Monday, January 28, 2013

i know what love isn't



wherein i talk about the concept of love and my meager understanding of it, brought on by both a conversation with a friend and the pervading sea of pink and red in stores right now.

so i went out for a lovely dinner with the lovely sofi the other week, and the topic eventually turned to boys and dating and the state of our love lives. (mine can be summed up with three letters: lol) and it was funny, actually, how quickly i was to reaffirm something that i've never hesitated to admit: that even after spending five years putting everything i had into a relationship that eventually dissolved, i still believe in love. i do.

i know, it's cooler to be cynical about it and pretend you're just so above everything, but whatever, dudes -- i'm an old romantic. i've always enjoyed the idea of love, even if i'm not sure i've actually experienced it yet in my life. sure, i can firmly say that i loved my last boyfriend with everything i had, but it wasn't returned to nearly the same capacity (hence the breakup), and so i'm not positive that i've had the full experience yet. to the best of my knowledge, i haven't had a boy fall in love with me yet. not for serious. there's been many infatuations and crushes and lustful pursuits from the opposite sex, sure, but a boy actually in love with me? ehhhh.

but even with that knowledge, coming out of the breakup, i was sort of surprised to realize that i wasn't pessimistic about love. which is kind of funny, because i can remember past breakups where i came out just so angry at the world and bitter at anyone in a happy relationship. i was young and immature, and i just didn't think it was fair. why do they get to have love when i've been denied it? raaaaaaaage!

but, back to the present day. as i said to sofi, i'm not outright looking for *~true love~* or anything; i believe that if it's meant to be, it happens. and that's usually when you're not looking, or when you least expect it. so, that's fine.

i won't lie, though -- to me, the thought of embarking on another relationship right now just feels exhausting. so, i have to meet a guy, be attracted to said guy, have it be mutual, go through the dating phase and first kiss and first bang and all that, meet his friends, meet his family, eventually get comfortable enough to move in together or whatever, and so on and so forth? ugh, really, i just spent five years of my life on that path and getting to that point (more or less successfully), and it ended up not going anywhere after all. so i guess maybe that did leave me a little bitter and cynical, and feeling like it's just too much work to undertake if there's a chance it won't work out anyway. there's so much in there that can go horribly wrong! bah.

it's amusing for me, though, to read back on old diary entries and note how many times i used the l-word. how many times i really, truly believed i was in love with one of them. in retrospect, it clearly wasn't actual love; super strong infatuation, for sure, but never love and clearly never in a way that was reciprocated. but i remember being that girl, and i remember having no touchstones and nothing to compare those feelings to. back then, i had no other word for it. so, i called it love. but now, as per the title of this blog post, i know what love isn't.

yet even after it all becomes just sounds through my headphones, it's the music that i still love them for - that i owe them for - and always will.


[ music | none ]

Friday, January 25, 2013

lost in the plot

okay, okay, fine. here you go: many long nights and much blurry eyesight later, and i've more or less finished reading my old diaries.

was the whole process solipsistic? yep. narcissistic? probably. but as i mentioned before, i somehow felt the drive to do it -- like maybe i was searching for answers buried in my messy past. maybe i was hoping i could find something to anchor myself with.

here's the three things i said out loud the most while reading:

"awwww fuuuuuuck."
"oh god no, don't do that you stupid idiot!"
"i don't remember this at all."

on a whole, it was kind of like re-reading a book when you already know what happens. also, very surreal.

so, if you're actually interested, here you go: strange little snapshots from my life circa 2003-2005, when i was an excitable fangirl, a scenester, a firebrand, and more or less unstoppable. (again, i'm going to put these behind a jump cut because there's a lot of writing here.) you also might want to put this song on as you read, because it's what i listened to on repeat for the majority of the curating process:



Tuesday, January 22, 2013

everybody knows you're trouble



this is not the blog post you're looking for. </jedi>

...i know, i've talked about that mythical "should i publish or shouldn't i" blog post draft before, but i'm still undecided on whether or not i want to publish it. (dear any concerned boys: no, it does not contain any details you would not want released. i am a good girl when i have to be. ha!) see, as i mentioned in this blog post, i've been spending a lot of time re-reading old diaries i wrote 7-8 years ago, and i actually curated a huge post full of excerpts from those entries. and i've been sitting here with my finger on the publish button for the last week or so, but something keeps stopping me from doing it, and i can't figure out what.

