i wont miss the last train home, im riding through the ice that froze and packed suitcases to go back to my blue bed, my blue room and how the cieling fan brings more comfort than anything i could find.

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This is the thing (part 34)

             This is the thing, coming here changed me, but nothing about my situation. i want to be a part of Jake and Amir's gang, seeing as they sparked a change in how i look at everything in a mere 34  minutes before my mcomm exam. I bombed that. i was sitting writing it, dreaming of plum tree's and such things, and i kept doodling on my scantron things like 'nigga soda' and the lyrics to 'badd' by the ying yang twins. Then i blinked and an hour had passed, so i used a guess method to fill in the rest of the scantron forming the shape of a christmas tree. thus implying, i either fail, or i either fail and feel like shit. Right now though, im happy that im heading back home, i cant wait to do this. im more excited momentarily to drink a green tea latte (which now i apparently only save for airports and walks down bank street (once)) before boarding the plane. last time they didnt let me board because i didnt have I.D. with me, but then i begged them to let me, and so they did. isnt that wierd? Like i could have had a bomb in my pocket man.

           Its going to be really odd sleeping without erin beside me, and i know to everyone reading this this may sound overwhelmingly lesbian, but i swear to god its not. i dont know how im going to function without tammy and erin's social influence on my living environment. Its come to my understanding that after about 3 months in this godforsaken room in Carleton, i've become a dorm creature. getting out of bed minimally, mostly for just water (unless tammy is coveniently located near the sink with a cup near her), peeing, showering, reaching over the fridge to get my laptop, or opening the curtains a crack to check if its snowing. Eventually, you start blending into your bed, and your walls, and the people you surround yourself with. It become a support system, that functions largley based on everyone being present at all times with no actual common goal. Comatosing on a bed. There are so many conversations that i remember that i dont know if they were dreams, of if i was laying in my sheets right before sleep mumbling things on love and purpose and making a magazine (which will happen).

    Apparently Beirut's going to come to Canada, if this is le true then things are gonna CHAY-AYNGE mofugga. its wierd when things like predictions from almost a year ago start grinding out as something valid. i will fly to fucking mexico to see zach condon sing his heart out and make mine explode. I feel like if i saw zach singing about canals and bunkers and tramways i might be overwhelmed to the extent of heart failure. like, why not man. why the fuck not. So yesterday i was in bed and then i thought my brain gears were churning and that i'd get up and do something useful, but then i got up and watched parody video's on youtube and downloaded Rogue Wave music. this seems to be happening a lot.