But I pulled you, and I called you here.
I haven’t seen anything remotely different from this island since 2005 and 2006, when I visited my dad in Rhode Island, we ventured through New England together, as well as our trip to Manhattan in the latter year, which was to this day, the most amazing thing I’ve ever done. I always try my best to remember exactly how I felt when we entered Times Square.
Now I’m working and striving towards leaving this place in the near future for good, where I can see something new and experience something new – leading to a permanent change in my happiness, I’m sure of it.
Winter in bloody Newfoundland, I'm proud of this photo.
I don’t even hate Newfoundland, I simply hate monotony and yearning for things and people that are far from me, and I realize I’ll have to get out on my own, which is perfectly fine, and I’m quite used to the independence that has been sprung on me as of late.
I’m not quite sure, but my disdain for everyday routines could be my downfall. I’m wondering if I spend too much time dreaming and fantasizing about leaving, as opposed to working towards it. But most nights I come home, tired, from you guessed it – working. I also make damn sure that I don’t spend a huge amount of money doing the same “pre drinks/accompanied by a downtown trip” routine every weekend, because yes, I’m trying to save money. I won’t spend a cent on things that are not needed anymore, because I have to keep the future in mind – and the future I’ll be having more fun, for working hard now. I’m not even sure what else I can do anymore, if anything, I’m way too responsible and refrain from having fun, unlike every other person that I know.
I haven’t shopped excessively in a while, I haven’t been really drunk in a while either – which to be honest, I find kind of boring now. I could care less about coming off as a prude right now.
I’ll be damned if I don’t get what I want. I’m getting out.
What else is new? Oh yes, BDD has turned itself into OCD with a still present hint of BDD. I still always carry my hairbrush and continuously primp myself without the ability to stop. I’ve noticed lately however, that I have been counting my things and money and socks and clothes, and making sure I haven’t lost any of it, which seems kind of stupid, but I’ve become obsessed with the idea of losing items that can be replaced easily. You wouldn’t really know how stressful it is until you’ve experienced a constant state of obsessive compulsions.
I’ll write about positives here. I’m still smiling and laughing at everything. Everything is still so fucking hilarious.
