i used to love alexisonfire.
ok, scratch that. i used to hate them. then i loved them around when 'riot' and 'alexisonfire' came out.
now i ambivalently ignore them. old crows/young cardinals was alright. i get it, you want to grow up. but your fickle fans don't. therefore, i'll savour the remaning songs that aren't tainted with dallas green's insufferable vaginal leakage.

can you tell i'm a bit high strung lately? i haven't written in here in eons, yet i find myself drawn to it to fiddle around, re-read the shite i came up with and just generally zone out, reading about my life on the web. it's kind of odd that i have to read about my life but i'm getting over that feeling and just feeling for lack of better explanation.
i also just got back from california, so really, my mind is still thousands of kilometers away, blissing out to sunny days under palm trees and gratuitous excess. god i love l.a.
i want to live in l.a. it's been one of my thoughts as of recently. there are hours of the day that i just want to put all of my money into a plane ticket and fly away for good. i'm sure i can make it. i don't know what i'd do, but i just feel the need to escape with a degree of permanence. it's a stressful feeling: knowing i have to stay here but having this outrageous desire to just drop it all for no reason and leave.
sure, i'd miss some people, but i'd figure out a way to have a phone. i'm sure i can apply for an american working visa while i'm in america... it'd just have to be kind of rushed. and i might have to put it on my credit card.

the more i think about this crazy idea the more i really, really, really think i could do it.
leave no forwarding address, no way of contacting me. running away this is not, this is just a temporarily permanent evasion tactic.

god i wish i had the balls to do it. if i ever came home i'd be shot dead in the street, i know that for sure. but at this point in time, i don't think i'd ever come home. that sounds bad but it's how i've felt since we got back. it came on suddenly but it hasn't left-- this melancholy feeling of unsuitability. i don't know what's gotten in to me; i'm rarely this irrational.

yet it all kind of makes sense: los angeles is my city. just like when (if) you meet the right person, you'll just know. i know that los angeles is my city.
plus, these thoughts strike so close to my birthday, another melancholy thought. i don't care that i'm turning 22; i could honestly care less. 'i keep getting older, and they stay the same age'. so painfully true.

i'm just tired. i can sleep for days and not feel the sweet release of being sated. something needs to change and i daresay it's my surroundings...

b; old enough to know better; attached.
college student of historical events, future educator. canadienne. i like to read, but i don't do it enough. i run. i like zombies. i'm obsessed with all things batman, except not batfleck. i'm a terrible video game player, but i'm getting better through attrition. i can play piano pretty good, though. the sound of city streets soothes me, but i love the silence of the forest. curious stargazer.

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i used to love alexisonfire.
ok, scratch that. i used to hate them. then i loved them around when 'riot' and 'alexisonfire' came out.
now i ambivalently ignore them. old crows/young cardinals was alright. i get it, you want to grow up. but your fickle fans don't. therefore, i'll savour the remaning songs that aren't tainted with dallas green's insufferable vaginal leakage.

can you tell i'm a bit high strung lately? i haven't written in here in eons, yet i find myself drawn to it to fiddle around, re-read the shite i came up with and just generally zone out, reading about my life on the web. it's kind of odd that i have to read about my life but i'm getting over that feeling and just feeling for lack of better explanation.
i also just got back from california, so really, my mind is still thousands of kilometers away, blissing out to sunny days under palm trees and gratuitous excess. god i love l.a.
i want to live in l.a. it's been one of my thoughts as of recently. there are hours of the day that i just want to put all of my money into a plane ticket and fly away for good. i'm sure i can make it. i don't know what i'd do, but i just feel the need to escape with a degree of permanence. it's a stressful feeling: knowing i have to stay here but having this outrageous desire to just drop it all for no reason and leave.
sure, i'd miss some people, but i'd figure out a way to have a phone. i'm sure i can apply for an american working visa while i'm in america... it'd just have to be kind of rushed. and i might have to put it on my credit card.

the more i think about this crazy idea the more i really, really, really think i could do it.
leave no forwarding address, no way of contacting me. running away this is not, this is just a temporarily permanent evasion tactic.

god i wish i had the balls to do it. if i ever came home i'd be shot dead in the street, i know that for sure. but at this point in time, i don't think i'd ever come home. that sounds bad but it's how i've felt since we got back. it came on suddenly but it hasn't left-- this melancholy feeling of unsuitability. i don't know what's gotten in to me; i'm rarely this irrational.

yet it all kind of makes sense: los angeles is my city. just like when (if) you meet the right person, you'll just know. i know that los angeles is my city.
plus, these thoughts strike so close to my birthday, another melancholy thought. i don't care that i'm turning 22; i could honestly care less. 'i keep getting older, and they stay the same age'. so painfully true.

i'm just tired. i can sleep for days and not feel the sweet release of being sated. something needs to change and i daresay it's my surroundings...