Rambles from the Marion Orser Reading Room

This break has been too long & much has happened since my last entry. Not that I mind, & I'm sure my lack of readers don't mind either. Just a thought. It's all thoughts. Also, it's been recently brought to my attention that I often don't make sense. I agree. That is all.

Maybe I've become the person I am, a tofu kind of concoction, because I always wanted to be what people wanted me to be. Maybe I've become the person I am because I find things I like in other people & imitate them myself. Maybe I've been so many people in this life that I just take bits & pieces with me when I change. Who knows.

Lately, I don't much like who I've become. I complain a lot. I'm negative. I find myself frustrated by the people whom I'm supposed to love, who are supposed to make my life better. There's a lot I love about life that I've simply pushed away. Change is a complicated process. A frustrating one as well.

Can you tell I have a tendency to write without reading? Without contemplating the consequences?

I sit here, in a room full of people I don't much like. False. I don't much like the labels they prescribe themselves. Yet I find myself wanting to be their friends. Funny. Have you ever wanted to be someone's friend because you think they're awesome? Then you become they're friend & you find out they're what you dislike about so many people?

Is any of this even making sense?

I'm trying to be more accountable to myself. I'm keeping a journal for one whole year. Written on paper. Sure, many of the entries are mundane & have no value whatsoever, but they offer me a glimpse into what I like & don't like about my life. Give me an idea on where to start. Reading back is interesting.

I'm trying to reach out. I'm trying to get out there & socialize. I'm afraid my unreliability has made everyone dislike me this year. I'm trying. Can I get a fresh start?

I miss the lack of time telling devices in Jamaica. I miss the witty conversation at dinner. I miss the people to whom I feel such a family-like connection to. I miss the little pieces of life advice given to me, whether anyone realized how much they made me think.

There's gotta be something more.

I was mad, but now I'm just amused. Huck & Molly are too. That's right, even my fish find this whole ordeal sad & depressing. They're lovers, not fighters - but they still don't like you.

So back at it then, eh? Here I sit, the first time I've come home on a Monday. I write for me, not for you. Please remember this. It's not for those guessing odds. My life is not to be subject of bets, but if you wish to make it so, all the power to you. Your hatred fuels my awesomeness.

Next week will provide the experience of a lifetime. Hell, even this week will. It's all a matter of perspective, I've realized. I'm going to make this life what I want it to be, whether you agree or not. To be honest, your opinion (whoever you may be) doesn't matter to me.

Life in the form of written words. Each & every day for one whole year. Memories thrown in for good measure (& esthetics).

You're behind me. Stop trying to catch up.