Self On Hold

Earlier on this year, I’ve been talking about how oblivious I am about my future and how freaked out I am of graduating because I have no idea what my post-studies-self will be like.
Now, I realized I completely underestimated my freak-out-ism and my lack of future planning. I’ve never been as confused about my future as I am now. Forget PMSing, that’s already over. Now I’m just utterly depressed. On the one hand, I can’t stop thinking about my parents and my dog and my comfy life back in Montreal. On the other, I know that the minute I set foot there, I will wanna go back. And I know I’ve said this before but just now I begin to actually grasp the enormity of it. 
Today, I came back from work at 5 or 6, I don’t remember really… I walked into my shitfilled apartment which ran out of toilet paper two weeks ago but never runs out of garbage. I collapsed on the bed telling myself I won’t fall asleep, but eventually I did, as I always do. I woke up at 7 or 8, I still don’t remember, feeling like a washed out pair of jeans, if you can imagine what that feels like. I don’t even know what time it is now. I could look at my watch but what’s the use? In any case, today will end, tomorrow will end and the day after will end on my ass like a ton of bricks. Then the week after will also come to an end, and then it’s goodbye Israel.
I was thinking about all that, then I thought of my Booxa boy, then of my parents and then of my friends, and then of my family here and the Post, the nice PR people I spoke to, the kickass bands I interviewed and even the few over-opinionated assholes I came across, and I felt my brain splitting in half. I love this place, but despite myself, I’ve grown accustomed to the Canadian reality I’ve lived in for 14 longass years.
This is basically what happens when I don’t have my guitar with me (I had to give my cousin’s guitar back to her because she asked for it last week). I have shitall to do and I think too much. I put on some music to chill me out and it helped a little. L7 is particularly helpful in those situations:
"I haven’t changed my clothes in a week/ I’m wallowing in my own stink/ My ass is sore from lying in bed/ Am I alive or am I dead?"
Nirvana is too. They’re always helpful. In any situation. Whether I’m mad, sad or glad.
Today I had some kickass food. I think I finally got the hang of these noodles. I have to trim my nails but this also doesn’t really matter because no guitar, no point.
It’s great that I learned some new songs and stuff but no guitar, no point.
It’ll also be great if I get some much-needed indo, but yet again, no guitar, no point.
I think it’ll be cool to start an online fringe mag called Weekly PMS or The Daily Rant or something where me and my fellow readers can just bitch about anything that comes to mind. Make up their own Shitlist. You hate Hitler? We all do. Let’s hear your bitching about him. You hate one or all of your ex’s? Let’s hear it. You wanna add a feminist touch to it? For shizzy! That’s gonna rock. 
I’ll do that once I get my guitar and my inspiration back…
Two days left at the Post and I have one major article to work on. I may get some more work tomorrow. If I don’t, it still doesn’t matter because no guitar no point… no, just kidding. It won’t matter because the deadlines are pretty much passed, so I doubt I’ll get anything new.
Writing is great. I already feel better. Now, there’s not much left to do. Go check out the photos I have. Israel Stuff is particularly interesting.
Peace, love and the serenity and comfort in being alone. 

2 thoughts on “Self On Hold

  1. Interesting piece. I am completely exhausted, talking to a chicksa i met in cuba about dating only jews, very interesting conversation. Time for you to get back here man! We need to go hunting together (guys, girls, both, who cares?).See you soon!Johnnie

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