don't get me wrong - i think it's pretty fascinating, in a narcissistic sort of way. it gives a really interesting look at how things have changed - or not changed - over the years in my life, and i do wish i could share it here. but, i don't know...lately i've been trying to be more conscientious of what i put out there in the public digital sphere (and coming from me, queen of no-shame, this is a huge thing). generally, that means feeling weird about a tweet, publishing it anyway, then deleting it 15-20 seconds later. so i'm starting to learn to trust my gut instinct when it says not to hit publish.

i mean, yeah, that blog post is monumentally embarrassing to me, because it's writing i did when i was essentially a kid and it shines a huge light on who i used to be (crazy excitable fangirl, scenester, emo drama queen, etc). still, i've never shied away from looking like an idiot in public (if anything, i'm very good at self-derision), and it's not like any of those excerpts reveal anything *~super secret~*, but like i said, something's holding me back. and that concerns me.

maybe it's because i hear a voice in my head that sounds suspiciously like my mother: "why do people even need to know these things?" indeed. (this is disregarding the fact that i've been told i'm both brave and stupid for putting so much of myself out there online as it is, and keeping very little mystery; but me, i write because i have to. i write because it's how i survive. i stay up late, i get up early, and i write.)

look, i've never been ashamed of what i've been through and the experiences that have made me who i am today, but there's something to be said for letting the past lie. and by now, i feel like i'm so far past it that there's really no reason to dredge it all up again. i am who i am in the present, not the years gone by. maybe this is me realizing that i don't need to let my past define me anymore. i'm turning thirty this year. leave the past behind.

i'll share the intro to the blog post, though, because it's alright:

on a whole, it was kind of like re-reading a book when you already know what happens. also, very surreal.

but as i said before: "i kind of feel like i'm failing that girl, sometimes." and i do. because she was a determined little spitfire, hell-bent on making a name for herself and an extraordinary life. if she was hurting, there might be one or two paragraphs about it, before it was on to writing about school and work and other good times in her life. nothing seemed to stop her in her tracks, like some things do for me nowadays. she was always trying to be more, be better, prove them wrong, show that they couldn't get her down.

almost ten years later and i don't always feel that strong anymore.

also, to her, the days of following rock bands and partying with friends and favourite musicians at bars almost every night were never supposed to end. she'd rather die than work a cubicle job. i mean, sure, a lot of this was youthful idiocy and the belief that i could make those responsibility-free days last forever, but we all grow up sometime, even in small ways. i've said it before and i'll say it again: i couldn't stay in my early twenties forever.

because i didn't want to stay innocent and sheltered and inexperienced in life. i wanted to be so much more than that. i wanted to experience everything, and with that comes the risk of getting hurt. and i got hurt (a lot of my writing from 2004-05 especially dealt with that). i still get hurt, even in the times when i should know better. but to me, that's how you mature, and change, and learn to deal. i'm forever willing to make a mistake if it means i'll learn from it.


so.

what's been going on in the meantime?

- hockey has finally returned. i have been doing an inordinate amount of tweeting about it. i spent the season's opening day prancing about downtown wearing my leafs jersey and socks in leafs team colours, getting many hollers from bros in cars and exchanging grins and high fives with dudes carrying hockey sticks. then i watched three games in a row. it was a great day.



the giant tv i bought for the express purpose of watching hockey is finally getting some usage! and it is glorious, my friends.

i also baked these chocolate-chip peanut-butter cookies on saturday because to me, watching hockey means baking delicious things at the same time:



i bake cookies, i watch hockey in cute underwear and thigh-high socks, i have my own apartment with no roommates or weirdos, and i will likely be single forever. because life.

- i continue to be getting better at being by myself, and living alone. i'm starting to realize the benefits; namely, that i don't have to share my space with anyone. i never have to work around someone else's morning routine or worry about whether the bathroom's taken or find someone already occupying the kitchen. take a late-night bath? do it. bake brownies at midnight? sure, why not. there are still times when i get lonely, obviously, but i'm doing fine on a whole. i take this as a small victory for 2013.

- almost to that point, i've been reading alone together: why we expect more from technology and less from each other, which might not be the best move with my current state of mind because then i might abandon the internet altogether. but it's a pretty fascinating read so far, especially given that i am of the generation that's so totally immersed in digital life yet remembers a time when it wasn't like this. it's an interesting perspective to have.

- feel-good anthem of the moment:



- i ordered this. because it spoke to me:



(that is not my cleavage, obviously.)

and that's all for now. be good to each other.

