to think that after a month i’d be able to at least be at peace with myself and my choices enough to get to sleep. but that’s not the case.

today i was walking to the corner store to buy some smokes. as i left the establishment, i walked by a tim horton’s. i stared at it for a second. i had to laugh.

"here’s the place where i wasted SO many of my nights back home," i thought to myself. "the place that i’ve been consciously avoiding for the last 6 months just because i’m sick at the sight of it."

but all tim horton’s look the same. so i went inside and i got a glass of water, and i sat down. it was really easy for me to pretend that i was just wasting another night in kanata. that any second my friends would come piling through the door, and we’d play cards. bloody our knuckles with quarters. smoke half a pack and watch 3 hours of our lives disappear.

the most horribly mundane shit is exactly what i crave right now.

every kid who leaves home for the first time is probably thinking and feeling everything that i am. i don’t consider myself to be unique or special at all in that regard. yeah, i’m a bit homesick. so what.

but i’d like to think, out of empathy for everyone else in my boat, that i’m one of the only ones who is just going completely mental right now. 

even when i’m back home i’m thinking about how much i hate that i’ve got to leave again. when i’m home, everything carries on as if i’d never left, and i don’t want to go.

but i found some words that take some of the weight off of my brain:

Leaning back, I sensed the sun setting behind my head. “Ehh . . .” I thought. “I guess there’s a kind of comfort in uncertainty. All I can do in the end is embrace it.” I smiled.

-Rivers Cuomo

later.
jav