Just handed in a 13-page short story a day late, and I'm about to smoke a tightly-packed bowl and take a long, hot shower. Sit naked by myself in my bedroom and think about why my fish is dying. I forgot my phone at Jacob's today, but I'm not really bothered. After how many years of being at everybody's fingertips, it might be nice to experience a little disconnect.

It's too cold to go outside, and there aren't enough blankets in the world to remind me what summer felt like. Go on, winter. Do your worst. But I've got three tea bags and a box of matches that say you're nothing but a timid frost.

I've got just under a month to spend, remembering what it feels like to live lavishly, with profound enjoyment. I think I'm up to the challenge.


( Here is something that happened this summer )

We are listening to The Rentals really loud; my ears are being blown off but it's okay. Jacob is downstairs having a drink with Chris Iannou and we're about to go out for dinner somewhere. I handed in my last essay of the term this morning, all I have to do this weekend is write a short story and then I am on vacation for a month. I just wanted to say that I am not unhappy and I think that is important.

Lately all I know is that I need to write more if I want to be a writer. I can't let myself fly by the excuse that "life" is getting in the way, because life is the way, as in my life is based around the fact that I am in love with words and I can't neglect them any more. Sorry, words. For all of my infidelities and stubbornness and fleeting distractions. I promise that I will treat you with the utmost respect and devotion. Starting now.

Anyways, I'm sorry I haven't written in so long. I guess I've been feeling like my life has been insignificant lately. I don't know if it's the December chill or the book of poems by Moez Surani that George Elliot Clarke gave me at the end of my creative writing class, but I feel like I am awake.

I'm not going to say that my life is easy, but I will say that I am satisfied. Come April I will be finished my undergraduate degree. I will spend a year writing and taking pictures and drinking gin and maybe even flying between continents to see what the rest of the world is about. And then I will come back to my always faithful, always energetic, always beautiful home of Toronto to do my masters in Creative Writing. And then all I will do is write.