[ music | our lady peace, "naveed" ]

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

enjoy the silence

one thing i've seriously been considering is a digital diet.

not food made of binary numbers, obviously (om nom ones and zeros) -- just going cold turkey on things like twitter and facebook for a couple of weeks. if you know me at all, then you know this sort of thing might actually make me crumple up into the fetal position. i mean, not only do i work in the digital sphere - i'm on the internet from 9 to 5 every day as part of my job, and i'm generally online in the interim as well - but it's a huge, huge part of how i interact with everyone from casual acquaintances to family to longtime friends. my online identity is a solid portion of who i am.

yet lately, it's become slightly embarrassing - and vaguely horrifying - to realize how reliant i am on the digital space to both keep me informed, and keep my acquaintances informed of me. narcissistic, yes, but true, and almost vital in this day and age of social behaviour.

i tried to explain this dilemma to my mother (who has absolutely no interest in computers or the internet outside of the bare minimum she needs for work), and ended up saying something like, "it's a bizarre existential crisis -- like, if i don't exist in on the internet, in my friends' feeds on facebook and twitter, do i even exist at all?"

and that strikes me as something very sad to consider.

i remember that it was a bit easier to disconnect back when i worked at retail jobs and coffee shops. during an eight-hour long shift, there were no nearby computers to check, nor was i really texting all that much at that point in my life. (the boys i was involved with before my relationship of the last five years were also pre-facebook and pre-twitter, so it was basically all myspace and phone calls.) and now, for me, it's almost at a sci-fi neuromancer level of real life intertwining with digital life, and ne'er the twain shall meet. and the thought that i might not have the capability to walk away from it - because of fomo, because of dependency, because of the fear that i'll be forgotten about - is scary.

also important right now: i'm just getting overwhelmed by so many people talking at me, you know? i feel like i'm being crowded, even by well-intentioned friends, and that feeling freaks me right out. i mentioned this to my father the other day, and he just chuckled and said, "caitlin, you've always needed your space." (he then related a story to me about how we'd had a family friend's daughter over when she and i were both kids, "and by the end of the day, you were crawling up the walls to get away from her.")

and that's one of my weird personal conundrums: as i've alluded to before, i have a need for people, but not all people -- just the ones of my choosing. i like my friends to be the ones i make, not the ones who adopt me into their circles. the latter has always made me uncomfortable, because i never quite feel like i belong. i guess i only judge things to be worth it if i have to work for them first. (interestingly enough, this sort of parallels how i feel about guys -- i always, always prefer to go after the guy first. if a guy's into me first, it has a strong chance of scaring me away, because i awkwardly have no idea how to deal with attention that i don't bring upon myself on the outset.)

that might make me a shitty friend. i mean, i do appreciate my friends, and the fact that i even have friends at all is pretty great, but i tend to get oddly prickly and uncomfortable at times. i have a core group of ladyfriends that i've been pals with for years, and i have a few boys i absolutely adore and would spend any amount of time with, but it feels like the rest of humankind i can only take in small doses, and usually on my own terms and own time. again, shitty, but honest.

so that'd be another benefit of a digital diet, for me: just pare it right down. alleviate the pressure. get some silence, which at times feels blessed to me.

...but, i'm already alone enough as it is. without a connection to the digital space, would i be ready to be that alone?

someday, maybe soon, i'll find out.

[ music | placebo, "running up that hill" ]

Monday, January 14, 2013

coming back to you

let me start this one out with two pieces of narcissism (because what else is a personal blog good for, really?) -- first, me in winter:



and second, the confession that i've been spending a whole lot of time re-reading my archived blog posts.

i don't even know how it started, really. i think it might've been a couple trips to kingston ago, when i didn't have wifi access for the evening and was forced to entertain myself by browsing through my hard drive. i have a folder of all my writing - including music journalism, fictional pieces, et cetera - which is mostly occupied by kilobytes upon kilobytes of old entries from blogs past, both public and private ones.

see, i'm a digital kid. i did keep paper diaries when i was a pre-teen, but after i hit adolescence and fell in love with computers (and, conversely, the internet), i found it much easier to type out my thoughts. at the same time, i found it much more rewarding to share said thoughts with the interwebs. and so it began, and it hasn't stopped, really.

quick, convoluted history: i kept a public blog (or rather "online diary" since the term "blog" hadn't even been invented yet) from 2000 until late 2004, at which point things in my personal life started to get crazy, so i locked it down and made it private to only a small readership who had the password. in the meantime, i opened up a public blog on the side, and now there is this distance, and kept writing there. i also had a running word doc of extra blog entries -- the stuff i didn't want to put in my private blog, even if it was locked down.

