i quit the program last week. i hit the two week mark and i said, hey! fuck this! so i quit. i haven't really given much thought to anything else but how weary i am and just how much reading i have to do. i've thought a lot more about writing, so i suppose that is what i am doing now. i've thought about novellas, plays, novels, short stories, poetry; you name it, i've thought of it. i keep thinking of this them vs. me situation. i am infuriated with people who are so contradictory. i too am such a walking contradiction but people who are righteous piss me off SO much. if you want to say that history is just facts and dates and who-knows-if-they-are-actually-right kind of deal then maybe you should take a history course to substantiate your argument. i do believe social history focuses on the people who were not given a chance to speak or tell their stories when they were around but now we try to piece together what we can. i do believe that sitting there and talking about LANGUAGE without saying much at all is you being a shit. rant rant rant. creating more binaries isn't very postmodern of you. AND YOU. well, i dreamt about you last week and the next day you appeared. i do not know how much of you was there because, as we all know, knowable reality is false. the trio. wint. chu. murr. boy oh boy i know i know! if you are supposed to broaden your mind and not be so ridiculous, i just have to tell you that you are failing.
i applied for my first post-graduation job yesterday. it would be very nice to get it. it would help pay off the debt i have accumulated and maybe finance a comfortable lifestyle in toronto. do i want to work for the government for two years? only as a stepping stone to where i need to be. this is it. what i see my future to be. europe. cafe after cafe, park after park, cobbled street after cobbled street. it is so frivolous and youthful of me to think about living out my days in europe. i think what i want is over there. i cannot know for sure but i have an inkling. i will not uproot my entire existence for an inkling; one must do some research first. i wanted to tell you that i am sorry for being such a prat. i wanted to tell you this but we do not speak anymore. we are silenced because i cut off the only connection i had with you. i never really thought of you until i pulled you from my memory to ease a certain situation. now you are always there. i cannot shove you back behind all these other scattered thoughts. sweetness. oh such sweetness. tender. care. we got along on those summer days. we make time. try and find somebody else. this place is mine.
