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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.

I will never be with you

I shouldn't listen to James Blunt in the morning. It's almost too sweet, like eating chocolate or sugary breakfast cereals with very little milk. Marshmellow shapes that melt in your mouth or turn your milk into rainbow colours. Too sweet.

self portrait

I guess I am all done with driving to Yellowknife for awhile. The blanket of freezing temps and glittery snow will soon descend upon us and it will be like a quiet numbing feeling that will linger until the first breath of Spring comes back around. It all presents itself like a cycle in my mind. Round, circular, the only thing really different being the year. 2003, 2006, 2008. I am looking forward to the snow. I've got pellets for the stove in my house, blankets to cover my bed, and somehow, a guy to keep the sheets warm for me when I jump in (not necessary but nice to have, nonetheless).

I'm up at a good time, hoping I will leave the house so I am not late for work again. There is heavy frost on the car, Alessandro stood at the kitchen window in front of the sink, waiting for his truck to warm up. Good morning kisses still surprise me, but aren't unpleasant.

I still cling helplessly to things from the past, but it's comforting in an anchoring sort of way. Like a small way to remember how I used to be. That girl. Then I realise in short blasts of clarity that people are ever evolving and that the same is true for myself. A constantly changing orb of colour.

But now it's time to choose the eyeshadow colour of the day. Greens? Blues? Pinks seem to lame. I want something punchy. Looking forward to a new haircut this evening. Nothing really different, just cleaner, more defined bangs. Yeth!

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