and i also had a livejournal for a while. and a myspace blog. and stuff i wrote occasionally in facebook notes. and multiple private files of random scribbling. and so on, and so forth.

so, as you can imagine, i have an insane amount of personal writing saved up on my computer (as well as scattered all over the internet, but i don't think any of that stuff is too embarrassing). like, absolute reams of it. right before i decided to shut down my private blog and devote all my time to this distance, i saved every single one of the blog entries to my hard drive, and that's what i've been reading lately.

it's kind of hard going, actually, and i'm trying not to do a lot of skimming -- there's a lot of overly-dramatic and cringeworthy stuff in there, as you could imagine reading over things that you wrote in your early twenties. but i get the distant sense that i'm searching for something right now -- some key in my past that will unlock why i am the way i am today, and then everything will magically make sense. or something like that.

and it's a comfort, too. what's been surprising me the most is how strong i sound, and self-assured. i'm almost thirty years old now, and i seemed way more certain of myself at twenty-two. get hurt by a boy? get angry, swear i'll come out of it better than ever, and that he'll regret everything. i just seemed so...determined to not let that stuff get me down, and to eventually get the charmed life i felt i deserved. it's funny, that you can find inspiration and strength in your younger self. (because that stuff does get me down now, for sure. i kind of feel like i'm failing that girl, sometimes.)

but then there's the angst. oh christ, the angst.

it's not even an understatement to say that i basically catalogued my first heartbreak. (and also the second, almost as bad as the first.) it's just...pages of it. and look, i'd rather not be modest, because i want to say that it actually is some of the best writing i've ever done. it's like a fucking gut punch, the amount of emotion i put into those pieces of writing. it reads like a novel, but it was my life. it's been so long now since so many of those events that reading those details feels like i'm reading about somebody's fictional life. but nope -- it was mine. that was me. and it sort of blows my mind a little bit. (it's also hilarious how much i wrote about being out on the town and who i hung out with and what shows/clubs i went to -- little scenester, me. also timely given a friend's and my discussion about how the scenes have changed, and her just shrugging and saying, "well, our group from that time just...kind of grew up." and it did. we have.)

it's weird and funny, though -- eight years later, the two boys that caused me the most heartache at that time are back in my life. and we are friends, and it's all turned out okay. it just took time and distance. (a whole 7-8 years of it, yes, but still. i've never been a patient girl, so if you'd told me back then that it would take that long, i would've bitten your head off.) and therein is a concrete example of how it can be cyclical if people are meant to come back into your life. if it's meant to be, you won't lose them. they'll be back. so there's a slight comfort for my current life, anyway. let them go, and if they don't come back, then well. wasn't meant to be.

that all ties in with how i just finished reading the paris wife, and then i went back to re-read denise grollmus's devastating account of her marriage and divorce to one of the black keys, and it just reminded me, sadly: it can be the hardest thing to be one of us, a girl who loves artists.

(...and i hope you all remember me fondly, if you ever think of me at all.)

[ music | martin gore, "coming back to you" ]

Monday, January 7, 2013

losing my favourite game

it's baaaaaaaaack.







and yes, guess how excited i am.

(okay, so the top two shots there were from a charity game that i attended the week before christmas, and the third photo is from the toronto marlies game i was at last weekend, but! hockey!)

it was actually kind of cute how many of my friends immediately thought of me when the news broke, and checked in to ask about how stoked i was that the nhl lockout was finally over. i mean, it's all sort of tempered by the fact that it even had to go this far, and it was essentially a big fight about greed and money by bazillionaires, and nobody came out looking good at the end, but...well. i wasn't one of those people who swore that they wouldn't go back to hockey once the lockout ended, because for one, i don't have that much resolve, and for two, i am wholly unapologetic for loving the things i love. i mean, really -- who do i have to answer to? nobody, that's who.

anyway, i don't tend to blog too much about hockey since i'd rather leave that to the professionals, but you can go back through the hockey tag here on the blog and see the other stuff i've written (although none of it is like, analysis or anything). though if you also follow me on twitter, you'll definitely see an uptick (read: absolute flood) of hockey-related tweets in the coming weeks. as i've noted before, when i was reading over my archived tweets, it was very obvious that a good 90% of my tweets were about two things: hockey, and my boyfriend. so i've got one of those things back in my life, at least.

