Oh shit, I'm making a journal again. This might be bad.

Hey all,

I have no clue why I just made this, but I recently saw my sister's yoga blog posted on facebook a couple days ago, and some part of me said, hey, remember when you used to write journals? Of course I remember why I stopped, but I feel compelled to write stuff anyway.

I think I am just out of sorts. I've had a long day. It's just past 2:30 a.m. I am not very coherent at the moment, but I find myself caught in one of those middle of the night feelings...you know the ones. A blend of hope, fear, excitement, cynicism...all those strange mixed feelings that don't make sense to happen at the same time except for the fact of what time it is and how little control I have of my brain when I'm tired. Brought on by nostalgia of the past and eagerness to see what the future holds. 'Nostalgic about the future'...I totally should have named my blog that instead. Whatever. I've been after something different than usual, I think. Doing something different definitely creates a thrill...but I've been wondering if the thrill of uncertainty is really a thrill or just a gimmick my brain made up to get me to do something with my life for once. Then once I'm there, I'm screwed.

I am starting this thing, I think, because I'm at this weird point. And I don't just mean lack of sleep. I used to write when I was lonely, confused, or frustrated. The fact that I have the urge to write again only leads me to believe that either something big, or something scary is happening. I suppose it's both. I have decided to pack up a few of my things and head over to Vancouver to pursue dreams of a sort. What exactly, I don't know yet, but I suppose I'll find out when I get there. The past few months have brought about a variety of things in my head that led to this decision.

I'm crazy. I don't know why I have to love everything at once. I can't want two opposites at the same time, yet I do. I spend a fair amount of time trying to make one side or the other go away, but it usually just ends up nowhere. I'm trying to make a change away from the scared, quiet, passive recluse I used to be when I lived at home, but for some reason I have never felt more like I did back then than now. It sucks. A lot.

I find I'm wanting to hide myself from the world again. Perhaps not *wanting* to, but doing it out of necessity. I would say what I mean, if I really knew what I meant myself. I don't like feeling like I have secrets. I have never been like that. It just seems weird to start now.

I went and dropped some stuff off at my new place in Burnaby today. When I came back, I was tired, and wanted to nap but wasn't looking forward to being bored out of my skull for an hour and 40 minutes on the ferry. With all but $5 left to get home with, I got some dessert, and then sat down with some chamomile tea, and watched the sun slowly set. For some reason the warmth brought on the nostalgia portion of the day, and I imagined myself talking to an old friend.

For pretty much the rest of the ferry ride, I daydreamed myself through an imaginary conversation. Things I might say, five years later, because I never had a chance to before. I hate when people whisk in and out of your life like that, and you never get the chance to know them like you wanted to. Or when you wait for the right time to say something, and then time passes, and without even knowing it, you lose your chance. And even still, I find myself doing the very same things to people now. It's dumb, I know, but I guess there's a part of me that thinks the universe can do what it wants to do without having me as a catalyst in between things. But perhaps that's what it wants me to think. I don't know. I used to write songs about this crap all the time.

I watched No Place Like Home again today. Man, I love that video so much. The intro and outro songs always get me though. 'Twas another thing that made me feel all nostalgic and/or emotional today. I don't know why, it just always does. But man, do I love that opening song. Kinda reminded me of the situation at hand, in that wandering off into the sunset kind of way.

Yellow Brick Road
Lyrics by Jake Quilty-Dunn, Patrick Ryan, and Ryan Murphy

Early rise in the morning
And my breath is keeping me warm
Full moon fading to the east
And there's no escape from home
The rising dawn is your front door
When you call the world your home
And I'm walking down the yellow brick road.

I hate it when you say you love me
'Cause I don't know what you mean
And no one bothers asking
Why this darkness is in me
I don't need any friends now
'Cause they'll only do me harm
And now I'm talking to the yellow brick road.

Packing up my belongings
In my pockets and on my skin
I'll be leaving here tomorrow
Four sheets to the wind
I whisper as the wind blows
That there's no such things as home
And I'm leaving on a yellow brick road
Yeah, I'm leaving on a yellow brick road.

I had more to say, but my mind is shutting down now. I'll probably look at this tomorrow, and go wtf. But whatever.

Here's to a new adventure.