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About

This is what it could look like when one completely deconstructs a life as one knows it, and how to build from the ground up. Alternatively, this is a fresh look at an old story. The fine art of falling apart.

accountability

I don't know if I like this place. I always forget my password, and logging in seems to be such a hassle. Of course, I could be saying that because I'm outside, typing in the cold while I smoke. Cigarettes.

Sometimes I do like to commune with nature.

OK, I give up. Too damn cold out there. This *is* Northern Ontario, my dear.

I'm also going to admit that I've been living in fantasy land for the past two days. One day without internet, because for some reason, it's completely normal that phone lines go out around here. Again, accountability. It's fixed now. Strange how indifferent I was to the whole thing. Happy in my little fake fantasy life. Comfy, there. I've been, many times before.

I have to leave, though. I get to comfortable there, I like it too much and when I'm kicked out, that's when I get cranky. No fun being forced back into reality, I might as well do it myself. Amazing how a few little, tiny words unravel me for a little while. Pleasant, but not real, I don't think. I do not really know what is real, and what's not. Just sorta guessing.

I want to get struck by lightening!!! but the storm is too far away from where I am.

The leaves are mostly stripped from the trees. Naked in wait for heavy snow. It makes the trees creak, rub against one another for company. Marble, the old terrier is chewing on rawhide, and Buckley, the young terrier is squeaking because he wants what is not his. Ironic, when I compare that to my own life, really. Heh.

News from the South with respect to a job. Getting back to work really appeals to me now. I'm just eager to get back. to . it. Another step in achieving unawareness. Work, sleep, watch movies, walking the dogs. That is what it will be like. No more of the existential bullshit, just fucks with you head. Heh, literally.

I'm thinking Number 27 at the Vietnam restaurant and Springbank park. It occurs to me that I'm the grass-is-always-greener girl.

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