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today is a good day.

decisions have been made about my life, and shockingly enough most of them were actually made by me. so as i sit here at james and na’s work at seven in the morning (don’t let the time fool you, i’ve been here since four, and up since yesterday), i have nothing but good to look forward to.

last night (that’s technically earlier this morning) james and i decided to wander along carling at a little after ten to see if we could find anywhere that would still be open to feed us. we found a little vietnamese restaurant with a sign that said “sorry, we’re closed” and a smiling asian woman in the window, waving and gesturing for us to come in. we got inside and i asked if they were closed. “oh, yes, iss ok, we cook foh you, you want.” the fortune cookie i got at the end of one of the best meals i’ve had in a long time said, ” you are next in line for promotion at your firm” … that is happy bullshit, cause i am rapidly approaching quitting day, a day on which i will tell my bosses, “i like you as people enough not to open fire on you in broad daylight in a crowd of innocent, bystanding puppies and small children; but as co-workers i would probably afford you no such courtesy.” not to mention people who have “firms” don’t generally get kissed by their fat, toothless and possibly senile customers.

also: japan, with a week-long layover in mauii; there will be condo goodness; and bovernment is now a word meaning “you have been up for thirty-some hours and you are now officially mentally incompetant in the eyes of the law”

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i have made an informed and democratic desision to get off these pills. although i’m not looking forward to the incessant crying (which was the first thing to go when the meds kicked in) i thinks it’s still better than what’s going on with my brain and body right now.

believe it or not this is a hard decision, because it’s against my doctor’s wishes (but not, however, my family’s), and all i really want is to get better.

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i feel like there’s something living, breathing, scrambling inside my chest, suffocated and terrified and desperate, and beyond any hope of escape.

now i know what you’re all thinking: what an awful clich�, jesus, if i’m gonna be melodramatic i could at least make an effort to incorporate some sort of originality. but let me tell you, guys, i’m a little past shooting for original, right now i’m just going for any kind of accurate description.

this thing inside me is everything. it is my panic, my depression, my passion, my will to achieve. it’s my inability to do so, to even express myself in any kind of adequate or satisfactory manner, or draw up any remotely useful amount of will-power. it’s my fear of death, and life, and loss. it is huge, and hugely overpowering.

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nothing like a night with an old friend to throw your perspectives all out of whack. forty minutes of staring at this screen, and that’s all i’m capable of saying.

another ten and i manage to come up with this: i miss montreal, jamie, jer, niko… i feel like there’s a lot missing from my life right now.