and therein is the slight cloud of sadness in all of this: the realization that i've lost my hockey buddy.

it only sort of hit me when i was at the marlies game on saturday -- that for the first time in five years, i'm not going to have anyone to watch hockey with. hockey was a main bonding point in our relationship (we're both diehard leafs fans), and watching games together while cuddled up on the couch or going out to cheer the leafs on at a pub was a frequent weeknight plan. we went to a bunch of games together. he was a goaltender in a couple beer leagues, so i'd frequently go watch his local games, applauding excitedly whenever he made a big save. hockey highlights were forever playing on our tv. we had innumerable in-jokes and references that nobody else would get. no matter what else happened, we always had the leafs to bond over. hockey was the big thing for us.

and now there's no us.

i mean, i'll be fine, really. it's not the end of the world -- just another one of those sad little realizations that comes in the aftermath of a breakup. i'm trying to be perfectly okay with being alone - though that includes snarling at anyone who pulls out the "you'll find somebody else/we'll find you a nice boy" line; i'm kind of not in the mood for that right now - so it just struck me that wow, okay, i'm going to have to watch hockey by myself now. and maybe i'll be fine with that. but, as with so many things in my life over the last few months, it's just one more thing i'll have to get used to.

then, apropos of nothing, i was hit with a sudden flashback last night out of nowhere: smoking heavily in a crowded bar in pennsylvania, then escaping outside into the cold early-april night, long leather coat and short skirt and too thin and big-eyed, standing on an icy sidewalk and inhaling and exhaling and wondering just what the fuck i was doing. if this was really what i wanted. i was twenty-two.

in the present day, my almost-thirty-year-old self went out on the balcony and lit a cigarette, staring out over my city as i smiled sadly and whispered aloud, "you all just break my heart."

and oh. don't you.



[ music | ida maria, "oh my god" ]

Saturday, January 5, 2013

these crowded streets

anyway, now that the new year reflections are done with -- man oh man, is it ever good to be home again. (home is toronto, as it has been for almost ten years now.) as i said in the last blog post, i'm really starting to dig having the freedom to do what i want whenever i want, which means more ridiculous smirky selfies in hockey fan gear:



...and doing late-night baking of boozy brownies:





(got the recipe from here, by the way, though i substituted the two bottles of guinness for a little more than one bottle of southern tier mokah. these brownies - baked for a friend's birthday - definitely turned out to be the most photogenic i've ever made, as well as some of the most delicious.)

it's funny how the combination of winter hibernation and rediscovering full kitchen/culinary freedom has really made my cooking ambition explode. i'm literally keeping a running list of dishes i want to make over the next month or two, including a very good-sounding beef stew, mole chicken, and multiple steak salads. cooking for myself isn't anything new - i stopped cooking dinners for the now-ex boy and myself after i realized that 1) he rarely returned the favour and 2) he almost never helped pay for the ingredients - but as i said, it's nice to realize that i can cook whatever i want, whenever i want, and have it only be for me (or whatever friends i decide to share with). independence, and stuff.

and now for some holiday-time photos:



graffiti spotted on my way to/from the gym in kingston. in case you can't see the small lettering to the right, it reads, "this is hate. please remove." clever.



giving some christmas-eve love to my stepsister's guide dog. pupper works hard for the head scratches.



the traditional christmas-eve giving of the tree ornaments. this was mine for this year. (past year's ornaments of mine have included toy computers and little cat figurines.)



my mother with her ornament. i thought it was an ostrich; it was a woman in a martini glass. tomato, tomahto.



white christmas in k-town.



boxing day blizzard aftermath. no hot tubbing this trip :(

then, after a two-and-a-half-hour train delay due to the aforementioned massive boxing day blizzard, i finally made it back to toronto on the 27th. it wasn't like previous trips where i felt melancholic about going back to where i belong; instead, i was kind of looking forward to getting back to my life and usual routines. but what i always miss the most, i think, is having a place where there's comfort and company and love. so much of my own space still feels empty to me, but like i said, i'm working on that. trying to be a grownup now, for the most part.



my balcony in toronto, post-snowstorm.

in the meantime, books i read over the holiday:

i'm your man: the life of leonard cohen - because of course i read this; of course it was number one on my christmas list this year. (the only things that saved my life over the last couple months were tarot card readings and leonard cohen poetry.) and man, what a ride. finished this one in about three days, and was left feeling both inspired and completely unproductive in my own life. ah well.

