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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.

fiction/notfiction

I was buried underneath a bunch of snow. Luckily, I was able to dig myself out with a teaspoon. I made a little fire with twigs and made leaf tea, which I drank under the bough of a spruce tree. Buckley was able to escape the experience as he had previously booked a trip to Cuba to check out the lifetime of Che. He sent a postcard. In it, he's wearing a comrade cap and saluting, with a cigar in is mouth. Now, I don't know when he will be back. Looks like he's having fun.

Today, I borrowed my mother's car (oh, it feels a lot like being 17) and went for a drive. The nearest McDonald's is 50 kilometres away. I'm not a huge fan of the fast food chain, but in my way of thinking, that's how one measures how populated a town is.

Unfortunately, the town is not very populated regardless of the presence of the deep fryer heaven. An hour is all it took to peruse the 4 stores that may have had what I wanted (they didn't) and I grabbed a large coffee for the awesome trip home.

I have new headphones (impulse buy as Buckley had chewed through the cord of my other ones) and some soap. One can never have enough soap.

I got back in time for tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. This really is the life.

p.s My iPod played Purple Rain and I thought of you. I wish I had your picture to hang on my wall, because despite all the nasty emails I sent you (1) I still think of you. I guess you win.

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