a return

Seven months is a suitable hiatus from blogging I think. When last I wrote, I remember, I was on a train steaming north from London to Sunderland. How time flies. The genesis of this blog lay in the wish to catalogue my European travels, and now that this seems somewhat irrelevant, I hope to continue it in a new capacity. Since its been months since I last put anything up and will not be slapping this link in people's faces on Fbook, the audience for the remainder of this blog should be quite limited, and happily so. I've never been one to share how I feel in an outright manner, I'm much better one-on-one, and thus I think an obscure blog in my own corner of the internet is just right for me.

So what happened in the last third of my Europe trip? Lots. Ask me about it sometime, cause I sure as heck don't feel like writing about it now. Luckily I kept a journal of people and places and things I saw, because in my experience the human brain can be particularly apt at forgetting, even what you swore you would never forget.  

In France I was able to spend time reflecting, weighing on both how I perceive people and how they must perceive me. It dawned on me that I could be so much more than what I frequently allow of myself; that I could laugh more, smile more and love more. I had effectively spent a year in the shadow of heartbreak and loneliness, and it was time to come back from it. That is what I set out to do this summer in Clear Lake, and I am proud to say I don't think I could've had a better time. Is there anything better than good company, cold drinks and hot summer sun? If there is I do not know of it.

Yes I came back to Canada refreshed and rejuvenated, ready to tackle whatever life threw at me, yet I did not have a plan beyond the end of summer. It feels now that I have lost a lot of that momentum. A recently made decision to move to Winnipeg endeavours to change that. We shall see what the future holds.

I have not done much writing in some time, but what I did pen this summer I want to include here. Interesting to see the progression in my writing, even just over the last few years.

in the dark and the cold i slumbered for years and only felt a whisper of passing time. from the moment i woke up in the predawn chill amidst a field of rusty nails and torn cardboard i saw no birds in the sky. i sang the muses seven songs and was sung seven in return. we then took the oath of water and stood beneath the setting sun murmering gutteral prayers. i remember a heaviness in my heart. it was frayed but glowing white hot way down deep. in the bottom of a sandy canyon we found huge bones from long ago and sat in a circle telling stories of old friends. i smiled and wished for the time you lay me down in your yellow house and told me nothing would ever change. i was slayed and stayed by your word and could only watch as you got up to leave. we found large dead forests and black sand beaches with stones that were covered in drawings i did not understand. never was there the sound of life, for a dread silence had come over the world and the few that still dwelled within it. but i am still here, and so it seems like you are still here too although i know you are not.