A storybook life, atleast if you're used to reading biographies.
Friday the twenty-second. . .the swallows have returned to Petaluma from the south. They make their nests under the eaves of the buildings here. Every morning as I stand at attention during colours, I can see them flying overhead in the hazy sky. As I look and watch them fly in formation I realize how like my life their movements are. It is all so beautiful, so fluid, so unpredictable.
It surprised me to find that I'll be going to Alaska for quite sometime. It is hardly station vacation, but then again, I've never had it easy in my life. I've just gotten used to the fact that my manner of luck is anything but good. I'm not terrified of going to Alaska. I'm not bitter about my selection at all. In fact I've wanted to go to Alaska for the longest time. However I just don't feel as if this is a good thing for me as of now. This is what I get for wanting to become a hermitt. I'm not saying that I still may not become one, but there's been yet another person keeping me from being by myself. I'm not sure if I should take constant intereference of my aspirations of becoming hermitt as a sign that I should not be alone or if by way there is a cruel joke constantly being played on me for the means of entertainment. I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. I've come to feel that nobody has ever truly cared about me. Sure it would have been shocking if something had happened to me, but I really can't think of one person who would, if they absolutely had to would have taken care of me. That's fine I s'pose I can take care of myself, or atleast try as best as I can. my daily routine seems so redundant and I become tired very quickly nowadays. I really enjoy what I'm doing.
It's only a matter of a month and one week before I'll be in Alaska, cooking underway in some of the most dangerous waters in the world. It's going to make baking a cake quite a challenge. It will probably come out uneven. Although, it will help me make sauces. All I have to do is drop in a whisk and let ship stir the damn sauce. Pancakes will be difficult as well. As soon as I drop the batter, the ship will pitch and the batter will go to the side. I hate pancakes anyway. French Toast and Waffles only. There are a couple of people I miss back home and do wish I could see more often. However, I have a sense of satisfaction in not seeing them and knowing they're still there for me, even though sometimes I get the impression that they aren't. I know they'll never leave me. For the one that may read this entry. . .we've still a kegger on the beach to have yet. This brings me to another point. I don't really give a fuck what anybody is going to think about me for this because for the most part I know high school students read this and they haven't been properly introduced to the "real" world, especially the Coast Guard one. Anyway, to my point. . .It is easy not to drink in the Coast Gaurd. In fact I really don't plan on consuming any alcohol at all for quite a long time if ever again at all. However, smoking on the other hand is really the problem. The peer pressure is unbelieveable, and I get offered cigarettes all the time. How can I resist? They're so expensive, I don't want to buy them myself. It hasn't become a habit and I don't expect it to, but every time somebody offers me a cigarette they talk me into it. I work long days and study quite a bit in fact I never really have any time to myself at all. When I do, I'm never alone. I don't get stressed out but a cigarette is good once in a while.
I'm still my old self here, nothing has changed about me. I feel pretty good about who I am and what I do on a day-to-day basis. I have a bad feeling though that none of the people that used to know are proud of me though. I care, but I know there's nothing I can do. I just hope those people who can't find it in their hearts to accept me for a good person feel ashamed for whatever reason that they deteste me since it is probably petty to begin with. I've burned a lot of bridges I'm sure. That used to be part of plan. I've realized since that it wasn't the best thing to do, but when I also look back on it, I can honestly say that I didn't feel appreciated at the time. In fact, I still feel that a lot of people don't appreciate me. If this is the case then I can't understand why they must look at my journal entries because besides periodically writing an entry, you'll never hear anything about or from me ever again. I'll be isolated in Alaska, alone, just as I had planned. I could eat my own words right now about that plan, but they failed to make me completely miserable. I've always got fond memories of a few good times. For those who gave them to me I thank you.
~Le fantom du chat noir
It surprised me to find that I'll be going to Alaska for quite sometime. It is hardly station vacation, but then again, I've never had it easy in my life. I've just gotten used to the fact that my manner of luck is anything but good. I'm not terrified of going to Alaska. I'm not bitter about my selection at all. In fact I've wanted to go to Alaska for the longest time. However I just don't feel as if this is a good thing for me as of now. This is what I get for wanting to become a hermitt. I'm not saying that I still may not become one, but there's been yet another person keeping me from being by myself. I'm not sure if I should take constant intereference of my aspirations of becoming hermitt as a sign that I should not be alone or if by way there is a cruel joke constantly being played on me for the means of entertainment. I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. I've come to feel that nobody has ever truly cared about me. Sure it would have been shocking if something had happened to me, but I really can't think of one person who would, if they absolutely had to would have taken care of me. That's fine I s'pose I can take care of myself, or atleast try as best as I can. my daily routine seems so redundant and I become tired very quickly nowadays. I really enjoy what I'm doing.
It's only a matter of a month and one week before I'll be in Alaska, cooking underway in some of the most dangerous waters in the world. It's going to make baking a cake quite a challenge. It will probably come out uneven. Although, it will help me make sauces. All I have to do is drop in a whisk and let ship stir the damn sauce. Pancakes will be difficult as well. As soon as I drop the batter, the ship will pitch and the batter will go to the side. I hate pancakes anyway. French Toast and Waffles only. There are a couple of people I miss back home and do wish I could see more often. However, I have a sense of satisfaction in not seeing them and knowing they're still there for me, even though sometimes I get the impression that they aren't. I know they'll never leave me. For the one that may read this entry. . .we've still a kegger on the beach to have yet. This brings me to another point. I don't really give a fuck what anybody is going to think about me for this because for the most part I know high school students read this and they haven't been properly introduced to the "real" world, especially the Coast Guard one. Anyway, to my point. . .It is easy not to drink in the Coast Gaurd. In fact I really don't plan on consuming any alcohol at all for quite a long time if ever again at all. However, smoking on the other hand is really the problem. The peer pressure is unbelieveable, and I get offered cigarettes all the time. How can I resist? They're so expensive, I don't want to buy them myself. It hasn't become a habit and I don't expect it to, but every time somebody offers me a cigarette they talk me into it. I work long days and study quite a bit in fact I never really have any time to myself at all. When I do, I'm never alone. I don't get stressed out but a cigarette is good once in a while.
I'm still my old self here, nothing has changed about me. I feel pretty good about who I am and what I do on a day-to-day basis. I have a bad feeling though that none of the people that used to know are proud of me though. I care, but I know there's nothing I can do. I just hope those people who can't find it in their hearts to accept me for a good person feel ashamed for whatever reason that they deteste me since it is probably petty to begin with. I've burned a lot of bridges I'm sure. That used to be part of plan. I've realized since that it wasn't the best thing to do, but when I also look back on it, I can honestly say that I didn't feel appreciated at the time. In fact, I still feel that a lot of people don't appreciate me. If this is the case then I can't understand why they must look at my journal entries because besides periodically writing an entry, you'll never hear anything about or from me ever again. I'll be isolated in Alaska, alone, just as I had planned. I could eat my own words right now about that plan, but they failed to make me completely miserable. I've always got fond memories of a few good times. For those who gave them to me I thank you.
~Le fantom du chat noir