Famous Last Words
Chances are, you were expecting my next post to be about day one of the Capitol Hill Block Party. So was I. But as I spent this morning sat in front of my computer, I began thinking about the events of the past few days and the past few months and the past year. I feel like I'm changing or getting better or something, because, well, look at me. I'm doing things that the me of three or five or even seven years ago wouldn't have done.
Take last weekend, for example. I took the bus down to Seattle to see a bunch of bands, most notably Sonic Youth. In fact, I spent the entire weekend down there. Three years ago, I wanted to go see Sonic Youth, but waffled on it and stayed home on my birthday weekend instead. Seven years ago, I was too sick and tired to venture out of the house to see Sonic Youth. And now, I'm venturing across the border to see them. Hell, I saw more bands last weekend than I've seen in the past few years. For the first time in ages, I feel as though I'm actually living.
How can I be so sure about my life changing? Simple: Nothing ever changes around these parts. I work a job that I hate. I live with my dad in East Vancouver. I'm chronically ill, he's old. We're both tired. These are all familiar topics, well-covered in my livejournal. So I think I'd notice if something changed, even just a little.
Hell, who am I kidding? A lot has changed over the past year. We moved from our longtime apartment. I lost half a tooth. Dad turned 65. I went on vacation for the first time in years. When set against the stasis of daily life, these things are noticeable. Also noticeable is the fact that I don't write here as much as I used to. I don't have the time, energy, or need to. While I'm always reading your entries and lurking in favourite communities, I rarely have the urge to post. And then I go through guilty periods and post nonstop. But it's not as frequent as it used to be, back when this was my lifeline. Then again, few people do.
This isn't goodbye, though. I know that these breaks never last long for me. When I have the time, energy, and need to post, I will. But until then, I'll see you in your comments sections.
Take last weekend, for example. I took the bus down to Seattle to see a bunch of bands, most notably Sonic Youth. In fact, I spent the entire weekend down there. Three years ago, I wanted to go see Sonic Youth, but waffled on it and stayed home on my birthday weekend instead. Seven years ago, I was too sick and tired to venture out of the house to see Sonic Youth. And now, I'm venturing across the border to see them. Hell, I saw more bands last weekend than I've seen in the past few years. For the first time in ages, I feel as though I'm actually living.
How can I be so sure about my life changing? Simple: Nothing ever changes around these parts. I work a job that I hate. I live with my dad in East Vancouver. I'm chronically ill, he's old. We're both tired. These are all familiar topics, well-covered in my livejournal. So I think I'd notice if something changed, even just a little.
Hell, who am I kidding? A lot has changed over the past year. We moved from our longtime apartment. I lost half a tooth. Dad turned 65. I went on vacation for the first time in years. When set against the stasis of daily life, these things are noticeable. Also noticeable is the fact that I don't write here as much as I used to. I don't have the time, energy, or need to. While I'm always reading your entries and lurking in favourite communities, I rarely have the urge to post. And then I go through guilty periods and post nonstop. But it's not as frequent as it used to be, back when this was my lifeline. Then again, few people do.
This isn't goodbye, though. I know that these breaks never last long for me. When I have the time, energy, and need to post, I will. But until then, I'll see you in your comments sections.