to have and have another: a hemingway cocktail companion - this was my other requested book for christmas this year, as 2012 was the year i discovered ernest hemingway to be the patron saint of hard-drinking, hard-partying writers. a neat little addition to my bar bookshelf, even if it does contain too many gin recipes for my liking (i have yet to develop a taste for juniper).

the paris wife - my father threw this one in along with the cocktail book, and i'm 100% glad he did -- i polished it off in about a day and a half (and by the time i left kingston, my mom was halfway through it). i could obviously sympathize with hadley - it is the hardest thing to be a girl who loves artists - but i identified with pauline, unfortunately. sigh.

the blondes - kobo was having a boxing week sale, so i picked up this one since it sounded sort of familiar to stephen king's cell (but with a few neat twists). also, as a naturally dark-haired girl due to my scottish genes, the sense of readership superiority was nice, hah. i feel like the ending fizzled out - that is, it didn't really have much of one - but i sort of expected that.

and lastly, this tweet sums up things right about now:


...the other night, brad told me that "you're making being single look awesome!" which is kind of the point of my 2013.

a life well lived is the best revenge, after all.

[ music | none ]

Thursday, January 3, 2013

a strange education

2012 was a very long, very strange year.

true enough, i rang in the new year at an out-of-town house party with my best friend and i drunkenly hollering, "fuck you, 2012!" it really did feel like that was a necessary kiss-off to one of the most turbulent years of my life. i'm not sure i've experienced anything like those highs and lows since maybe 2006, or 2007 (which were two of the more infamous years in my memory).

so i woke up on a floor in kitchener after drinking an entire bottle of red wine (and part of a bottle of sparkling, along with so many snacks that my stomach felt like a scorched wasteland the next day), then proceeded to spend the first day of 2013 groaning in pain on my couch as i came down off of one gloriously destructive hangover. still: the night was spent with good friends old and new, setting off firecrackers at midnight and throwing an impromptu turbonegro dance party at 1 a.m., and lo, all was good.

so during my agonizing january 1st, i did some reflecting on the big points of year:

i moved out to live by myself as a single girl for the first time since 2007.

i lost about ten pounds through sheer stress and sadness in the summer, i took up crossfit, i upped my gym days to six a week, i spent hours upon hours walking around this city (and montreal, and chicago) -- logging over 15,000 steps almost every day (the recommended number of steps per day is 10,000, and most people only manage about half that).

i got three tattoos and i chopped most of my hair off for the first time in almost six years.

i managed to keep my job, i did a lot of work travel, and i'm a mere six months away from completely paying off my student debt (thus completing my longtime goal of being debt-free by the time i'm thirty).

i had some people enter my life, and i had some people leave it, and i still have a few on the periphery for me to either let in or let go. we'll see how all these things play out.

i learned - and also re-learned - quite a few important lessons about myself, others, and life in general. (i know that's vague, but that's all you're getting.)

this year, i want to take better care of myself -- be happier and healthier, basically. i have the tendency to take things to extremes; i'll not eat enough, i'll exercise too much, i'll spend my moodier moments depressed and smoking because it feels like what i'm supposed to do. and that's not a very good pattern to be in. i think i really need to be more conscious about what i do to myself, and also give myself more breaks. i need to take it easier on myself. (i also made one formal new year's resolution that i promptly broke within the first 12 hours. oh, well.)

one positive thing about 2013 so far, though, is that i'm finally getting to be okay with being alone. this is a pretty big thing for me; i hadn't expected that solitary life would be so difficult, but yeah, it really was. but over the last couple weeks, i've found that i'm enjoying having my own space, taking care of it and spending time in it by myself. i really like doing things on my own time, whenever i want. that's not to say i've become a hermit, or that i never want company -- it's just nice to realize that i don't feel bereft without it.

still, i'm forever a victim of the hedgehog's dilemma -- i want people close to me and vice versa, but look, sometimes i just get so tired of people. (most people, anyway.) even the people i consider my friends. i just want silence and solitude, even when it just makes me feel more depressed. i'm sort of out of cathartic outlets, aside from writing, smoking, and drinking (and only one of those is at least remotely healthy for me).

and i spend too much time wondering if i did the right thing. if i'm still doing the right thing.

2012 may not have been the apocalypse, but for me, it was the end of the world in many small ways. but i survived. i'm still surviving. it's just taking a while, that's all.

here's to 2013.

[ music | leonard cohen, "famous blue raincoat" ]