Gone fishing. Or fishin’. I’m never sure. The point is, I’m going. Not fishing. I don’t fish. I’m down with lazily floating on a lake in the sunshine, assuming the sun ever arrives for more than a fifteen-minute window on the West Coast this year, but catching and killing something is far outside my comfort …
(Priorities (part one)) My least favourite part of writing is when I sit down to the sleeping computer and I can see my reflection in it. The more depressed I get, the harder it gets to look at myself. I told my counsellor today that I had an image of reaching into the computer and …
I’m not a good person when I’m seriously depressed. I’m not good with myself and I’m not good with other people. Perhaps it’s because you can’t give what you don’t have? If you can’t give yourself love, respect, and acceptance; if you can’t give yourself empathy, caring, and understanding, you won’t be giving it to …
I went camping last weekend. It was lovely. “Lovely” because what’s better than sitting around a campfire with your friends? And when said campfire is perched beside a rushing river that snakes among a forest of eighty-foot-tall evergreens with butterflies fluttering in the nearby grasses and eagles circling overhead? Heaven. Plus, I make a mean …
i would tell you i love you more than my life, that your existence is more vital than anything in the world, that your smile helps me up every day; i would tell you that since the first moment, when the pain and blood had passed and they put you in my arms, my heart …
